Nazi Art Critics Bury
Precious Works Of Art?

By Lin Stone
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

 
They began excavations over in Berlin Germany. There they found a stash of decadent art that the Nazi Art Critics had buried. Personally, I believe it was the janitor that done it, sweeping it out with the trash into a hole in the ground nobody was using because I don't see what the Nazis had to worry about, anybody else in their right mind would have buried it too, sooner or later.

For reasons best known to themselves, a loose confederation of art dealers has rushed into a fit of misdirected public service and put up an exhibition that seems to have been attended only by a few cub reporters although a stream of bewildered spectators have obviously marched by it; they were even captured on camera, screwing up their faces in vain attempts to reason out this unfathomable call to fuss.

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Just because the Big Bad Nazis condemned these works of art somebody has declared these to be valuable. Look at it from the other side of the fountain and you'll see what I mean -- This stuff was so bad it couldn't even fool a Nazi janitor.

But art isn't art just because some starving artist died penniless; nor is it art just because some "expert" has declared it to be good -- or bad. "Expert Opinions come and go, rise and fall with the fickles of fate because just being right twice is the only criteria for being an "authority" in most fields.

The only real test of art comes from hanging it in your kitchen; if it evokes a feeling that helps you roll out better biscuits then yep, it's art. If the cakes come out perfect too then the proof is irrefutable; you have Art with a capital "A" and you will fight to see it doesn't get buried.

So far, your common ordinary man in the street is not impressed with these flights of decadent fancy enough to hang them in the kitchen; they have this gut reaction that overrules "AUTHORITY" opinions reverberating in that narrow enclave of art dealers that is substantiated only by the academic world that is temperamentally consumed with the urge to argue for years over the meaning of an old warped hazelnut, while the common man instinctively knows that just because it's old doesn't mean it's gold.

Running from a need to work on more important matters, I sneak in a few seconds to reconfirm something Wallace Sayre once observed: “in any dispute the intensity of feeling is inversely proportional to the value of the stakes at issue.” When Pharaoh has been suitably embalmed and tucked away, let his toenail clippings be left in their safe hole in the ground to rot in peace.

The mis-quotings of Lin Stone may be requoted if you use the inarguably reliable "copy and paste" system that leaves his byline in place.

Byline.. Lin Stone is best known for his rock-solid grasp of impertinent permutations.

the end

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