Wednesday, 8 December 2010

A thoughtful moment concerning Marcel Duchamp and myself

The FSA is writing to 49,387 people to warn them that their names are on a 'master list' that boiler room fraudsters may have been using to contact them out of the blue and offer worthless shares. Well, the fraudsters most probably have been using it. So the victims will know by now. Why do they need a letter from the FSA telling them what terrible fools they've been? It's rubbing salt in the wound.

O Master, that's not what concerns me. I want to know why they have called it the 'master list'. What's going on, boss?

Obviously, they are trying to put the blame on me. They know I didn't have anything to do with the list. It's outrageous.

Why don't you sue them?

Life's too short. I'm above all this. I will not let them drag me down to their level. I have my mind on higher things.

Yeah. The astral desert. Ghost chatter. The burning money. All that stuff. Mystic shit.

Marcel Duchamp.


It occurred to me this morning, after my tea and toast but before my shave and the washing of my hair, a thoughtful moment, that Marcel Duchamp had been staring at an open goal, just as I am now. It was so obvious. So simple. Back then. Still is. With another art.