http://www.chenwenling.com/
http://sweet-station.com/blog/2011/09/chen-wenling/
http://beautifuldecay.com/2012/01/20/chen-wenling/
Someone shared the What You See Is Real sculpture on Facebook. Of course in that maddening way people have on Facebook, they just share it without explaining what it is or where it came from, but Google was my friend or at least not an enemy.
This sculpture is by a Chinese artist named Chen Wenling. He does these wild, gigantic full color bizarre sculptures.
What You See Is Real was more descriptively called The Amazing Bull Fart sculpture. Bernie Madhoff is being squashed against a wall by a bull that is being propelled by a massive fart. Bernie has his own horns and one of his shoes came off and is laying on the ground beneath them. In China, one of these websites says, farting means bluffing.
I'm dying to know how and of what he makes these things and to have the other sculptures explained. Like what's up with that fish woman? What's going on with the shark biting the hippo that has an alligator in its mouth biting a guy and they're all hanging from ropes and the one with the shark, hippo and alligator laying there with blood pouring from their mouths- is that a sequel?
I'm also astonished that this is all coming from China. His art screams freedom and that's not something I associated with China. I have to majorly adjust my ideas about China.
http://www.chinaartnetworks.com/feature/wen16.shtml
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Obamacare
I think the whole Tea Party movement is summed up nicely by the South Park Episode TMI. I grew up with Midwestern white crackers and I know for a fact that the thing that bothers them most about Obama is he is black. We had neighbors that wouldn't watch shows like Good Times or Moving on Up or Sanford and Sons because they had black people on them. I pitied them. Those were good shows.
I have always had health insurance. I went through a period of unemployment for about three years and I kept myself insured. So I don't see the big deal on the mandate. I have always bought it, why shouldn't you?
My brother didn't have insurance when he crashed his motorcycle in June 2002. Dad and I went to see him and he was unconscious with severe head injuries. An attorney advised Dad that we couldn't be involved in his health car or the hospital would come after us. The hospital wanted only one family member calling them about him, so Dad was designated to be that one. So I would get the news from Dad. There was no change, he had not woke up.
I decided to go to Florida to see my brother on my vacation in October. My attorney said don't talk to anybody and don't sign anything. Dad seemed a little surprised that I was going.
My brother was conscious but unable to speak because he still had one of those things in his throat for the ventilator. He wasn't on a ventilator but they were administering some kind of therapeutic mist for the astounding amounts of snot coming out of his lungs. He had a dent in his forehead from the skull fractures that had caved in after the swelling from his brain had gone down. He couldn't move his legs. He had no clue who I was.
One person who talked to me asked me if I wanted to take him home. I frankly couldn't picture him traveling and said so as I eyed the shit bag hanging at the side of the bed. I guess they can shove a hose up your ass and collect it that way. When I see someone on a motorcycle, all I can think about is that bag of shit.
The shit bag wasn't the worst thing. The worst thing was one day when I came in and there as a huge pile of snot on that thing in his throat. I tried to pull it off with a kleenex but I was afraid I was going to pull it out of his throat because it was like a pile of glue. Waves of nausea washed over me as I pulled on it and it wouldn't give.
I didn't get it off and cut my visit short that day.
Mostly I talked to him and he would nod or shake his head to questions, but he didn't remember who I was. I tried to leave the television on shows I thought he liked.
So I left him there, alone, he was saying something but I'll never know what it was, since he couldn't speak with that thing in his throat.
The hospital kicked him to a nursing home and his heart stopped and the nursing home sent him back to the hospital. This happened one more time and the hospital asked what we wanted to do. We had a family conference call between my Dad, my cousin and me.
A Death Panel, if you please.
Did we want the hospital to keep bringing him back to life every time he coded?
I asked why not take that thing out of his throat and ask him what he wanted. So we all agreed that none of us wanted to live that way and he should be allowed to die.
He died on November 11, 2002 at the age of 41.
So that is why you have insurance. Because nobody is going to give up everything they have and ever will have to save you if you really fuck up bad.
I have always had health insurance. I went through a period of unemployment for about three years and I kept myself insured. So I don't see the big deal on the mandate. I have always bought it, why shouldn't you?
My brother didn't have insurance when he crashed his motorcycle in June 2002. Dad and I went to see him and he was unconscious with severe head injuries. An attorney advised Dad that we couldn't be involved in his health car or the hospital would come after us. The hospital wanted only one family member calling them about him, so Dad was designated to be that one. So I would get the news from Dad. There was no change, he had not woke up.
I decided to go to Florida to see my brother on my vacation in October. My attorney said don't talk to anybody and don't sign anything. Dad seemed a little surprised that I was going.
My brother was conscious but unable to speak because he still had one of those things in his throat for the ventilator. He wasn't on a ventilator but they were administering some kind of therapeutic mist for the astounding amounts of snot coming out of his lungs. He had a dent in his forehead from the skull fractures that had caved in after the swelling from his brain had gone down. He couldn't move his legs. He had no clue who I was.
One person who talked to me asked me if I wanted to take him home. I frankly couldn't picture him traveling and said so as I eyed the shit bag hanging at the side of the bed. I guess they can shove a hose up your ass and collect it that way. When I see someone on a motorcycle, all I can think about is that bag of shit.
The shit bag wasn't the worst thing. The worst thing was one day when I came in and there as a huge pile of snot on that thing in his throat. I tried to pull it off with a kleenex but I was afraid I was going to pull it out of his throat because it was like a pile of glue. Waves of nausea washed over me as I pulled on it and it wouldn't give.
I didn't get it off and cut my visit short that day.
Mostly I talked to him and he would nod or shake his head to questions, but he didn't remember who I was. I tried to leave the television on shows I thought he liked.
So I left him there, alone, he was saying something but I'll never know what it was, since he couldn't speak with that thing in his throat.
The hospital kicked him to a nursing home and his heart stopped and the nursing home sent him back to the hospital. This happened one more time and the hospital asked what we wanted to do. We had a family conference call between my Dad, my cousin and me.
A Death Panel, if you please.
Did we want the hospital to keep bringing him back to life every time he coded?
I asked why not take that thing out of his throat and ask him what he wanted. So we all agreed that none of us wanted to live that way and he should be allowed to die.
He died on November 11, 2002 at the age of 41.
So that is why you have insurance. Because nobody is going to give up everything they have and ever will have to save you if you really fuck up bad.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Resisting Urges
I got a call from someone who dialed a wrong number. What if I had played along? Made plans with her or took an important message for someone else? How much chaos would ensue in her life? It could have been so much fun to confess to a torrid affair with her husband but what if she went home and shot him?
I think it's better to eschew evil. The universe doesn't need any more random chaos.
I dreamed about some kind of prehistoric looking animal with a huge squarish head that was the size of a small pony but with a very thick body and giraffe style spots. It did not have a long neck or very much of a neck at all. It wanted me to pet it and I did. I can't find any images that look remotely like it, so I must have made it up.
I think it's better to eschew evil. The universe doesn't need any more random chaos.
I dreamed about some kind of prehistoric looking animal with a huge squarish head that was the size of a small pony but with a very thick body and giraffe style spots. It did not have a long neck or very much of a neck at all. It wanted me to pet it and I did. I can't find any images that look remotely like it, so I must have made it up.
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