There was no going to tender or auction to find a true price, a secret deal was made, the artist even sharing the pain, lowering his price, what nonsense! Who’s to say the artist and curator didn’t come to some secret deal and split the money between them? These are desperate times, the ship of Auz is leaking, it could be sinking and it’s everyone to the lifeboats, fend for yourself, stash the millions any way you can so you and yours will survive. Since the deadheads' brouhaha over Jackson Pollock's “Blue Poles” nobody is allowed to question the art experts’ decisions, THEY know best. It’s “gospel” proof modern society and culture is bankrupt, high capitalism has fucked the whole planet over, the APOCALYPSE is nigh! Art is dead and I give up.
I noticed Seal, Ricky Martin and Joel Madden, for all their jumping about and squealing of “lifetime mentorship", once their TV talent freak show, “The Voice”, had folded, couldn’t get on the plane quick enough and get off this prison island. They’d discovered Auz is not the paradise of surf, sun and sand but more like a police state where every move is under surveillance and dictatorship yells orders through public-address systems: no privacy, no medicinal pot smoking, no gay marriage, no funk at all, just being herded about like sheep. “Then why don’t you fuck off?” I hear you say. Sadly, I’m one of those Aussies who was born here, so were my parents, grandparents and great grandparents, and I don’t have two passports, only one, Australian, and I’m stuck here! Oh dear! Boo hoo hoo. (The boat people see Auz differently, the dole is preferable to starving amidst the destruction of war, and good luck to them.)