Remember in high school when girls were into starving artist types? You know, guys who liked art and bought a type writer because it matched their cardigan and their strategically messy hair. It is so confusing to me because the starving artist is poor and can offer you nothing other their lame-ass, fuck-face interpretation of art, literature, etc. As an aspiring historian we don’t have anything in common…or so I thought!
It turns out historians have a lot in common with the “starving artist”. For instance we are not actually starving (we just don’t pretend…pricks). Also we are poor–seriously we don’t have a mother fuckin’ dime (but come on! it comes with those mysterious eyes). And like the starving artist, we historians never have all the tools we need to do our “art”. The starving artist’s tools can be ordered on amazon. My tools are at some archive where no one gives a shit about me or what I am doing.
I’d like to close by stating what is obvious. Those pretentious, half-processed, bullshit interpretations are rooted in the work of historians. If it was not for historians, the starving artist would not have a body of work to skim, misinterpret and over simplify into the meaning of his/her “art”.
So you’re welcome starving artist. You get to be cool and not have to really do anything other than take my work and use it to explain you post-postivism. So even though we both “starve”, you’ll always be sexy. But it makes me feel better to know that the girls that do talk to us aren’t actually interested in what either of us are saying. I am not saying I don’t like art. I just don’t appreciate not being credited for the primary source analysis that is the absolute basis for its creation and subsequent meaning (I’m not jealous).
Now don’t you feel better?