I’m just letting you know as a warning that before you go jacking off 68 times into little bottles for your final project at *~*/8 ART SKOOL 8\*~* you might wanna run that by administration.
School of Visual Arts MFA student Marc Bradley Johnson was all set to debut his final piece, titled Take This Sperm and Be Free of Me, before health concerns thwarted everything he’d worked so hard for. First, Johnson accessed his materials.
Then he set up a refrigerator at SVA’s Visual Arts Gallery in Chelsea, loaded it with 68 vials of his own semen, and put up a Craigslist ad alerting the public that anyone could walk in and take a part of him home. It was about “creation, parenting, desire, masculinity, fantasy, and reality,” he said. But his liberal Manhattan art school just saw dangerous waste.
I STILL don’t understand art school kids, and I went to one. I didn’t understand this girl’s project in high school where she made a mobile using bottles of her own piss, and I do not understand this guy’s semenarium or whatever. I don’t understand those girls who take their period blood and smear it on their faces for art and I don’t understand performance art videos where nothing happens except bad cinematography and outfits kindergarteners designed.
I do not understand art school.
But I do understand New York Magazine and I love whoever wrote “First, Johnson accessed his materials.” That is the best euphemism for spanking the monkey I have ever seen. I must find a way to work that into my everyday life.
Friend: Rafi, let’s go out!
Me: Sorry, I need to wash my hair and access some materials.
Friend: Like files?
Me: Yes. Files. Files labeled Big Poles, Small Holes dot em pee gee.
The only part of this that flies with me is the subversive element of literally masturbating and calling it art, because like so many specialized circles that I can’t get into, all of the conversations sound like eggheads jacking off to the sound of their own intelligence. It’s just ejaculations of nonsense and big words that don’t even go together. This is how I feel about queer studies kids, this is how I feel about white people who try to direct conversations on race, and this is how I feel about overly-artsy kids who must prove their artsiness at all times: If you can’t explain what you’re doing or what you mean to a layman, then you are literally just spazzing out at the sound of your own faux-brilliance and I don’t give a shit.
To be fair, SVA didn’t totally destroy the entire set-up. They simply put his little cumjars into a box with a label explaining what’s inside. He’s upset, saying half of his thesis is wasted, but I have zero sympathy in this corner. Unless his thesis really was “How I spent a boatload of money to literally diddle my way into a master’s degree” then I have no fucks to give over his sexytime solo exploits.
How do you really even fix your face to request a passing grade for jacking-off all month? I hope he was at least creative with it. If he spent the whole time on Brazzers watching big-booty bitches get their backdoors punished by oversized wangs in the same positions over and over, then he should just get a Fail for his whole life in general. There is too much porn in this world for that.
Give me that thesis. I’ll show you how to get an A-plus!