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.
That moment when you’re casually looking at things on your friend’s kitchen table and they own the complete box set of The Prisoner!!! I want to buy him a present or make him dinner or something just for being this randomly cool. My English teacher in boarding school — who was infinitely cooler than any teacher anywhere else ever — had us watch this show and it is weirdly addictive and culty.
My plan was to hoof it down to AT&T today, cross my fingers that they’re open, and get someone to fix my phone (my charger BROKE OFF in it yesterday afternoon) but I’m probably going to watch The Prisoner instead. And eat Chinese food.
Nearly one in five students do drugs, drink or smoke cigarettes during the school day, according to a jarring new survey by the National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse at Columbia University.
While the revelation that 17% of high school students may be half in the bag on any given day may come as a shock to some parents or teachers, it’s old news to the 1,000 students surveyed.
Some 86% told survey-takers that they were well aware their glassy-eyed classmates were stoned or drunk.
You’re in US History class at the buttcrack of dawn, basically half-asleep, when Mrs. McKnight and policemen in battlegear drag you out of class because a package has arrived for you and it’s ticking. So you walk all the way outside, way deep into the parking lot away from any buildings and they tell you to open it. It’s ticking, the police have on bomb gear, so obviously they think it *could* explode, but they ask YOU to open it.
And it’s just a metronome because you go to a boarding school for the arts and that’s what musicians order. Metronomes.
I’ve been waiting on this movie to get released for awhile now for three reasons:
It’s been getting that whole “film festival buzz.”
Michael Fassbender, aka DoMeNow Please, is awesome in this from most accounts and I’ll watch Carey Mulligan in anything.
It’s about sex addiction. Cue uncomfortable sex scenes while sitting next to your platonic, but handsome, friend.
Plus, be sure to pause the video at 0:33 to catch Ms. Nicole Beharie giggling it up at the table across from him. And near the end, I’m pretty sure that’s her hair in a sex scene with Michael, which would officially make her the most successful person from our tiny little high school.
Oh she was in an episode of The Good Wife last night too.
Go ahead girl and make it big cause I have all kinds of embarrassing high school pictures…which honestly will remain hidden because you actually look great while I’m the pinnacle of hot mess with inexplicably ashy lips in every single photo.
Look Govies! A picture from high school of the residence hall taken by a current student. From what I remember, the left is the boys’ side and directly ahead is the girls’ side.
I lived on the basement level (not seen from this angle, but there are windows on the other side of the building) and one boring winter day, Kate and I decided it would be fun for me to climb out of my window, run around the residence hall, and sneak into her room. I put on a big puffy red & blue Fila jacket (….I actually owned a Fila jacket y’all), climbed out, and made it safely.
But.
Somebody saw me and told an RA that some strange man was walking around outside the girls’ dorm in a big coat and climbed into a window. The security guard came by to check. Twice. The first time, I rushed through the bathroom into the adjoining room (which was empty at the time) and waited for them to leave. The second time they came, Kate had the bright idea to put me on the bed and bury me in the piles of laundry she was folding. So I just lied there in plain sight until it felt safe enough to leave, but instead of the window (because they might be patrolling) I went through the door and into the hallway. We had a lookout wait in the lobby until the security guard turned his head, the signal was given, and I just rolled through the door and around the corner like nothing ever happened.
I would have died. How do you coordinate when to sneak out of your room and run upstairs to someone else’s if there’s no Internet to chat on? I can’t tell you how many FreeOpenDiary posts I made late at night about being in love with Zach Dellinger…or how Michael Morris and I snuck booze out of some old people’s liquor cabinet on a band trip to Hilton Head. Not to mention porn. Boarding school was my first experience with Broadband internet, so you best believe we were knee-deep in pornography at all times. (How you doin, Morpheus/Kazaa?)
I’m glad I went way back when, before they realized how much shit 16-year-olds can get into.
The School of Visual Arts is not here for your 68 cumshots senior thesis.
