April 18: exhibit number one: my number two

Before getting on the plane in Baden-Baden there were a couple of hours to kill, so I went with my friend Remy to the modern art gallery of that town. Of the exhibition there are certainly things to say but I won’t do so here. What struck me more than anything else was the hyper-pristine state of the gallery. We were the first in at ten o’clock. I happened to be wearing a suit because there was no room for it in my hand luggage but even I was a huge disappointment to the gallery. In fact, all visitors and staff are massively out of place in the sparkling white, dustless environment of polished chrome and immaculate surface. At one stage I needed to go to the toilets. The coffee had got to me. I disappeared into the pod of the cubicle and to my eternal shame produced a rather messy number two. We are not worthy.
A word on the exhibition. The work of the artists was probably closer to my number two than to the white light of the gallery. By which I do not mean that the art was shit. Rather, its preoccupation was the animal and the primitive, rather than the controlled and the sanitised.
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