When I was seventeen, my friends and I got tired of trudging out into the woods when we wanted to get drunk. We cleaned up a room in my basement and started getting wasted on the weekends. Eventually, the jocks and cool kids started coming over and getting fucked up. Being artists, me and my boy Seth encouraged everyone to write shit on the walls in charcoal. After a year, it looked an awful lot like this, except nobody drew any swastikas.
What's the point? Deitch is a straight up douche bag if he thinks Dash Snow and Dan Colen's nest is anything more than an adolescent romper room. Fuck it, I'm going to track down my old scumbag friends and re-create my basement. Maybe I can get Kev to hammer out some Metallica on his bass and re-make the dual hosed funnel complete with the shut-off valve. It's just kinda pathetic when it's two Biennial artists pulling the same shit as a bunch of bored high school kids.
I need some whiskey. I'm going to burn some more books now that once again theory has failed me. If you are in school, just document your parties and send the tapes to Kathy at Deitch. You'll get into the Biennial for sure.