Bricoleur

I drew rude parallels between the art the NEA supported

and Hitler’s Reich Ministry of Culture, with its Nazi rallies

and propaganda posters, parades and spectacle, the Tall Ships,

Miss Liberty, the Boston Pops, Patient Zero, while banning

the Entartete Kunst, degenerate artists. I am a degenerate.

Compared to a flaxen-haired Aryan. I was spawned in some

estaminet in Antwerp. Weren’t you? I am dark, rodent-like.

A knacker in an abattoir. A bricoleur, making art out of scrap.

Not art that wouldn’t offend the Rotary Club or the Chamber of

Commerce. An art of The Establishment. That’s an oxymoron,

like corporate responsibility. Scrib was a great naysayer.

I sing of Olaf, glad and big.