Good morning! Could you do me a favor? Let’s everybody place
his sporty sunglasses on the back of his neck, as if the back of the neck had pupils
(that required shade.) Thank you. I can observe quite brightly that everyone
wore the company-issue salmon polo. Later on, it’ll be Middle Management!, on
the loose!, at the coffee urn! (The selfies will be classic.) (I hope you
charged your phones.) Sometimes we feel like deer, don’t we?, clipping out of
the woods to gaze at the lumbering train as it staggers toward the destination.
Deer and train; this is a useful dichotomy. The train—kind of like American
commerce. It’s a deer-watch-train economy. (Granted, with some local variation.)
We could call each customer “the little ceiling” or we could envision the whole
sha-bang as “subsistence level consumerism.” The sheer amount of going concerns
that orbit “the little ceiling of a subsistence-level consumer” and you, Middle
Management!, will you, too, orbit? Don’t answer. Thank you. It gets so you
can’t have a thought about the arts without yearning for a sandwich. The Dutch
master, Peter Paul Rubens, for example: the extravagant mythology or (to be
honest) a few hot corned beefs on rye, a few Reubens. You didn’t hear this from
me, but that continental breakfast looked dangerous; “incontinental breakfast” sounds
more like it. Anyone here an Arsenal supporter? (Don’t answer that question.) Anyone
here a Walloon? (Don’t answer.) These are rhetorical questions. Where was I?
Oh, yes. The Triumph of the Arts. Well, not recently! Do you dig-dug? Rock
songs: GAH!: Rock songs. The arena rock wafting (GAH!) as you entered this
training facility? I think of it as an
old black turd with white edges, kind of like a charcoal briquette, rotting in
the weeds. I threw that Journey song—“Don’t Stop Believing”—into Google
Translate and it returned a photograph of a whitening dark turd in Paris , 4th arrondissement, near the Louvre. Anyone
here have high cholesterol? This time you may respond (a show of hands.) Thank
you, and you, and you, too. Yes, this information, senior management did ask me
to report. High cholesterol, naughty naughty. (Ehhhhh. Siiiiike.) I’m not
really the speaker. I’m not really from this company. And by the looks of things,
I’m about to get chased in . . . three, two, one!
Cultural Affairs Week Editorial Schedule
Cultural Affairs Week Editorial Schedule
March 2: Crows & Owls
March 3: I Eat Mushrooms!
March 5: Corporate Strategist Speaks to Middle Management
March 6: Kits
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