The New Yorker’s designer-bootlicking tongue is soiled inexorably with its latest adulation. In its unyielding allegiance to all things obtrusively bourgeoisie, the magazine resolves to gentrify our purest and most organic art form – fingerpainting. Once the expression of the masses (or of those with at least one finger and something to smear something else with), fingers are now the brushes of the haute monde thanks to the iPhone’s touchscreen flatulence; mind your drool Pedro Samise, you corrupting stain!
You see, a pious litmus test for ecumenical sagacity can be found in the subtler tones of how one presents him or herself while in the public eye – it is not about minute violations of societal norms (such as murder or touching strippers). FTVS’s interminable search for decency, and, alternatively, exposure and castigation of impropriety, is by no means meant to be preferential or partisan. It is truth sought!
And what better illumination of verisimilitude can be found than this dedication to the puberant moments of Sir Michael Jackson (not to be confused with Sir Paul McCartney, also a fan of innocent and FTVS-endorsed little boy sleepovers):
The US prison industrial complex would be wise to steal some pages from the Philippines’ prison playbook. Rehabilitation, not retribution, is what fondles the soul. It is also something MJ steadily taught us in his pursuit of nubile Macauley Culkin replicas.
In this dissipating world, balance is rarer than a rhino fisting a turtle. Very few comprehend the importance of a geometrically satisfying theology. Even fewer pursue it. Hedi Slimane does though. His centrist shot of Kate Moss’ nipple covering issue 23 of Australian magazine Monster Children evidences his pursuit, and should be pinned in every federal office across the globe. Our world would make more sense. FTVS hereby nominates Kate Moss’ nipple for the Nobel Prize in Economics.
he excellent VBS documentary Genki and The Art of Eel Porn, following Shane Smith in the streets of Kabukich?, was a catalyst in the thought process behind the creation of FTVS. It was the signal we had been waiting for. It was our piece of toast. The unambiguous sign assuring us that somewhere on this planet, dedicated individuals did not lose hope in their humanity and were willing to explore its most intimate corners. From there on it has been a perpetual quest to find such zealous devotees of Mankind, and not so surprisingly, our latest discovery also came from the land of Amaterasu. Bizarre magazine has more on this much needed haute couture faux-tumor craze.
FTVS is thankful for the normalcy and balance that dawns on the world from the land of the rising sun. The equanimity of our Nipponese friendlies brings perpetual light to the darker crevaces of humanity.
ore and more people have begun intricately coloring Excel spreadsheets, projecting them onto old drive-through screens, and attempting to turn Bill Gates’ monopolistic outrage into a radical liberal art medium. A group of self-described “proto-garde minimalist perimeters”, now living in Berlin, after a requisite 4 year stay in Williamsberg, are taking credit for spawning what they claim to be an “art movement more subversive than Foucault’s vasectomy.”
The idea, spawned by Luciano Kelkebrenner, came to him, he says, while in a “deep, smutty, ketamine-fueled coma.” Kelkebrenner, a former database manager who now splits his time between Brooklyn and Berlin, is pleased with the interest in the movement he professes to lead. He hazily noted that the rising interest in this artform will, if nothing else, allow him to have “more sex with underfed women who pretend to like art.”
Ryan McGinley, that venereal wart who stains the pop landscape with his sleazing effigies, proclaims that “what Luciano and his coopérateurs are achieving is what Warhol strived for: opacity with errant injections of Lacanian transmogrification.”
FTVS wholeheartedly disagrees.
Even the once respectable San Francisco MoMA intends to dedicate it’s second-floor to this quibble. Does Pedro Samise fail to realize that database managers are our century’s chimney sweeps? That rube! That provincial boor! I gag at his Excel exhibition as if I were receiving a chimney soot enema through my trachea!
"A conversation with myself" Luciano Kelkebrenner, 2009. Colored cell in NeoOffice.
Paul Valery wrote Les opinions des personnes qui n'ont pas refait leur esprit selon leurs besoins réels et leurs pouvoirs vérifiables -- n'ont aucune importance qualitative. His aphorism captures the will of FTVS to bring to the masses quality, informed, and unapologetic reflections and commentaries on the state, potential state, and future state of the world.
FTVS is BA, KP, and JC. Three educated young men currently residing in the USA who spent the last three years actively studying the human condition by living and traveling together. We have occasionally fornicated with each other's women.
