the day TATE died

I never thought it would happen so soon. Not only TATE, but my enthusiasm as well. It just went down together with the London Underground. "There's a fake rebellion in London galleries" he said. And I assume he's right. Rebellions always start without me and I must always catch-up the updates. But yes, there is one!

Duchamp, my friend, you used to be a place in time... but now, you are a place in TATE, you're hidden from the world and shown to the crowd. I've shared my ticket between you and Munoz, and please..don't get upset, but his curator was much much better than yours. I truly appreciate the fact that you gave me the guts to fill in the visitor's book for the first time in my life. I was against this practice. But maybe because I had nothing to say. This time, instead..[This exhibition is a total crap. How can you put Fountain in such a context?] Was it my own huge disappointment or was it this guy's rage? I think they were both, and they came simultaneously. TATE SUCKS! It isn't for me anymore! It is the supermarket that brings commodities to customers, and I've been there already.

I don't want to let myself infected with this virus of 'contemporary art' anymore. Its effects are spreading everywhere and they affect everyone. The illness of 'contemporary art' is imminent and incurable. I would fight against this art! Although I know this would make me totally ill. But this illness would help me save the others. The University of Arts ain't a safe place. Students are in danger. Someone needs to come to the rescue!

P.S. Crying babies and mothers who complain to the security staff about losing their daughters at level 3..pretty ladies pretending to read statements on the walls in the urge of fulfilling the museum standard protocol..lovely purple bags even when you buy the cheapest 60p postcard with a Barbara Krueger text..membership subscription flyers everywhere...Welcome, dear customer! Hope you've enjoyed your time!