For “The Last Happy Meal” you could always pad things out with Fry Kids and McNuggets. There’s more then enough of them to fill up the whole painting.

The abortion thing: What, no pregnancy tests? I think she should’ve gone all out to look credible. That Feministing article kind of irks me:

Ah, but rather than spark a discussion about the “ambiguity surrounding form and function of a woman’s body,” this really just propped up a lot of ridiculous anti-choice talking points, like women have abortions just for the heck of it, because they’re bored on a Saturday night or something.

See, I’m not one of those “Oh, abortion is awful, I sure feel sorry for the little fetus, but a person’s bodily integrity can’t be compromised to keep another person healthy” types (Although I do agree with that line of thinking). I’m more of the “fuck fetuses” school of thought. Abortion on demand is abortion on demand, and it’s not my job, and it’s certainly not the state’s job to make sure you aren’t getting an abortion for the wrong reasons.

Anyway, this was a fine idea for an artistic piece; it doesn’t just tweak the bluenoses, it forces abortion supporters to confront their own attitudes.

1) Why aren’t they bringing up Maplethrope? Surely, the man is still mucho offensive to this set. Come on, show Bob some love (hate)?

Maybe teh Gey makes Ben feel all odd and tingly and in need of a cold shower.

I think VB’s johnson is much smaller than this depiction might suggest.

This could be a trace of Mannerism in Caravaggio’s technique. Artists of his time were prone to wild exaggerations in proportion, often rendering certain parts of the body much, much larger than they would appear in real life, straining credulity well beyond the breaking point.

Stronger yet is my desire to re-interpret the Last Supper using the McDonaldland characters…Ronald in the center with a glowing Golden Arches over his head, with his own personal Judas – the Hamburglar – seated on the opposite side of the table, clutching the Burger King sack holding the thirty burgers for which he has betrayed Ronald. Title of this masterpiece: “The Last Happy Meal”.

Fabulous! I bid one Gazillion dollars for it.

Chocolate dipping never gets old.

Perhaps, then, art is devolving from a nadir of chocolate-dipping to revisit piss-dipping, to trend so logically, as the VB would have it, to the aesthetic of the Lascaux paintings? I vote we skip abstract expressionism!

The only thing more entertaining than an indignant WingNut ™ is a stupid indignant WingNut ™.

Oh, and Jennifer: those are two excellent ideas. I don’t know if you’d get enough characters to fill out the Last Happy Meal, but the Ghost of Xmas Past is tip-top.

“I didn’t know your bread was buttered that side, Bongo.”

“It isn’t. I’ve been happily married for 35 years. It’s just, a chap like you can turn a guy’s head.”

“I’m sorry, Bongo. Lunch is…on Millie.”

“Would it make any difference if it was…hummus?”

“I’m sorry, Bongo. I’m strictly “butter-side-up.”"

Good point. If anything will drive customers away from the “artistic marketplace”…

In May 1961 Manzoni defecated into 90 small cans and had them sealed with the text “Artist’s Shit.” Each 30-gram can was priced by weight based on the current value of gold (around $1.12 a gram in 1960).[ In the following years, the cans have spread to various art collections all over the world and netted large prices, far outstripping inflation. Many of them have also exploded, maybe because of corrosion and expanding gases.

What’s next? Complaining about rap?

And, hey presto, from the Clownhall comments:

Bulldog74 writes:

…come to think of it, your observation has some wide application–I’ll bet that most “gangsta” rappers can’t sing or play an instrument either (or spell, for that matter)

Thursday, April, 24, 2008 10:12 AM

We aim to please.

As for the Virgin Ben and “modern” art haters, how long do they hold these grudges? Serrano and Finley? Why not Piero Manzoni? Maybe Ben’s still mad at Marcel Duchamp? Or about the Venus of Willendorf?