ISSUE 63

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 At the Denver Art Museum—that place where kids with peanut allergies can feel safe from sports—several visitors were accidentally locked in the new BrainWash art exhibit overnight.  
 “After spending eight hours confined in a room with a popsicle stick stuck to the floor, spinning yellow lights, Nazi propaganda, and drying paint, my life has been completely changed,” Elizabeth Liscomb remarked. “I can’t remember where I was born or why we keep undesirables around, but I love art.” 
 Kendrick Taylor, a nervous man with the large, bulging eyes of a cornered rat, also spent the night in the museum. Before he came to be locked in the BrainWash exhibit, however, Taylor suffered severe mental trauma from other art.   
 “I just wanted to use the bathroom,” he said. “They didn’t even have one. I had to use an exhibit—and then everyone shamed me for being a white male and threw crumpled newspaper at me.”  
 BrainWash has been championed by art critics, one of whom announced the exhibit pushes “innovative frontiers into the mass conception of what it means to be an objectified piece of lumber in today’s juxtaposed society of political strife and post-hydrogenated adjectives.”
 When asked what a “post-hydrogenated adjective” was, the critic said it was like a Dorito you find under your car seat and feed to your screaming toddler to pacify her. If anyone were there, doing this would be wrong, but you’re alone, so it’s okay.
 Many wonder how an art critic can come away with such conclusions. So, we asked Klev Hansen, an art critic known for devastating reviews of art, food, and his friends’ partners.
 “I choose a bunch of words from 17th century French literature, the Bhagavad Gita, Lucky Charms cereal boxes, and scout out a couple of middle school students for their opinion.” Hansen said while eating an apple without hands. “Then, I don’t eat or sleep for two weeks, write up a review while doing a headstand in a sauna, and then feel significantly better than everyone who doesn’t agree with me.” 
 “In writing a review of art,” Hansen continued, as he persisted in eating like a raptor from Jurassic Park. “I am actually doing art.”
 Eventually, we contacted the creator of BrainWash, Leena Hämäläinen. She was found doing weird things in weird places, either because she attempts to push the frontiers of free expression or because she’s a schizophrenic.
 “What is art?” Hämäläinen said. “Why does everyone hate that I’m drying fish in the laundry room? Why did I paint my clothes on this morning? What if I ate dirt for three months?”
 She then left, as she had a pressing engagement to play a lute to penguins in South Africa. The reasons for this were unclear but may involve climate change, the decline of classical music, or a general camaraderie with flightless birds.
 Coming away from the night at the exhibit, some visitors were inspired. Kenneth Loggerman announced he was a modern artist for wearing shorts the whole winter.
 “Just challenging contemporary society,” he said after demonstrating to onlookers his sickly white calves. “I also cut up perfectly good Levis to make uneven jean capris.”
 Before we realized what we were doing, we also interviewed Christy Johansson, an acquaintance of Loggerman.    
 “If Kenneth were hot, I would totally put him on my Insta,” she said and stared at her iPhone. “But he’s not. So, no.” When asked what “Insta” was, she ignored the interviewer and tweeted about an underpaid barista who made her latte wrong. She was later found in a fifty-thousand-dollar car talking on her cell phone while tailing someone.
 Janitorial services later revealed that the popsicle stick was not a part of the BrainWash exhibit but litter the custodian Geraldo had missed the night before.
 “We apologize for the misunderstanding,” they said in an official statement. “But we’d also like some money.”   Geraldo was later invited to present at an opening in New York, featuring top talent from the modern art world. When asked if he had any ideas, he said maybe a wet countertop or a bathroom stall after someone uses a whole roll of toilet paper to keep their butt from touching the toilet seat.  

          
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