CROSSED SIGNALS


22" x 17" x 28" H    2008

Popular myths get jumbled together.

Composition: floral foam, wallpaper paste, pulverized leaves, toy pony, toy rabbit, jelly beans, loincloth, safety pin, tinfoil, thorns, large rusty nails.


I got the idea for this piece shortly after Easter when I took the cat in for a check up.  (He was sleeping only about twenty hours a day and I suspected feline insomnia.) I walked in and the doctor said, "Hi.  Did you have a nice Easter?" Innocent banter, like the grocery checker inquiring after your health. I said Yes, but I got my signals crossed a little bit and ended up crucifying a rabbit. Major fox paws.  I'm such a social blunderbuss I'd forgotten where I was - a VETERINARIAN'S office. She blanched (I've never used that word before, except about cooking). "What ... What happened ... What did you ... Where is the rabbit now?!" She wanted to go find the rabbit and pull out the nails and bind up its little wounds.

Well, I got her calmed down by explaining that it was a joke.  I had not brutally nailed a bunny to a cross. It was a joke about the mishmash of paganism, superstition and commercialism that's been going on for several thousand years.  I pity the young children who are exposed to this just when their brains are developing some intellectual capacity.  What is the kiddo to think when the parent says to abandon some fundamental beliefs but continue with other, equally fantastical ones?  The interior monologue goes something like this:  Yeah, okay. You got me on the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. You got me good. Ha, ha.  Have your yucks.  So why don't we just cut to the chase on this God and Jesus business?  Been there, done that.  Fer chrissakes, I'm six years old!  I'm not an idiot. You think I've been eating lead paint or something?

Now, I wouldn't want to poke fun at anyone's religion. But I could if I wanted to and these days no one can legally hang me or cut off my head or burn me at the stake (in this country). This is progress but we have a ways to go. I just plain don't see the attraction.  You give up reason and rationality and in return you get everlasting life in heaven.  I've gotten the poopy end of the stick in a lot of deals but never a loser like that.  As I understand it, the itinerary would be:

    Day one. BASK IN THE LOVE AND GLORY OF GOD.
    (Wow.  This is really great. I've never felt so much love and glory.  This is wonderful.)

    Day two. BASK IN THE LOVE AND GLORY OF GOD.
    (Still basking.  This is so ... heavenly.  Such peace and tranquility.)

    Day three. BASK IN THE LOVE AND GLORY OF GOD.
    (MMMMMM.This is nice.  Nice and easy and ... slow.)

    Day four.  BASK IN THE LOVE AND GLORY OF GOD.
    (Yeah. Same again.  Go cat go.  Zip-peee. At least I found out what the "H" in Jesus H. Christ stands for. Could come in handy for Trivial Pursuit. Someday. I guess. Maybe.)

    Day five.  BASK IN THE LOVE AND GLORY OF GOD.
    (Well, let's see.  I wonder ... any tools around here? Anything needs fixed?  Something to read?  Old National Geographic?  Cereal box? Anything?  I guess a ciggy is out of the question.

My deepest apologies but this is about as attractive to me as spending eternity in the bottom of a hamster cage.

 


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found object art
by gary carlson
geneva, ny

 
all you can eat
ant farm 1.2.3.4.
babies in peril
ballerina
bat boy
black lagoon
born to be green
burka
contrary (hammerhead)
crossed signals
expanding foam
frankenbambi
ima sturnbich
in the box
judgment day
low maint pet
man bites dog
mastodon
nell's nightmare
quicksand
roundheads and flatheads
shamrock theater
snapper
tarpit
terror from the deep
triptych in walnuts
voodoo quadruped pelvises
vulture
wait a minute - where's the baby?
untitled (enigmatic figure)
untitled (galloping figure)

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