So, you have seen the study, wine sommeliers/connoisseurs (many paid thousands to hundreds of thousands to infinity for their skillz) possibly (I qualify, since I think scientific method, by definition, requires replication) can not even sense white versus red wine? Forget nuance, acidity, tannins, medieval toffee/toffee-ass/cat-toffee-ass undertones, whatever glossary of palate, they can’t taste red from white.
Red from white.
So this should really set off your BS meter, right?
Does a shark in formaldehyde titled The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living (we need a new high bar for pretentious titles, “untitled” ain’t cutting it, folks, not even for poets) that sells for $8 million, give or take (I suggest take, but I can’t really say)?
A lot of people scoffed at the artiste, Hirst. Many said, “I could do that.”
He replied, “But you didn’t, did you?”
Touche.
Other art you “don’t get”?
