Lest We Think the Neighbors Have a Monopoly on Weird

On Thursdays, I work reception instead of enjoying sweet, sweet freedom upstairs where at least the people calling me are known quantities of weird, as opposed to the hellmouth that is the main phone. I got in this morning and went to put postage on something, and was confronted with this:


Just a pile of random mailing crap, you say? Shows what an ignoramus YOU are, you damnable philistine! That is a work of PUBLIC FUCKING ART, and don't you forget it. You know how I know it's art? Because it's an epic portrayal of the dignity of the human spirit and its imprisonment in the drudgeries of the capitalist society. The air in the packyfilla symbolizes the childlike wonder we so frequently are forced to constrain to meet societal norms, and the broken UPS box stands rigid but not triumphant as the sheer force of human will struggles against the workplace's attempts at domination. THAT'S how I know it's art.









Actually, it's because it's labelled.

"Ice Sculpture," Artist Unknown. Mixed media. 2008.

I think maybe people are not busy enough.