I have had an unfortunately extensive experience with Whales.
Weirdly, for 4 years, I worked in a Wyland Gallery. Know who Wyland is? No? That’s because he’s a douchetastic crust hole. For example: that picture you just clicked on? It’s by his buddy, Jim Warren (another douche nozzle, but considerably less so). Jim Warren and Wyland (yes, that’s his whole name, like Madonna, except, again, it’s a total fucktard we’re talking about. His real name is “Bob”, btw) would come into the gallery every once in a while, high as shit (no, they never offered to share, selfish pricks) and point out all their “inside jokes” in the paintings. Now look closely again at that piece-of-shit picture — Jim Warren etched a giant fucking boner in Wyland’s jeans. Just for kicks.
See what I mean about being a douchtastic crust hole?
Anyway, the guy’s gimmick was whales, namely saving them … by painting them. As life-sized as possible. He did “whaling walls” (Yeah, I know… Jews everywhere are so pleased this idiot is tooling around the planet), which were buildings crusted with his shitty whale art. How did this help save the poor mammal beasties? I don’t really know. Maybe it got people to focus so hard on craptacular art that they failed to pursue a career in whaling…?
Perhaps because of this lengthy and freakish employment opportunity, I have always, always, always refused to read Moby Dick. I fucking hate Herman Melville, who had his head blitheringly far up his own ass, and who tragically created some execrable, unreadable literature which usually only doddering old male professors will foist on the young. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it — Moby Dick in 6 seconds: the whale is god, we don’t always get along god, harpoons are pointy, and the coffin is symbolic and ironic. Oh, and ”Call me Ishmael.” That’s really all you need to know. Hey, Sorcia, want to read some Melville, maybe Bartleby the Scrivner? I’d prefer not to, asshole.
As luck would have it, I’m supposed to be tutoring Moby Cocksucker this summer, but again, I’d prefer not to. So I’ve been printing out the sparknotes version and telling the kids my theory on how much Melville sucks balls in hell. Now they all just think I’m unbalanced and furious all the time. Meanwhile, the professor can’t believe how much vitriol these kids are spewing in class.
I called my mother last night to complain about this hateful position, and she told me that when she read Moby Dick for a master’s class at Stetson, on the day of the exam for the literary atrocity, she stopped by Burger King for lunch on the way and ordered a (wait for it…) “Whaler” sandwich. I know. She amazes me, too.
Now that’s irony.
Further irony: That Wyland gallery where I earned iron ducats at a thankless job is now a sushi restaurant. I wouldn’t even lie about it.
Save the Whales? Fuck, no. Let’s eat the fuckers!
(I call dibs on the big white bastard named Moby. I got a packet of tartar sauce with his name on it.)
Oh, oh, oh. You bring back the pain of being a senior in high school, right about the time of graduation, and my parents wanting to take a family outing to see a Whaling Wall in Portland, Me. It was only about 20 minutes away but they shoved the whole family, all 5 of us in a Geo Metro. 3 of these people weighing about 200 lbs. Really, save the friggin’ whales all right and the poor gal squished in the back seat amongst them. I just figured back then, and you proved it may be a plausible theory, that the arteeest found a way to get his name out there and travel around the world for free. Brilliant but…
And I have to say that I find the boner a tad too hilarious cause I’m just that kind of gal.
Woman, what is your problem with 19th century books? I don’t mind Moby Dick, but maybe that’s because I read the abridged version (it’s called “having a good editor”, Herman). I also kind of liked Bartelby. Really. But I was 18 and the literary equivalent of a vacuum cleaner, and out of pervy books to read.
@BalcGal: God, that is a SADISTIC thing to put a kid through. You need a hug or some valium or sumpin’? Also, (giving no details, you just have to trust me) the boner, while certainly funny is most definately a HUGE exageration.
@TDEC: *hangs head in shame* I know! I know! I just run out of patience with long-winded, self-important, overly symbolized diatribes. Can’t help it. It will always strike me as pretentious, nevemind Ishmael’s androgeny (albeit the perviest thing in the book). And, Bartleby?! REALLY?! That is the most heavy-handed bullshit I’ve ever had to spend 18 minutes on.
Do tell about the exageration!
See above — “you just have to trust me.”
I never kiss and tell. But, kiss and mock? That be a whole NOTHER ball game.
Well, never let it be said teacher’s don’t have an agenda. You may have capsized the pleasure any of those students might have had from reading something and discovering its merits and/or some sort of affinity for the work in question. Or not. But really, so angry? Whycome? Also: I kind of really want some sushi now.
@ Phem: Oh, they’re welcome to read the book themselves and form their own opinions, but they’re too lazy to bother, so they come to me for the “highlight reel” of Melville. This is my highlight reel. It’s all I got.
I want Cultured Pearl sushi!!!
“highlight reel” eh? I see. Okay,okay. Yes, CP Sushi. (Oh, did you do your review on trip advisor? I did!)
@ Phem: Also, I like that you used “capsize” in your description of me trashing MD. Thanks for reminding me about Trip Advisor — I’ll go do it right now.
@Sorcia: Capsize indeed. So you saw what I did there, eh?
Maybe it’s just that I don’t remember Bartleby. I was young and impressionable at the time. I remember thinking something along the lines of…”oh. cool.” and moving on to whatever was next which now I don’t remember a thing about because I forget EVERYTHING. A friend was saying she liked Poe’s A Cask of Amontillado, and I remembered I read it but nothing at all about the content. It was…creepy? She also said that Poe got everything he deserved being buried on the intersection between a decent and a really scary Baltimore neighbourhood…anyway…tangent. I am losing my mind. Memory. Whatever. Soon I will be so demented I’ll think Wordsworth is cute.
@Tdec: Don’t worry — Not even Wordsworth thought Wordsworth was cute.
you forgot to mention that they don’t even start to hunt moby dick until the last 30 pages. and that there is some serious jungle fever shit between the narrator and his precious savage whatshisface. and that there is a scene where they are all gloriously squeezing the blubber of a sperm whale that is essentially a huge circle-jerking scene.
i did like this short passage, though: “He was naturally a very nervous, shuddering sort of little fellow, this bread-faced steward; the progeny of a bankrupt baker and a hospital nurse. And what with the standing spectacle of the black terrific Ahab, and the periodical tumultuous vistations of these three savages, Dough-Boy’s whole life was one continual lip-quiver.”
lovesies meansies
@Luker: HAH! See?! It’s intolerable. Just look at that god-awful sentence. It’s something you’d see scrawled in feces on the wall of an insane asylum… That whole book is one continual lip-quiver for me.
loveyoumeanit
[...] moved on, eventually, to sell dolphins-fucking-as-art. I didn’t miss the endless chorus of Blues Clues, or the lame apron, or the complete lack [...]
clearly you don’t know shit wyland might be one of the best artist at what he does have you seen any of the wyland walls your self you mother fucker
Bob, is that you? Quit stalking me. I told you, when you wake up in the middle of the night covered in urine, worried about someone harpooning your asshole whale friends, it creeps people out.
I somehow stumbled on this when I was looking for shitty art examples. Bravo! That boner is fucking huge, thanks for calling that out. @wyland fan I have seen Wyland’s walls and they’re fucking shitty.