What is art again? (1 Viewer)

Not so fast, Mrs. G. :p

And let me bring James Joyce into the mix, as this is a writing and educational site....:D

Straight from Wikipedia (the earthen gospel created by man):

Lennon explained much of the song to Playboy in 1980:

"The first line was written on one acid trip one weekend. The second line was written on the next acid trip the next weekend, and it was filled in after I met Yoko. Part of it was putting down Hare Krishna. All these people were going on about Hare Krishna, Allen Ginsberg in particular. The reference to "Elementary penguin" is the elementary, naive attitude of going around chanting, "Hare Krishna", or putting all your faith in any one idol.


Some have speculated that the opening line, "I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together", is a parody of the opening line of "Marching to Pretoria", a folk song: "I'm with you and you're with me and we are all together."

The song also contains the exclamation goo goo g'joob with "koo koo g'joob" heard clearly in the second. Various hypotheses exist regarding the origin and meaning. One is that the phrase was derived from the similar "koo koo ka choo", to which it is often mondegreened,* in Simon and Garfunkel's Mrs. Robinson, written in 1967.

However, the film The Graduate, where "Mrs. Robinson" debuted, did not appear until December 1967, a month after "I Am the Walrus", and The Graduate Original Soundtrack (which contained only fragments of the final version of "Mrs Robinson") was not until January 1968.

James Joyce's Finnegans Wake contains the words googoo goosth at the top of page *557, where it appears:...like milk-juggles as if it was the wrake of the hapspurus or old Kong Gander O'Toole of the Mountains or his googoo goosth she seein, sliving off over the sawdust lobby out of the backroom, wan ter, that was everywans in turruns, in his honeymoon trim, holding up his fingerhals...

*mondegreened: now that's a fucking word, eh?

JL: RIP, my brother.

I thought it had something to do with Humpty Dumpty (the egg man) and his last words before the fall. which brings lewis carrol into the mix.

Lolita Twist

Not so fast, Mrs. G. :p
I.... can't even begin to disect that post as I normally would by ending the quotes at each paragraph and replying to that then continuing in that manner. That's just too fucking insane for me over "koo koo kachoo" and other sounds in acid-trip songs... haha. Regardless, that's all goddamn fascinating, non the less, that sounds in a song could mean so much.

* yes, that is some fucking word :s. Took me a minute to find it on dictionary.com, as the past tense isn't defined, just the main word:

mondegreen: a word or phrase resulting from a misinterpretation of a word or phrase that has been heard.

Ie: "koo koo kachoo" as in: The Beatles, "I Am The Walrus" [/kidding]


Founding member
Why can't it all mean nothing? Like a Doors song?

Simmer down - just joshing, you know.
Show me the way to the next whiskey bar! My calliope needs tuning! Har har.

Still kidding.


old and in the way
... like Hendrix and "'scuse me while I kiss this guy" or CCR with "there's a bathroom on the right."

It took me until I was an adult to figure out that "Mairsydotes and doesydotes and littlelamsydivy" actually meant something.

Lolita Twist

and Zeppelin, "ooh, satan, man" vs, "ooh, save me, man."

(Houses of the Holy)

Why can't it all mean nothing? Like a Doors song?
Because if it all means nothing then everything means something is nothing and nothing is something hare krishna hare hare krishna.
Why can't it all mean nothing?
Right, I HOPE it meant nothing.
If Lennon was acting the true artist, as I suspect, it was injected as a non-sequitur. So meaning, aswers, truth, keys, clues and solutions should not burden the Art effort - those lines combined with that music needn't be any more impactful. I'm better for having heard it and having known it. And THAT is what Art can do.


old and in the way
Simmer down - just joshing, you know.
Show me the way to the next whiskey bar! My calliope needs tuning! Har har.

That one is actually a Kurt Weill / Berthold Brecht song, from Threepenny Opera I think.

<edit> Correction, it's from Brecht and Weill's Hauspostille. </edit>
If I could offer an opinion after so many posts:

To me, art is an image, a sound, a smell, a word or a texture that elicits a response. It doesn't have to be good or bad. It simply has to be.

As a result, I have an opinion about art. I like good art, and I don't like bad art (except for Bad Art Ensemble, a Boston band that kicks ass, but I digress).

If art only consisted of what one prefers, the concept of good and bad would apply to everything but art. That would be absurd.

See? Now I've gone and rendered Camus into the non-art category. And he's in my top 5.

This discussion is absurd. But beneficial. See? Camus is back in the legitimate category again.
... like Hendrix and "'scuse me while I kiss this guy" or CCR with "there's a bathroom on the right."

It took me until I was an adult to figure out that "Mairsydotes and doesydotes and littlelamsydivy" actually meant something.

wrapped up like a douche
that was on jeopardy the other day (misheard lyrics catagory). i always wondered the lyric too. it's "deuce". which still makes no sense to me...
I saw a Bruce Springsteen interview several years ago where he said the original lyrics were "cut loose like a deuce", but Manfred Mann changed it to "revved up like a deuce".

Anyway, Springsteen said that a deuce was an old two-seat hotrod coupe.


Gerard K H Love

Appreciate your friends
that was on jeopardy the other day (misheard lyrics catagory). i always wondered the lyric too. it's "deuce". which still makes no sense to me...

Would that be deuce as in 2, like number 2, I have to go number 2? When do you wrap a number 2? drop a deuce. This is becoming a shitty thread.


If u don't know the poetry u don't know Bukowski
Founding member
Art schmart.
Whatever gets you thru the night.
It's alright.

From your avatar, I surmise you dig Edvard.

As for your avatar, some believed the 1894 masterpiece, Love and Pain - since known as Vampire - to be a reference to his illicit visits to prostitutes; others interpreted it as a macabre fantasy about the death of his fav sis.

Munch Cig.jpeg

I have posted one of my fav paintings by E, think cigarette...burning...

What say you?

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Every time I think I have a semi-intelligent contribution to this thread, it takes another turn and I re-consider my post. I realize now that I have no singular definition of what art is but if I dick around any further, I will never contribute anything....

Anyway, my first thought upon seeing this was recalling a high-school essay assigned by our Creative Writing teacher in our senior year. The class was only one semester, concentrating on short-story writing, with a HEAVY emphasis on J.D. Salinger's "Nine Stories". Our teacher was Tom Laird, who also wrote original fiction, and he was one of those "Dead Poets Society" types, forever pushing the boundaries, etc.. He was a chain smoker and legend had it that the administration assigned him his classroom location because it was directly across the hall from the boys restroom, where he ducked in for a quick puff between classes. In spite of his "rebel" image, this man had one of the very best-behaved classes in the entire high school because he was a commanding presence with something genuine to offer. We all could sense this and every day was like a performance. He would start with "For Esme - With Love And Squalor" and end up somewhere completely different. He was prone to "colorful language" and throwing things. Examples of originality were everywhere, he claimed, if we only knew how to tell the difference. And he certainly showed us the difference, citing television, books, etc..

But on our last day of class, he assigned a very simple essay: WHAT IS THE DEFINITION OF ART ? There were no requirements as to length, or anything. "If you can tell me in one sentence, or a hundred I don't care !" And to this day, I honestly think my response is the same as it was that day when my classmates and I were 17 years-old, confused, hopeful, and praying for the next smoke-break. That is to say, personal and defiant and not dependent on the approval of others.

In other words, the further away from your DNA it gets, the less artful it becomes.
Frida Khalo Slept Here Before She Fucked Diego Rivera

As Munchs go, I love this one...http://faculty.washington.edu/annkurth/images/sun.jpg

prophetic in so many ways.


Scrib, there are a few other MUNCH'S I dig.
But let's put that bacon back in the fridge.
I wanna cook another thought or two here.
There's enough fat in the world to go around, eh?


I'll probably catch some shit for this, but I never liked what I consider the "Lightbulb" piece you pixed. It's redundant. The colors, sure, magnificent. The texture, too. There are so many reasons to jump on the "wow" bandwagon. But it doesn't bleed for me.

It falls short. Compared to so many other pieces.

While the gas gauge may seem full to many, it's empty to me.

Van Gogh did similar shit. Experiments to move the needle and just get it done. And I don't like many of those, either.

To me, some are mere science projects; lab experiments that are now worth millions because of the limited number of originals.

Those who deeply study know. And I'm not talking about professors. But grunts like me who experiment daily (over a lifetime) to create. I know, I know, the books claim it is brilliant. Genius. Oh, my. Oh my. Man, those fuckers also killed Poe. Rejected him. Now those fuckers praise him. Teach him in class. Good to be erudite, eh? (To all my buds who are profs, published out the ass, tough shit; and it ain't a put-down, but you know me...)

The fucking truth is in the meaning behind each painting. It's there, hidden. If you ever get the chance, ask Pollock, de kooning, Basquiat, et al.

And take a gander at Frida Kahlo's paintings.

She wore a mask that she ripped the fuck open before, during and after her marriage.


The world will tell you about art.

About the politics of it.

About paying the rent.

About creating.

But fuck, who cares. (Yes, rhetorical.) It's all done for the greater good of humanity, right? Har Har, to quote the boss; someone who has probably seen and lived through as much of the bullshit as I have.

What's that? Hold on.

Make that a double Blue. No Ice. Bigger glass, please.

And get the guy next to me one; it's my boy, Dylan Thomas.

His glass is half empty. But we need to talk. About what makes art fulfilling.

What's that, Dylan, you're going into, "that good night?"

Well, kiss my grits. I may just join you.

For I can hear the helicopter blades swirling above, and The Doors on my stereo.

So good night to all...

For my rage against the dying of the light is temporarily on hold.

And Robbin William's isn't teaching me about poetry; in real life, or a movie.

That, I'm teaching myself, with every sip, slip, and splotch of paint.

Thanks, Jackson. You are still my mentor in spirit; and I hope you and Marley and Lennon are playing backgammon.

Blood is not red, but blue. It only turns red when oxygenated, I believe. Or when rich fuckers get a hold of it. So your poem may be safe. However, that does not assure it's quality. That, my twisted brother, is in the hands of your mind, mindscape, and imagination. So most likely, it is probably spot on...a valentine's day poem for the ages...why not post it here? You may get an opinion...:eek:
Wandering thru the forums
I find myself here the most
In the quest to learn what art is
I'm afraid it may be nothing more than this
my 100th post


Yes - rage against the dying of the light...

but also

"Burn and rave at close of day"

"Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight"

my personal DT's

Gerard K H Love

Appreciate your friends
If you think Johnny Walker Blue is the best scotch, then maybe you don't know scotch. It just tastes smokey.

A+ to number6horse. I think you are close as anyone on this one.
Art is probably the only thing about which EVERYONE should be in vehement disagreeance. Acceptence, embracings and concurrings are all just more enlistings. And all this enlisting and participation only results in a trip to Wal-Mart for underwear, sausage and shotgun shells. So heated discussions that involve Art are the only potent events. The more heated the better. It should be a blathering contest, complete with fisticuffs. Then later, when you're standing all alone in front of the Art again, yours or anyone elses, you'll find all your foes words tingling at the edges of your newest perception. Like it or not. Its the best thing we ants have to offer each other. So credit a smidgen of your enlightenment to your fellow man...maybe the one who popped you in the mouth during that discussion about Rauschenberg (and remember, lawsuits are for sissies).
the miracle

To work with an art form
does not mean to
screw off like a tapeworm
with his belly full,
nor does it justify grandeur
or greed, nor at all times
seriousness, but I would guess
that it calls upon the best men
at their best times,
and when they die
and something else does not,
we have seen the miracle of immortality:
men arrived as men,
departed as gods-
gods we knew were here,
gods that now let us go on
when all else says stop.

Charles Bukowski
The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over The Hills.
Yes - rage against the dying of the light...
but also
"Burn and rave at close of day"
"Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight"
my personal DT's
DT rocks the house. You can feel the paper move when you read his works.

I can understand why Bob borrowed his first name and made it his last.

A poet's poet.

I wood (sic/poetic) really like to hear some more from the boss on this topic, if he would oblige me. Carving music (and art) for thirty years gives a man unique perspective...

Nothing against people who haven't done it or lived that long. But creating that long either sharpens or dulls the blade. Perhaps both...

(It may disperse the silly: Winner moniker, etc. No offense to that post; but the shoe doesn't fit.)



Gerard K H Love

Appreciate your friends
Step back and look again

This whole thread started as a smart assed jab, I think. Now it has become a mushroom cloud of self serving chatter that has some nice points but really. Look at the very first post and most of it becomes quite funny even hilarious. As we all get so wrapped up in ourselves and while feeding our massive egos. Yeah, I think I'm a neat guy too.;):o

Do we all get to decide?

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