Duchamptism

A year after the outbreak of the second pandemic, my heart felt very aggrieved. First, it was the Covid of 2020, then it was that of 2025 strangely predicted by the Portuguese philosopher José Saramago... A collective uncertainty seized our spirits, and it was at that moment that I decided to become an anchorite, moving to the mountains of Maine and away from social dynamics. There was a deep disdain in me after hearing the origin of the blindness pandemic which originated in the city of Fresno California. A group of university students were experimenting with synthetic drugs derived from mercury.

I brought to last for a period of four years and as many seeds as I could. I have always been characterized by my understanding of the arts in agriculture. I also brought some clothes, 13 bottles of wine, a corkscrew, 17 books, flashlights, batteries, and two printed images that I found in google before it was suspended globally. I wanted to print more but the ink from the printers would have to become a commodity since in those days the search engine deadline had already been announced, because the government would have forced most industries to use all their technologies in the search for a cure for blindness. There was a demand unprecedented for ink, people were aware that they had to remain in quarantine and rushed to print images of all kinds. The collective logic was that if they were surprised by the virus of blindness, they would already be satiated by images, they printed photos of their dogs, their relatives, movie stars, singers, and countless selfies that had accumulated throughout their lives. I only had enough ink in the cartridge for two images and making the decision took me a few nights of vigil, but finally, I printed on a sheet a mosaic from the collection "the abu ghraib" of the painter Fernando Botero, to remember the harassment and torture of the days of blindness and the other image was that of the painter Charles Robert Leslie, "The Locket" in that it would help me to remember the value of sight.

I had an intrinsic motivation for loneliness, and I am almost certain that Henry David Thoreau had suggested my decision to move to the mountains. When I started my anabasis, I was clear about the risk of living in solitude that I could become either "a God or an animal, "as Aristotle said it. The first two winters I had the idea of giving up my enterprise of living in isolation, but the third I already had the skill to keep warm during the cold. I was acquiring a good number of rituals to untie myself to the notion of time and to give transcendence to the days that were preceded by others, my soliloquies took place when dawn was breaking, then I sang songs to the plants and on a full moon I used to fast, at noon I climbed a tree to sunbathe, every two days I allowed myself to eat the tree sap, and daily after my vegetable lunch I re-studied each line of the two images I had you with me. The fourth autumn when the scarlet leaves bare the trees, I had already finished my provisions and I knew that it was the moment of my descent, or rather of my catabasis. I uncovered my car from the plastic that hid it, and when I got to the highway, I saw a massive traffic jam, my smile was inevitable, although I was disturbed by the cacophony of the speed of the cars, I understood that it was part of a living conditioning that some moment I would have to get used to it. Upon reaching the first town, Montpelier, if I remember correctly, I saw a man with purple hair walking, I got out of the car very enthusiastic, I asked him about the pandemic and I would soon find out that the vaccine had been developed in the summer of last year. I rushed to hug him and he, although confused, also hugged me. I drove on the way to Boston and turned on my old music player. The first piece that sounded was Suite No. 1 in G minor by Bach, I had to pull my vehicle over because my tears came out without asking me, minutes later I was able to hit the road again, when I arrived in the city, I took the image of Robert Leslie and pasted it on the passenger's window as a flag to overcome blindness. A policeman turned on lights and I edged around, lowered the window, and greeted the policeman with great enthusiasm.

- Do you know why we stopped you?

-Not official

-There is a pre-pandemic image on your window.

-I do not understand.

-Now you have committed the second crime! We will get you arrested

- What? This is ridiculous.

He handcuffed me and sat me in the back seat, but what would have surprised me the most is that he was alone. Once at the police station he blindfolded me and took me to a cold place for crimes of anachronism, a few hours later I asked:

-Anyone there?

- Yes, here we are! -answered a man - Who are you?

- I am Bellerophon

- Don't say that, you'll get us in trouble. - The man answered.

- I don't understand what I've done?

- You keep doing it.

I was silent with a thousand doubts in my head, after two days I think, the guard took me out of the room and uncovered my eyes, and told me that it was a lesson to remember the pre-pandemic times. I decided not to say anything so as not to make any mistakes in those confusing moments. I remembered the words of my philosophy professor Josef when he told me that if he wanted to understand a society, go to their museums. Thus, I went to the new post-pandemic museum in Boston.

- "We are happy that you visit us, today there is a special performance." - Said the ticket seller.

I went into a dark room and the lights were turned on, a slim woman came out and vomited in front of everyone, people quickly clapped and there was a collective euphoria. I was stunned and left immediately, I entered the sculpture room where there was a large sculpture by Marcel Duchamp with what appeared to be diarrhea all over his bust and one of his phrases “Anything is art if an artist says it is. " I took a few more steps and there was a sculpture of a woman in a red dress, it made me curious, and I read "This dress is painted with our period." And under it, there was a table with a rather incomprehensible metalanguage and an extensive description of that sculpture magnifying the rights of women, and next to it, Gabriel Orozco's shoebox with the tripartite explanation.

I did not want to continue rambling in that room, I left in a hurry and entered what was called "objet trouvé" there I saw an old man of approximately 60 years with a cap backwards and headphones resting on his neck.

- We see you disturbed boy! The old man who was looking at the collection of used condoms told me.

- Why does everyone speak in the plural, sir? What is happening?

- Where have you been boy? - He smiled - Have you not heard that we have already exhausted the singular pronoun? We lived in a collective narcissism, hyper-individual society, and suicide tended to be the new pandemic, therefore, the cancellation ministry decided to remove the individual archetype, some controls had to be imposed, such as removing mirrors from gyms, ban selfies, unify the 32 and a half pronouns, among others, mentioning them would lead to crimes of anachronism.

We understand - I said massaging my neck - now explain to us ... why is there pop music as a background in the museum?

Silence is a characteristic of individuality, and it also leads to contemplation and draws the individual from the collective. Silence locks people out of their thoughts and after the pandemic we were diagnosed with algophobia - The man said while studying the sculpture of chewed gum. - We will explain to you boy, this music is addictive and quick to elaborate, we have the characteristic of getting bored quickly, and the industry produces us a lot of music with collected data and psychological patterns, it leads the human being to a more active life, it helps us to be more productive.

-And where is the music that reflects the sublimity and beauty?

-Huh! Beauty is subjective. Don't you know that we are the measure of everything? Besides, who are you to judge what kind of music should be played here? The cancellation ministry will destroy you if it listens to your uncomplacent questions.

-Our purpose was not to offend - I said - we just wanted to contextualize ourselves!

Come on boy, we will show you the great unifying art of our culture!

We walked through an empty room that later I would find out that there were the invisible works of Salvatore Garau, and we came to another with a can in the middle and he told me:

Behold- and pointed can. - the great art of Piero Manzoni, the can of shit… this is the liberation of all concepts and shows us that we can all be artists. "Man is condemned to be free." He said quoting Jean-Paul Sartre.

-Wow! Your concept of art is eschatological?

-We are thought so!

-That is not art! this is the empire of mediocrity; art is a product of human intelligence and excellence.

Excellence is no longer a virtue but the vice of standing out from the other, we have replaced it with extravagance. Art must be democratic, and art is everything that the market ... We mean the artist considers art. You sound very elitist and that is a hate crime and anachronism. - Said the man very agitated.

-Listen, we're sorry! - I said a bit embarrassed - help us find a specific painting – I said trying to avoid the debate- that some years ago after the Scottish museum fire was brought to Boston, it's called "The locket"

-I know what you're talking about - said the good man - follow us.

We came to a room with a heart in the middle, and he said:

-Behold! We have arrived at Jeff Koons' hall.

There was a giant heart in the middle.

-We don't understand what this has to do with the painting I mentioned! - I said confused.

-You’ll see, you described a locket, and this is Hanging Heart by Jeff Koons - he said as he took from his chest a replica of the heart-shaped locket. - and we thought you were mentioning this one that we all have as a cultural symbol, well, this is the original sculpture! it's smooth, polished, and only deserves one sentence "we like it." We are all pleased, you see boy!

-Noo! -I said - I was talking about a painting and not an empty sculpture! I was talking about the representation of contemplation, the one that stops the time, the one that inspire us without the chains of the market.

-Hold on! This is unacceptable, you started talking in the forbidden pronoun… -said the man tremulously- What makes you believe that you can condemn the concepts of art and hierarchize the emptiness of the transcendent? By the power that the ministry confers on us, you must accept ostracism after those words that you just blurted out.

-I happily accept it.