Pollock, Rothko, De Kooning, Warhol, I hate them all. Perhaps I don't get their work. But it doesn't say anything to me. A lot of modern art is critics and the artist explaining what their work supposedly means. I'm inclined to believe a lot of what's said is puffed up bullshit. Constructivism, I get. Cubism, sure. Dada, yeah. Some that was pretty dumb, but I at least see where they were coming from. But a lot of the stuff from the fifties forward seems to me to be a case of the emperor having no clothes. I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to be seeing in a Pollock? I'm not saying there wasn't technique to his work that couldn't be reproduced by any alley dwelling drunk, but what's the content? How exactly am I supposed to interpret it without having him or some puffed up, jargon spewing critic take me by the hand and tell me what everything supposedly means. So called art completely removed from the context of history is of little use to me. How do you know he wasn't completely talking out of his ass? Besides, he was an asshole. Fucker killed himself and two women driving drunk. Selfish prick. I won't completely separate the artist and the art. Sue me. I can't listen to Wagner without thinking about what a bastard he was, either. More than the individual works themselves, what I hate about modern art is all the bullshit they've injected into the popular imagination and critical discourse. This idea of the artist, this cliché of the stuck up, chain-smoking bastard in all black with the weird hair cut, somehow defining reality with fingerpaint on a dead crow nailed to a board. Pieces that say nothing to almost everyone that sell for millions of dollars. It's all a complete turn off. Is a little bit of populism in the arts such a bad thing? Maybe it would be easier to fund the arts if most people weren't led to believe that they're utter nonsense.