August 5, 2020 By Joseph P. Farrell

As you might have guessed, the world of "art" was for some reason one of the themes that emerged in this week's "in box". That's a bit unusual, because as most of the readership of this site is aware, I select articles to blog about from the mass of articles that people send me. In that sense, I suppose, this is a "community-driven" website, because even though I'm the one doing the "selecting",  I do try to pay attention to the trends in the stories that people send. Why am I telling you all this? Because this past week, besides the "new normal" of stories dealing with the covid virus planscamdemic, there were, oddly, stories about art in one form or another. They stuck out like a sore thumb, and that's why I've been blogging about them, because apparently they stuck out like a sore thumb to the people who spotted and sent them.

That's especially true of this story which is about both the planscamdemic and art, which was shared with me by none other than Dr. Mark Skidmore, whom followers of this website or of Catherine Austin Fitts' website will recognize as the university professor who has tracked and documented all that missing money in the government and published the results of his research in places like Forbes magazine. So, thanks to Dr. Skidmore for spotting and passing this one along, because there's something in this article that hit me like a body blow to the solar plexus; it's a short offering from Zero Hedge, and it takes a while for its "whopperdooziness" to sink in:

A Third Of US Museums "Not Confident" They Will Survive

The central premise of the short article is straightforward enough: most museums survive on sales, tickets, and so on, and not on government grants. Because of that, many museums may not survive as their sales are down because of the Fauci-Lieber-Wuhan planscamdemic. After all, who wants to pay money to wander around a museum with a feeder bag on their face, looking at Jackson Pollock messterpieces, right? Of course, I'm one of those who under no circumstances would ever pay money to see, much less own, a Jackson Pollock, even if it came with feederbag included. It does, however, raise the question of why the feederbag would be included, and I'm thinking along the lines of those paper bags in airline seats, but I digress.

Back to the article: after outlining the problems that the planscamdemic has created for museums, at the end of this article comes the following sentence:

To sum up, the great museum bust is dead ahead. Does that mean cheap art is about the hit auction houses and reverse lofty prices? (Emphasis in the original)

That was the body blow to my solar plexus, for once we get to the point that we acknowledge (1) the virus is real, and does kill, and (2) the dangers and numbers are inflated way out of proportion to the actual deaths, and (3) that it is the magic virus designed in conjunction with a media marketing campaign to induce behavior and policy changes and that (4) the whole thing is a planscamdemic designed to accomplish various objectives, then why not "cheap art" as one of the objectives?

That may sound like a tall order, and that my high octane speculation is  way off the end of the speculation twig here, but in this case, it's not my speculation.

The body blow did its job. I had visions of some busybody billionaire, a squat, short, saggingly plump figure with Hermann Goeringesque designs on all the museums of western civilization busily gobbling up all the Rubens, Rembrandts, Caravaggios, and so on that he could, and stashing them away in some Karinhall-like mansion in New York, another nifty way to cut people off from their heritage and tradition, in addition to the time-tested methods of statue toppling and book-and-cathedral burning. In short, it niftily "fits" the cultural desecration unfolding around us.

A pleasant thought then intruded: what, I thought, would that boulder - yes, boulder - that the Los Angeles Museum of Modern Art paid millions of dollars for, net on the art auction market?  I imagined the scene at the mansion of some Sillycon Valley millionaire, proudly displaying the rock. "Do you like it? It is the rock from the Museum of Modern Art in Los Angeles. The very rock! Right here in my very own garden!" "Uhm, if you'll excuse me, ma'am," I reply, "I think I need to take a nature break."  Perhaps, I mused, this would be a way to remove all those Jackson Pollock messterpieces and other modernist eyesores from view? "There might be an upside to all of this," I fantasized as I eased my way around the rock and away from the rock-adoring countenance of my hostess. Call me a throwback, but I'd much rather look at paintings of dogs playing poker, and those paintings are a lot less expensive than LA's rock.

But then, my fantasies dissolved, because the reality is, that if Zero Hedge's speculation does occur, we know that those plump busybody billionaires are not going to be spending their money on rocks or messterpieces or the complete unpublished collaborations of Gertrude Stein and James Joyce. After all, they're the ones who largely helped create and currently fund the trashy anti-culture. Their Hermann Goeringesque appetites would prevail, and that's all they'd leave us with:

the Trash.

See you on the flip side...