-Why do you bother wearing clothes? I asked my assistant
-How would I be fashionable without clothing? he said
-How would you be fashion without clothing? I corrected
-How would I be fashion without clothing? he said
-Fashion is inside where your heart used to be, I told him. Do you still have your heart?
He tried to look shocked at the mere suggestion that he still had his heart and hadn't sold it for a piece of couture, or a drink at a hip bar in Paris.
-Of course not! he said. How could I store fashion (he pointed to his heart) there, if I still had a heart?
-How would you still be alive, my dear boy? I said
-With...with the power of fashion? he said.
-Fashion does not power you, I said. Power fashions you.
-You are so wise! he said. I could hear his little heart ticking away at an accelerated pace. I could smell the blood pumping through it.
-Poland fashions you! I said
-Poland fashions me?
-Fashion you Poland! I said
The assistant looked confused. I had another assistant cut his heart out, with a silver pair of scissors designed by Tadao Ando. His little heart continued to beat as it sat on a silver platter with "Chanel" engraved on it.
-Oh, dear, I said
-Oh dearie me, said the other assistant
-His heart is far too red
-Far too fleshy, said the other assistant
-Far too...meaty said Cathy Horyn.
-Lost cause, said nobody in particular.
This is the thing with the Magnum. It is an object of beauty. It must not be consumed, of course. Does one consume a Van Gogh or a plate of caviar? Of course not. Both the painting and plate of caviar sit there to be admired, as a challenge.
"I must not eat the Van Gogh", a lady in her nightgown might say to herself, as she wanders off to be- tempted as she is to eat it.
The Magnum functions on the same level. It is to be place with the Van Gogh and the caviar, as a kind of democratic challenge to every person who passes it. The fattie will eat it right away, as will anybody who is uneducated. I do not mean in the sense of someone who has not been to university. I did not go to university, and I am the greatest person on this planet at the moment. I have met plenty of sniveling little youths who come to my door and plead for an internship.
-Oh, please Karl! This is the job a million girls would kill for! I have a degree in ethnoeuropean social sciences involving the chronology of western counterpoint, specifically in relation to how Russian composers effect Russia's economy!
What I mean by educated is dressing well. If one does not dress well, nobody will bother hiring you. Nobody will want to look at you, because you are an eyesore. And how can one deal with people if they are dressing terribly? Here is a good thesis, for all the students who read this web-blog: How does bad dressing effect a nation's economy? The answer, of course, is 42.
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