Blind Artist Excessively Praised for Crappy Paintings

NEW YORK - Unwarranted commendation and excessive praise were the prevailing sentiments earlier this week when "accomplished" blind painter Jennifer Arland unveiled her collection of undeniably shitty art, I was forced to report on today.

The exhibit, which features what I assume are twenty-two of the artist's least horrible works, was covered by me, as something to do during my two-week suspension from the editorial staff.

"I am so happy to be able to stand here today having truly accomplished one of my dreams," said Arland, gesturing somewhere in the general direction of a remarkably terrible oil-on-canvas pile of crap. She added, "I'm so glad that even though I have a disability, people still want to look at my stupid paintings, blah blah blah," or something like that.

Among the pieces on display were Arland's Reflections on Lake Okafee I & II, two works that seriously look nothing like anything you'd see at a lake. And this wasn't like some kind of modern art thing where she wasn't going for realism. You could tell she was trying... but her eyes don't work. You know, there's a reason they call them visual arts, sweetie.

"Are those mountains? I guess that's what they're supposed to be," I asked when I saw Reflections on Lake Okafee II. "I mean, granted she's probably never seen a mountain. Or a picture of a mountain. But Jesus."

"Goddammit, I hate this job," I added.

According to some punk copy editor and the AP Style Guide I am supposedly missing some commas somewhere in the above paragraphs. In a related story, the AP Style Guide can go screw itself.

Also, my editor can kiss my ass if he expects me to write any more of this "real news" bullshit. "I think it's obvious that my strength as a writer is in writing editorials," I was heard to say last week. "And suspending me for 'objectionable language?' Blow me."

In other news, certain coworkers of mine, who are clearly overstepping their bounds given their up to ELEVEN FEWER MONTHS EXPERIENCE THAN ME, JOHN KEEGAN I'M LOOKING AT YOU, YOU PRICK, have decided to point out that I should be using a more objective tone and staying in the third person for this type of story. Updates regarding the whereabouts of Keegan's Palm Pilot that I stole and hid in the break room will be reported as they are made available.

It is hoped that in lieu of any more of these bullshit human interest stories, I will return to writing my weekly column as early as next week, because I swear to God I'll quit if I have to do this again.

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