My name is Clerpeez G'wannaway, and I am a very boring middle-class middle of the road professional British intellectual Art curator and critic with a job talking bollox and pretending anything I do is remotely relevant to anyone but me and the local council subsidized and supported token artistic luvvies here in our bubble thinking up ways of generating free publicity for ourselves and our vanity art projects.
That have nowt to do with working-class people but pretend they do in order to promote a moronic notion that the working-class people of Manchester actually know and give two hoots about the (non-existent) cultural impact of pre-Raphaelite paintings of nymphs and nereids on the working-class youth of Britain and England, particularity urban South Lancashire, home of drug-gangs, sex and executions in broad daylight, with slappers (of both sexes) galore bang at it getting off their nuts on drugs and alcohol every weekend and engaging in the great Lancastrian youth pastime of drink and drug-fueled casual sex with strangers, Shameless, rough-arse plain speech, and that great down to earth Lancastrian humor that I do not share as some blow-in outsider who always wanted to be on telly talking bollox about Art.
And as the years went by and I copped on I was not gonna be called to bravely serve the BBC version of the British nation as its first Official Art Culture sanctioned female Visual Art critic that could fuck out of it the pompous and snooty patronizing bore Brian Sewell and his royal ass kissing status-quo collegiate patriarchal old school wannabe aristocratic toadies - hence this right on PC media stunt of cynically crassly and boorishly appropriating the very real and disturbing problem of sexual violence against women, and lumpishly equating the gravity of it with two hundred year old paintings inspired by tropes from Classical Antiquity.
Thereby revealing how much of a one-dimensional intellectual light-weight, cultural vulgarian and inartistic philistine I am, willing to ruthlessly exploit and use my gender for personal advancement under the guise of being a thoughtful and concerned feminist, and all enacted in furtherance of getting the ball on one's personal career goal rolling, and which will hopefully start by increasing the amount of my followers on Twitter from its current number of 127.
If I was American I would be talking about smashing up statues of Abraham Lincoln. This has nothing to do with any public conversation and everything to do with me Clerpeez G'wannaway frustrated with the crusty patriarchal state of English dinosaur art criticism that needs clearing out of the patronizing old school arse-grabbing posho Oxbreligious public schoolboy fossils talking utter bollox about Kings and Queens in that theatrical lahvy yaamy plaamy voice of those who benefit from the unspoken but very real affirmative-action policies in place across the UK art world with women not getting a look in at the top and anyone not a royalist toady aint getting a foot in the door. Across all art forms from visual to linguistic.
Have a lovely jolly day. I am so desperate. Forced smiley. Isn't it all so verrih lahvly dahling.