i keenly dislike reality shows. they seem downright mean, are sanctimonious, arrogant, self-centred. not to mention they take themselves much too seriously.

however some facebook-ish friend posted a surrealistic, at least to me, photo that led mostly to the following:

'but if someone made a surrealist reality show i would watch. the challenges would be staying within the lines while colouring, explaining their work and meaning and where the hell did that idea come from.  and writers must write a story with correct grammar, a proper story line and a definite beginning and definite ending. i disqualify myself. dead surrealists are welcome. the short list is dali, man ray, miro, klee, anyone who is aware of dada, and many more who join as i forget their names. maybe Canada’s entire government. 


these rules are lifted as we find surrealists suck at reality. no matter.
 
the reality show is a boring success and everyone quits, believing failure to be much more interesting. each are then offered their own programs on different networks. in the first progam, they simultaneously read a surrealist manifesto which contains statements like don't bother frogs, dams should only be built by beavers and life is a lot like ostrich eggs. they scat the rest of the manifesto.
 
they call for a reunion of the kids in the hall offering them plum political positions to which they have no access. they state in falsetto unison, irrelevancy is irrelevant. they do not issue any statement but support a tv channel devoted to the naked gun. the frantics, SCTV , the prisoner and at least 4 hours of canadian made white noise that should play in all public places. newscasts will be replaced with work from kindergarten children. this is the last time they appear on tv.

except salvidor who becomes a regular on game shows, on which he says things like 'each morning when I awake, I experience again a supreme pleasure - that of being Salvador Dali.'
 


he is frequently mistaken for the riddler on the batman series and in fact does a guest show in which he plays the riddler’s father. he is shot several times but only bruised. all the signs that usually say wham and blammo during fight sequences are painted 'lucinda williams (oh la la)', even though her popularity is about 30 years in the future.

later in dali’s life his moustache falls off as he grows younger and begins using heroin as habit and resume filler. in his final years, he becomes a wal-mart greeter. he warmly hugs costumers saying don't feed grapes to an aardvark, or do not believe anything i’ve said unless i've said i've said it or painted it, then you can be sure it's true. he whispers nothing is on sale. he is too much for job, and is fired and then offered a seat in parliament (more details later). he schedules his death in perhaps may 2009, though dr's are not willing to give an eta on when his dna will be sol. 

he hangs around. his broken heart begins to repair itself. miraculously, dali sees the opening ceremonies of vancouver’s olympics but laughs so hard when the gigantic hockey stick wouldn't raise he passes to another level of deliberate randominity.

more on his political life and the harper encounter to come…i think… 

 


10/17/2013 1:30am

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