Subj: I like submission.
Date: Fri, 11 Mar 2005 12:31:19 -0500
Ladies and Gentleman of the selection panel:
It is important to carefully weigh one's words when submitting an application for such a prestigious event. Unfortunately, I've just given up my cunningly devilish ruse early in the game, so there is little sense in continuing with the pointless pleasantries. So, let me tell you how it is. I want to be in the show. Well, not myself exactly. Albeit, if you paid me enough, I would stand there for a week with a little placard as though I were on display, but that's not the point. What I'm getting at is that, I, myself, don't really care either which way as to whether or not, I, myself, am in the show, but I would really appreciate if you included my letter writing in your fancy-shmancy repertoire of works or whatever it is that you people are compiling. I think you know where I'm going with this. We are all well-adjusted individuals. We are all on the same page. Now, with that stated, allow me to justify the inclusion of a collection of incoherent letters, emails and faxes into a show that is primarily digita and assumed to be high-tech. First of all, let me debunk any residual myths that may be building up in the moldy thought-pudding of your cranium about the cutting edge technology and revolutionary new ideas being contributed by those other applicants. It is blatantly clear that Nam June Paik, over the course of the past forty years, has already thought-out and created just about any possible submission you will be receiving for this silly little show. Therefore, most of my competition, these pedestrian no-name artists, trying to cut the edge, break new winds, sail the breeze, are just blindly setting themselves up for a life of ignorant imitation and venereal disease. Yes, I know all about them art-school bohemian types and their unsanitary promiscuity. That is beside the point. I am sorry. And you should be sorry as well. Sorry that you are receiving such repetitious and aimless work, pointlessly disseminating information through tried and tired mediums under the siren song moniker of "new media." Let's face it, I'm not saying that my letters aren't tired, repetitious, unoriginal, run-down little vehicles, aimlessly disseminating information; I am simply saying that everyone else's work is ultimately in league. So, on the basis of an honest comparison, you have to let my work slide in under the table with all the trite competition. It is only fair. And with my work in the show, what a happy little craft fair we will have. Of course, in our metaphorical craft fair, my work will obviously be the equivalent of the airbrushed tire-cover booth in the aisles of knickknacks, do-dads and cute little lacy things for the bathroom wall. It is hard not to be the odd one out with the clear lack of mindless flickering and fluttering in my bare little letters. Let us make no qualms about it, ultimately my submission is comprised of simple written texts. Friendly little written notes that have been emailed, faxed and mailed to the leaders, dignitaries and supposed intellectuals of the free and not-so-free world. Little forget-me-nots designed to slyly remind everyone and anyone that it is a small world after all. That everyone is now equally accessible. That everyone can and will be addressed with equal footing in the age of information. And no one is immune. And there is nothing that can be done to stop this. And yes, this is not remarkably new, but allow me to toot my own horn for a moment in saying that I flog a dead horse with utter craftsmanship and a keen personal style. That is much more than some of these other applicants can say for themselves. I know it. You know it. We all know it. Let's face it, I'm a shoe in. Please keep that in mind.