Phantom pains,–all kinds, chinamen, gringos, –all
sizes, big and small; from a slight pinch to a fat
cheney caught in the fly…(cheney is the polite way
of saying “dick”…)
But pain,dear friends, is the price for being alive.
In my case the urgency is tenfold since I’ve got to
get my hand back on the million dollar jobs.*
A friend from the past called me to complain that
Kinji is so wonderful–almost everybody loves him
except you Ben, and that you should gladly support him
being made “the Most Distinguished Artist” since it is a
title recognized by thousands of Minnesotans, and so
on.
I thought I don’t have to get down to the debate
level with anyone–I thought a true rebel is a law
unto himself, but still it is not like Ben to pass up the
chance for a good argue.
Thereupon I answered, Kinji I like, and Ari, I like,
too– as much as anyone else. Yes,they have thousands
of fans, I mean Kinj himself alone. However, I never mix up the personal
with the truth about art.
Even one hundred thousand maggots at it
does not make the feeding right!
Little did she expect the high voltage in a Benlau
tongue lash, for I believe I heard, or imagined hearing
some sobbing, silence, and the line was dead…
Well, the whole of Paris supported the Salon, but it
only took one Cezanne to run it into the dump!
Rimbaud said this:
“When shall we go, over there by the shores and
mountains, to salute the birth of new work, the new
wisdom, the flight of tyrants, and of demons, the end
of superstition, to adore…the first
ones!…Christmas on Earth?”
To which Ben adds the following:
Hurrah, Hurrah! The revolution is hah! (hah= here)
Follow the trail, follow the blaze!
Come what may, sing what may,…
Till our cattle have come to graze,
And lying on that lush pasture,
At all the stars we gaze!
Ben Lau
* The author has lost part of the function of his hand in a freak accident earlier this year.
Ben always refers to his art as million dollar job.