Sunday, September 17, 1995

A Clockwork Gallery Walk


ALEX and his DROOGS stride inside. Threatening Wendy/Walter Carlos synthesizer music.

ALEX: (VO) There was me, that is Alex, and me three droogs, Pete, Georgie and Dim. We were making our way down Palm Avenue for a bit of a gallery walk.

GALLERY OWNER: Hello, can I help you?

ALEX: Helpest me thou canst, O my brother.

DIM: He wants to help you! (giggles)

ALEX: Open me glazzies, brother. Show me art.

GALLERY OWNER: Well, we have plenty of art.

ALEX: I’ll be the judge of that, brother. Lead on. (stops) What’s this then?

GALLERY OWNER: Abstract art.

ALEX: Abstract it is, brother. Art it is not.

GALLERY OWNER: Who are you to …

ALEX: Evidence of the old glazzies. The form’s all wrong. The color comes out of a spraycan.

DIM: The cheese tastes like shit!

ALEX: Hush, Dim. (studies painting – then sees something next to it) Hang on … slovos I see, all in a row.

GALLERY OWNER: That’s the artist’s statement.

ALEX: Artist’s statement? (reads) Deconstruction this and society that. Oh! He mentions color. It’s a good painting, ‘cause he says it is? He’s telling me what to think, eh? I’m insulted.

GALLERY OWNER: You’re an art critic?

ALEX: No. An artist rather. Of destruction. (whips out knife, slashes painting)


ALEX: A malenky bit better.

GALLERY OWNER: How dare you!

ALEX: Teach this bastard some manners, droogies.

DROOGS kick the crap out of the GALLERY OWNER.

ALEX: Well, that’s it then. This is Alex DeLarge saying support the arts, O my brothers. But only if the art is good.

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