A couple of activists tossed a can of tomato soup at a Van Gogh painting. This is proof that the arc of history doesn't always bend towards progress. The pair were almost onto something. But as everyone knows, you're supposed to throw a tomato at the artist, not a soup can at the art. Like a game of telephone, it was a matter of generational miscommunication.
I try not to judge strangers too harshly. But in the case of these angry critics, I have to draw the line at matching clothing. You should never wear the same shirt as your friend, unless you both work at an Applebee's. But at least then, your embroidered name tag will mark a clear distinction. However, the fruit in the restaurant's logo is an apple, not a tomato.
Thinking the same is one thing, but dressing the same? And at their age? That's totally unacceptable. You need your own revolutionary style, comrade. Maybe a Nehru jacket and a Mao suit.
What I appreciate about the dimwitted duo is their choice in soup. They knew enough to steer clear of clear liquids. Because activism, like soup, is all about substance. And you won't get anywhere with a salty bouillon cube.
The thing is, oil paintings are soft targets for the oil averse. Why not attack pizza parlors and pork stores lined with bottles of extra virgin olive oil? I'll tell you why. They're afraid of a certain Italian-American subculture.
Caught in the crossfire is Van Gogh himself. This is man who took global dependency on oil seriously. He went farther than most to cut out his personal contribution. What do think ear wax is?
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