In 1917, an artist by the name of Marcel Duchamp was on the way to the opening of a major gallery showing of his work. It was the last minute and he needed one more piece to complete it. He passed a construction site where an old urinal had just been torn out of a building. He picked it up, scrawled his name on the side, turned it sidways, called it "Fountain", and without even bothering to clean it, he added it to his show.
That urinal is now worth about 3 million euros (3.5 million US dollars) and has been exhibited all over the world.
It was just attacked by a 77-year-old man wielding a hammer. For the second time.
Now it's been withdrawn from public view temporarily while a team of expert art historians repairs the chip in the white ceramic.
And knowing Duchamp, he's probably highly pleased by this turn of events and is laughing like he** in his grave.
I once had to write an essay on Marcel Duchamp's story in an art history class, from a highly esteemed Ph.D. professor, at a college charging more than 25k a year tuition.
It seems social manipulation on the grandest scale is a form of high art.
And this is the profession I've dedicated my life to.
Excuse me while I go beat my head against a cement wall.