Underwear

Do you think it matters what's under our neath, in the vast scheme of things I mean?

The obvious answer is yes, but in this day and age, is it really true any more?

It's not the part of us that people perceive except through cracks in our coverings, glimpses through dusty windows, misinterpreted clues bordering on hallucination.

Do you think what is underneath matters to people in the public eye, modern celebrity, your boss, most of your friends, or anybody into fashion or presentation? 

Do think it matters to those who teach you how to "be better" - you know, those performance trainers or counsellors who label themselves experts on humanity and yet who might just as easily have waffles and cream cakes for breakfast and drive at 50 in the fast lane? 

It seems to me that a lot of these people who are claiming to represent the human condition are really advising on presenting facade. They're looking to teach covers for what's underneath. Their version of real, is quite uninformed, pretendy, fake.

I can't ask counsellors to be honest about that because they don't realise it.

I'd need to ask them to realise it then be honest about it. I think that's too big a leap for them. It's back-to-school territory. They'll balk.

And who are people like that to mess around with what's underneath? Save us from the entry-level psychologists.. wasn't there a time when they just went to be extras and page 3 models?

Why would things be underneath if they really mattered? What sort of art is that? 

But of course art is the purest facade of all. Denied of course by the interpretive and interpreted nonsense that marble-mouthed connoisseurs spout. But there you are... that's their facade.

Show me a desk with a secret drawer, a room with a a secret chamber, and I'll show you art that engages with what's underneath. 

Why else would we have chambers that are a little bit buried, a little bit hidden, a little bit unTwitterable, unutterable, a little bit private, not for sale, not for correction?

You can sugarcoat dog shit and stick it on a Christmas tree and sometimes it's the salt that sells the peanut.

Actually strike out the other lines... I think that's what I was trying to get at all along.