A green turd walks into a locker room…

Salvation is a helmet. – Vance Havner

Malas noticias (28 March 2020)

« Moi, je ne vois que trois bites, » says your friend Félix from his little box in the Zoom call. You are holding up Malas noticias, that week’s artwork of choice. You had seen snakes, which seemed comical enough. Dicks, though? That’s funny!

Three years later, it’s your boyfriend’s turn to interpret what he sees:

« Des grosses merdes qui se parlent ? »

Snakes are comical. Dicks are funny. But big turds? That’s hilarious! Especially since the interpretation is delivered in the form of a question whose potential answers can only be absurd. Here, let’s test it out:

Big turds talking to each other?

a) Yes, those are indeed big turds, but only the green one is talking.

b) No, those are actually dicks.

c) Really? Those things are clearly snakes.

See? Absurd. And thus hilarious.

Besides the laughter it elicits, what does this piece wish to communicate to you, the woman who painted it? To answer that question, I’m going to first posit that the turds are in a locker room. The orange and yellow ones are the players. The green one is the coach. From the title of the piece, we know that this coach is delivering bad news. What is this bad news, and why is the coach so pissed off about it? Why does the orange player look confused by it, while the yellow one seems joyously oblivious to it? What the hell is going on here?

The answer to these questions lies in another question, the one your shaman taught you to ask when interpreting your dreams: And if you are every character in the painting?

You are the green turd, then, and you are so pissed off. As the coach, you had designed a play in which you would be married until the end of your days. The play had failed, but that’s not what you’re pissed off about. What you are pissed off about is the fact that the play was flawed from the very beginning, that you knew it was flawed and yet insisted on executing anyway. Why did you do that? I don’t know why you did that. But you did. And it cost you a lot of time. Time you can’t get back. And you are so freakin pissed off at yourself about it!

Water stain for Malas noticias

You are also the orange turd, and you are confused. You are waiting for the coach to explain the next play, the one the team is going to execute in the game that’s happening right now outside on the field, but instead all he’s done is back you into a corner of the locker room to tell you some bad news. Yesterday’s bad news, mind you. What kind of coach is this green turd, anyway?

Finally, you are the yellow turd, and you appear joyously oblivious to what the green turd has to say. As you should! Why in the world would you listen to this stupid turd anyway? He thinks he’s the coach, but he’s just a dumb jock who has shown up late to the game without his helmet, and who’s backed everyone up in a corner of the locker room to fester and stink up the place.

I know you didn’t ask, but I’m going to give you my two cents anyway. If I were you and I had to choose between being any one of the turds in this locker room, I’d pick the little yellow one. That guy knows what the others do not, which is to say that only God is coach. Hence his joy. With God as coach, the team will be able to move skillfully forward up the field, past the blocking dummy the green turd embodies. With God as coach, the team will only ever be victorious.

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