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Art is Dead

By phil villarreal
Arizona Daily Wildcat
April 1, 1999
Send comments to:
letters@wildcat.arizona.edu


[Picture]

Wildcat File Photo
Arizona Daily Wildcat


Starting today, University of Arizona officials will begin the systematic eradication of all forms of campus art.

The art annihilation is the result of a vast conspiracy which was sent into motion more than two years ago, several sources confirmed yesterday. The sources, which included the conspiracy ringleader, Tucsonan Sir Francis Icnarfris, revealed the following:

  • Effective today, all art on campus will be destroyed - preferably by fire.

  • Catalyst, the arts magazine of the Arizona Daily Wildcat, must cease production immediately.

  • All flame-retardant artwork will be shoved into the gigantic hole made by construction workers who were allegedly building the Integrated Instructional Facility (IIF).

  • The Arizona State Museum will be destroyed by a special blend of soft drink: "Acid Pepsi."

  • Centennial Hall, the Marroney Theatre, and Crowder Hall will be torn down, "kicked" to rubble by a specially-designed Nike swoosh-shaped wrecking ball.

Icnarfris, who until yesterday was known only as a crazy, homeless recluse who produced the comic strip "Beyond the Palindrome" for Catalyst, said that he had planned the conspiracy since 1974, when he was struck by a falling statue while walking in San Diego's Balboa Park.

Ever since then, he said he has "hated art with a passion." He became clinically insane, and years later gave up his son, Tony Carnevale, to the circus. Icnarfris swore that he would one day destroy all art in the nation, beginning with that of whatever college campus his son chose.

Carnevale, of course spurned the carnie lifestyle and chose the UA. He matriculated to Arizona in the Fall of 1996, and began writing for the UA arts magazine. It was then that Icnarfris put his plan into motion:

  • He needed a gigantic hole in the UA campus, one big enough to fit all of the art into. Icnarfris lobbied for construction for the underground IIF building in 1996, defeating an alternative plan to build a new student union. The regents were suckered into it.

  • He needed the manpower to destroy all UA art - and who better to do the job than the UA itself? To accomplish this daunting task, he recruited two corporations to contract huge sums of money to the UA - Nike and Pepsi. Icnarfris had the corporations insert small-print clauses in the contracts that bound the UA to destroy its own art. Blinded by dollar signs, the UA ignored the clauses and lapped up the money like a thirsty puppy.

  • In late 1998, he successfully lobbied for a new student union. He did this because it would necessitate destruction of Gallagher Theatre. If students didn't mind losing their sacred cheap movie theater, they wouldn't mind as much when other buildings were torn down.

The President's take

The conspiracy was denied by the University's top executive.

UA President Peter Likins called a press conference to deny rumors that his association with Nike and Pepsi led to the current slaughter of campus art.

The only one to attend the press conference was a Wildcat student reporter. The Arizona Daily Star and Tucson Citizen instead chose to cover a local building dedication. Tucson Weekly writers were reportedly busy writing up a new sex survey.

None of the three local television stations attended the press conference either, since everyone knows all they do is follow the print reporters around anyway. The NBC and ABC affiliates chose to use the story of Tombstone's famous weather-predicting duck as their lead story on last night's 10 p.m. news broadcasts. It was unknown what CBS chose as a lead story, because no one watches that network.

Apparently miffed by the lack of concern from the local media, Likins did not appear to be his normal self. He began the press conference with a rambling, incoherent ad pitch promoting the health benefits of Nike and Pepsi. He then addressed the conspiracy rumors.

"All that don't mean nothing, dog," said UA president Likins, who was inexplicably dressed up in a Nike jumpsuit and talking like rapper Snoop Doggy Dogg. "And if I see any of that in print, I'll hafta put the smack down."

Likins was adamant in his belief that the conspiracy was false, even as some masked figures uprooted a blue metal statue 100 yards away.

When asked what he would do to prevent such articide if the conspiracy turned out to be real, Likins went on to say that he would personally "bitch-slap" anyone who tried to "regulate" with the campus art.

As the figures carted the statue toward the IIF hole, Likins laughed. "I didn't like that statue anyway," he said.

Before Likins ended the press conference, he gave another plug for one of the products that he endorses.

"This Dr. Slice is dope," he said with a smile.

Student government strikes back

Upon learning of the conspiracy, ASUA president Tara Taylor called an emergency senate session. The meeting'a agenda was to do what was in ASUA's power to nullify the contracts.

After a three-hour meeting involving heated debates from the student body's best, brightest, and most powerless, the ASUA senate passed a resolution, which read like this:

"Hereby, the Associated Students of the University of Arizona recognizes the problem presented by a possible conspiracy to eradicate all forms of art on campus.

"In accordance with the wishes of our constituents - all four UA students that voted - we must act in the best interest of the student population. Therefore, ASUA proclaims that Leigh-Anne Brown's cartoon "Deranged Family Circus" in the March 26 edition of the Arizona Daily Wildcat, because of its favorable depictions of bulimia, is detrimental to our campus society. ASUA has decided to strike the comic down."

After the session, ASUA elected to throw a "victory party" with UA funds.

With the elimination of all campus art now inevitable, Icnarfris was able to gloat.

In his apartment, where Icnarfris granted an interview request, he sat back on his recliner and rested. He glanced at a blank, picture-free white wall and smiled.

"Finally, we'll live in an art-free campus. That's the first step toward an art-free world," said Icnarfris, who then caressed the 25-year-old welt on the back of his neck. "A world in which a man can be safe from falling statues."