I said I would so I did go to that group show featuring DickPix — penis shots of unknowing males solicited by female “anonymous artists interested in feminism and the internet” through faked OKCupid and Grindr profiles.

There was a tiled collage of (barely cropped, possibly recognizable) dicks aligned in angry rows (because dicks are horrible, angry weapons, obviously), interrupted with printed out quotes from the angriest comments these girls received when the project was announced, to the effect of “You’re not feminists” and “You are ugly whores go die from AIDS.”

If before, I was unhinged from their ethics doublespeak and malicious hypocrisy that this was somehow a feminist response to unsolicited “afront” of dick pics, now I’m bored as shit by their daft navel-gazing. Me me me me me look at me.

There was also a museum-style vinyl lines a foot around the wall of that Bushwick cellar, which I was loudly informed of with a “Please, don’t step over the line.”