Delivered in classic Hennesy tongue-in-cheek dead-pan, it’s full of wisdom and ha-has, and yes, this shit is mad long, but worth more than your average art crit seminar, I promise.

But fine, I’ll help: Hit 05:40 for throughtz on OWS, 06:30 for heavy thoughts on the Internet culture, and 9:00 for free art pieces that “reveal the performative nature of the ritual of the everyday” like Accidentally Text a Picture of Your Penis to Your Mother Instead of Your Girlfriend Piece or the Horizontal 1% in your Protest Sign that Says “Fuck the 1%” is Misconstrued as a Penis and Scrotum and you are Met With Ridicule Piece. 

This was originally performed at PERFORMA HA!, but check these ART THOUGHTZ: How to Be a Successful Black Artist, How to Make an Art and Relational Aesthetics (and how they’re like herpes).

The viddy comes via Brian “someguy” Singer — the gent who counted all the unicorns in the Bible and blacked out everything but “love” and “evil” in Catcher in the Rye, like a deep prophetic anti-SOPA gesture... but not really.

I know, I know, there there dear Neo-Luddites and other people who like flipping paper pages better than fingering glowing screens, but Ebooks are on the up and up, so… deal?

The classic, exhibited piece was essentially a live recorded performance that featured the apathetic heroine shuffling through cheap stock webcam effects to trance music, from dancing pizzas to electric snow to endless kitty. Title: VVEBCAM (you know, like VVORK?). Aha! As part of the work, the description of this video compendium of mindless yet compelling excess was stuffed with 733 keywords, like “tits, vagina, sex, nude, boobs” to “paris hilton, nfl” to “diego, jose, puto, taco bell, border patrol, mcdonalds, KFC, kentucky fried chicken, trans fat.”

Yes, really awfully offensive stuff. Hence, her video was flagged and censored. This just goes to show… Yeah, YouTube is a zeitgeisty and formidable platform for video art and its inherent old-internet jankyness is part of the charm that the arty, sophisticated Vimeo has none of, but… sometimes roaming, conceptually-daft robots go all wild flagging and yanking.

Oh, also the racist commenters. Fuck those.

Looks like an outtake of Trash Humpers, with CGI fire fingers. What does it mean? Some sort of metaphorical narrative, we gather. Proenza Schouler: It’s the Native American-ish kitsch-threads you wear when a wall-eyed, hick-accented Amuuurican is edging on fiddling you, young one!

Apparently, Tape Generations took six months to make. Not since the giant tape web of Vienna have I been so excited about office supplies.

Yes, it’s pretty much cows & cows & cows but at a higher dose and mechanically themed. It’s all very, very amusing until you see IRL polymeliac sheep and get sad.

This is the first of a series that “reflects on the foundations of democracy against the resilient nature of structures of power.” There’s also a sloth. Aw. Weird.

Can you see “Brigitte Bardot smoldering in Jean-Luc Godard’s Contempt“ or “the searing psychosexual interplay of Bibi Andersson and Liv Ullman in Ingmar Bergman’s Persona?” Yeah, whatever. Now if she can last longer than a 90 second short, she’ll be right back on track.

Renowned for his intentional pop-culture cheese and soft-porn surrealism, Richard Phillips beams about his star:

Lindsay has an incredible emotional and physical presence on screen that holds an existential vulnerability, while harnessing the power of the transcendental—the moment in transition. She is able to connect with us past all of our memory and projection, expressing our own inner eminence.

Yes, clap clap clap. More revealing (and clear) is this famous quote by Phillips:

My pictures involve a kind of wasted beauty – that’s always been a thread in my work.

See Richard Phillips’ Lindsay Lohan in “Commercial Break,” Group show presented by the Garage Center for Contemporary Culture, Jun 1 – Jun 5, Venice (Concurrent with Biennale di Venezia).

He has the New Museum’s blog cred now, so feel free to enjoy it as a piece of meta-textual art criticism. It’s awesome.

Japanese sound/video artist Ryoji Ikeda premiered his projection duo the transfinite last night, inside Park Avenue Armory’s giant, dark hall. I popped in just as MoMA PS1 dir. Klaus Biesenbach was ducking out, so here are some practical tips on enjoying this pulsating monster of an art installation… without name-checking Immanuel Kant and the “mathematical sublime” because I’m not fancy.

Past the lobby, enter the hall and see a wall and a quad-like area, shuddering with strobes in zebra-striped pattern. On the other side, patterns of binary numbers and all kinds of gorgeous code visualizations will stream. RULES:

1. Please do not pose next to the wall like a Midwestern tourist next to 30 Rock. Your “ta-da!” arms and “ooooh” grimaces are a little distracting.
2. This is not the place to practice your brand new interpretive dance routine. (True story.)
3. Use your inside voice for your high brow discussions or take it to the lobby and mouth-fart your intellectual pheromones over there.
4. Speaking of, everyone can see your PDA. Eyes do this weird thing where they adjust to low light and… Giggity.
5. Don’t do this unless you know what you’re doing, but that’s like, a general pro-tip for life.

In all seriousness, even the peripheral noise and occasional squeaking of children blend into the soundscape after awhile and really, if this looks like your thing, it’s worth it. Through June 11th. (Photos: Marina Galperina/ANIMAL) Videos from others: