In this 5‑minute YouTube monologue, the primary speaker (Speaker A) launches a sarcastic, irreverent rant about modern and contemporary art, mocking the high auction prices of seemingly trivial works. He opens with a personal anecdote about Saturday school, then pivots to criticize the art market, citing a rock sold for $10 million, a piece of wood titled “Untitled” sold for thousands, and a 1900s painting he claims could be reproduced in Microsoft Paint in seconds. He repeatedly emphasizes how absurd he finds the valuations, describing the works as “ugly as crap” and likening the experience to watching porn. While largely dismissive, he concedes that a few high‑priced pieces (e.g., a $40 million work) have aesthetic merit that he can understand. He ends with a tongue‑in‑cheek plan to sell his own rock for a few million dollars. A brief second speaker (Speaker B) interjects with an unrelated, nonsensical line about “balls” and a ticking clock, serving as a comedic non‑sequitur. The overall tone is informal, comedic, and highly critical, with occasional ambivalence toward select artworks.
Chapters
I don't know how your school does things, but where I go to school, if you get in trouble a lot, you have Saturday school. And being the rebellious and edgy kid I am, I had Saturday school today, and it was really crappy. Like, I really did not want to get up that early, and as I said, it was just super crappy. But speaking of things that are crappy— no, not your car. Modern art. Now I know most of you heard the word "art" and are gonna click off this video because you hear enough about that at school and honestly could care less. But have you ever looked at modern art and just realized how stupid it is? I really don't know how popular this thing is, but did you know a rock was sold for over $10 million to a museum? $10 million for a rock! They didn't go Leonardo mode and, you know, sculpt something out of it. Some guy just found a rock, sold it to a museum for $10 million. Sadly, I don't even know if that's the worst thing I found when I was going through the internet looking for things to make fun of in this video. I came across a piece of artwork— that was called "Untitled." The name of it was "Untitled." It was literally just a piece of wood. Some dude in the United States went to Home Depot or Lowe's— I don't know which one is better— bought a piece of wood, put a title above it that says "Untitled," sold it for thousands of dollars, and is now bragging to his friends how he ripped off a museum. This next painting was made in the 1900s, so I don't know if it's considered modern art, but just look at it. Give me 10 minutes and Microsoft Paint, and I could recreate this artwork. I couldn't find how much this is worth, so I'm not gonna throw out a number, but apparently it's worth a lot of money. And I literally could make this in Microsoft Paint in like 5 seconds. It's stupid. The sad thing is someone out there is gonna be watching this video and wanna kill me because they're saying, "That looks so beautiful. Those are the best paintings ever. Why are you critiquing them?" And I'm just like, "What the heck, dude? They're ugly as crap. They make no sense." Honestly, when I was looking at modern art earlier, I felt like I was watching porn, not looking at art. But I'm not just gonna run around and, you know, call everything stupid and be completely one-sided. I am gonna say artwork like this, I actually appreciate it. I think it actually looks cool. Even though it sold for $40 million, which is just ridiculous, I could understand why this is modern art. The things that piss me off are when artworks that look like my little sister made it sell for $21 million like this, or sell for $32 million like this. Like, it literally looks like a bunch of preschoolers did this. I just— I don't get it. But that's pretty much the video. I gotta go, guys. I'm gonna go grab a rock and, uh, try to sell it for some money. I'm not gonna sell it for $10 million. I felt like that was a little high. I think I'll settle for around, you know, $9 million.
Telling me to get me home, but my balls keep telling me to let me out. Oh, just let me out. That clock keeps ticking like a metronome, and my thoughts keep telling me to get me home, but my balls keep telling me to let me out.
