I can think of a few critics who should have the dog doo smeared on their tongues.
As noted at The Baffler:
Marco Goecke, the director of the Hanover State Opera’s ballet company, smeared dog feces in the face of his critic, who had written of his production of In the Dutch Mountains, “One alternates between a state of feeling insane and being killed by boredom.” The author of the feculence in question was Goecke’s dachshund, Gustav, himself a paragon of high culture who has notably dined with Princess Caroline of Monaco, so, as befits an exchange between such vaunted cultural commissars, this isn’t just any everyday hoi polloi turd we’re talking about—it’s the good shit. The episode invokes the history of artists who responded in kind to their naysayers, such as the time Joan Didion lit a bag of ordure outside Pauline Kael’s brownstone, rang the doorbell, and ran away cackling; Stephen King’s habit of prank calling Harold Bloom; and when Stanley Kubrick force-fed Gene Shalit his own pet lobster, David Pincher.
I can think of a few critics who should have the dog doo smeared on their tongues.
As noted at The Baffler:
Marco Goecke, the director of the Hanover State Opera’s ballet company, smeared dog feces in the face of his critic, who had written of his production of In the Dutch Mountains, “One alternates between a state of feeling insane and being killed by boredom.” The author of the feculence in question was Goecke’s dachshund, Gustav, himself a paragon of high culture who has notably dined with Princess Caroline of Monaco, so, as befits an exchange between such vaunted cultural commissars, this isn’t just any everyday hoi polloi turd we’re talking about—it’s the good shit. The episode invokes the history of artists who responded in kind to their naysayers, such as the time Joan Didion lit a bag of ordure outside Pauline Kael’s brownstone, rang the doorbell, and ran away cackling; Stephen King’s habit of prank calling Harold Bloom; and when Stanley Kubrick force-fed Gene Shalit his own pet lobster, David Pincher.
He just happened to have a bag full of dog poop with him when he went to the opera house. No trash cans along the way, I guess.
Marco Goecke and Gustav the dachshund seem to have a warm relationship at least.
Speaks well of them both