The Death Of An Opinionated Lounge Lizard

The problem writing ‘The Death Of An Opinionated Lounge Lizard’ is reducing the long list of candidates to one.

Following on the heels of:

The problem writing “The Death Of An Opinionated Turd”

The problem writing “TDOAOLL” is decidedly similar.

If you think about it, in one way much worse. Because you know so many more of these amiable social reptiles.

Decidedly cold-blooded. Opportunist. Ambush predators. Almost certainly social sociopaths; users, networkmeisters, and just straight-out, bold-faced frauds.

Emotional and financial betrayal a certainty for the trusting or unwary.

If they’re not selling you salvation later for your money now. They’re selling you snake oil. Or why you should vote them in — so they can rob the nation jointly and severally.

To restore some equilibrium to the argument, however, it must be said in their favor that some lounge lizards are remarkably and genuinely gifted: Artists blessed with the gift of the gab — to hype output which was never intended to appeal to or be ‘understood’ by the general public. But trigger off the speculative gene in investors with money they can afford to lose and a nose for future value where ‘taste’ is not a factor.

Andy Warhol is a prime example. A gifted artist (who could actually draw and paint to classical standards). An ad man who understood the ‘market’, human foibles and how to exploit them better than most. How to work a crowd par excellence, by remaining aloof — allowing the interested moth to come to the flame.To be slowly roasted to his delight. And profit.

To brand Andy a lounge lizard and a cold-blooded ‘user’ may surprise. But a brief incident Ultra Violet recounted in her ‘Famous for Fifteen Minutes’ which happened in the NYC basement ‘factory’ where he hung out with his followers, leaves little room for doubt.

Andy wanders in, surveys his motley crew who are still trying to get their heads together after a hard day’s night. And asks,

“What are we gonna do today, guys?”

“Silkscreen a flower,” Ultra Violet says.

“Why not?” Andy runs the roller over a couple.

“Can I have one?” she asks.

“Sure. That’s a thousand dollars.”

The US Dollar was worth something then. And Andy sure knew how to print money.

PS Andy’s “In the future everyone in the world will be famous for at least 15 minutes” turned 50 this year.

PPS Ultra Violet’s book was optioned and re-optioned a number of times.

Ultimately nobody stepped up to the plate to make a movie about how she was an art ‘groupie’ before or after the factory. But mostly because nobody really cares. Nor wishes to publicize anything that taints the ‘art scene’.

#MeToo has been alive and well a very long time.

Collectors have been making so much money for so long on Andy Warhol nobody gives a damn about the death of a (very talented) lounge lizard. Better dead than alive.

Stories about notable Warhol collections ‘full’ of forgeries are testament to his talent and market value.

Like the late, great Liberace, Andy Warhol laughed all the way to the bank.

And the moth wished it had never seen the candle.