SO, a pregnant performance artist  is planning on having her baby in front of a bunch of people at a gallery in Brooklyn. Not just any part of Brooklyn, mind you—in Bushwick, a kind of industrial, ugly hipster haven that will probably be really amazing in about ten years but right now it is just mostly gross and kind of scary. Anyway, she’s calling this grand performance “art.” I don’t know, I mean if she has a giant gilded frame around her vagina and the baby slips out through it, I might consider that art. Like, really cool and grotesque 3-D art. Otherwise it’s just akin to making people watch your birthing videos. You know, I don’t really care how or where people have their babies as long as it’s not in my apartment. (Though I do NOT like when people get all braggy about having a natural drug-free labor that didn’t hurt and was almost orgasmic, blah blah Giselle.) But surely this woman has some semblance of pride…giving birth is not pretty. You can shit yourself, tear your butthole, tell your partner he’s a cocksucker for not having to go through this and scream for death to come and relieve you of your misery. If you want people to see you at your most humble, human self, I guess that’s your deal, even though the whole thing seems kind of weird and unsanitary. As for the audience members…they will probably both cry at the miracle of birth and never have sex again. (If they want to prep themselves, they should watch Discovery Health. That channel is all births, all the time.) Here’s to hoping it all works out, and she doesn’t have a performance art emergency c-section. That’s a whole different kind of freak show.

As a sidenote, do you know what would be cool? If this woman has a boy and names him Arthur, and calls him Art for short. He IS Art! Art is his destiny! Living, breathing Art!  Later in middle school, he has I AM ART! scrawled all over his notebooks, but his friends secretly add an “f” to the front of his name. Ok, now I’m just fantasizing about what I would do if I was his middle school friend.