So the Human and a friend went to the Museum of Modern Art this afternoon. It was partly wonderful and partly, well, maybe "around the bend" is a good phrase.
In one gallery a sort of street scene had been arranged (see below), complete with body-on-the-sidewalk. A well-meaning museum patron apparently didn't get the message though, and inquired repeatedly whether he was all right. He moved not a muscle, but the gallery attendant approached her, and in a portentous whisper explained, "Don't speak to him. He's performing."
Oh. Well, then, pass the popcorn.