Hello darlings, mwah mwah mwah, thank you so much for coming– I thought you were still in Dubai for the arms fair! Art collector and spender of her husband’s dirty money Anita Zabludowicz (see Apotheosis of the idiot) has excelled herself recently with her Art Diary [sic] about a trip to India. Never has an art diary had so little to do with either art or diaries. Or a basic level of literacy, empathy and emotional fluency. Apparently it makes her sad that the poor people in India don’t smile. Cheer up, bastards. She needn’t get on her high horse, anyway. I’ve never seen a photo of her– and she has herself photographed constantly– where her face even seemed physiologically capable of smiling. She also says:
“The locals could not do enough for us, they only wanted to please us and this was their reward, I wish us Brits were more like that.”
Lovely little brown people, adorable! A bit dirty, though. I think you’ll find that they’d prefer their reward to be money and not having to live in servile destitution and desperate squalor, Anita. I’m pretty sure Gandhi is still available on DVD; I suggest you watch it. On behalf of every man, woman and child in all the nations of the United Kingdom, I also apologise wholeheartedly for us not being subservient or powerless enough for you, Big Z. Don’t worry, though, your husband’s cowering accomplices in the Conservative Party are making some progress towards rolling back all our hard-won freedoms and accomplishments. It’ll be just like India, not even India now but India a century ago! “I say, Lady Zabludowicz, frightful bad luck… was aiming for the tiger and one of your bally rickshaw-wallahs got in the way. Blasted his head right orff. Send my condolences to the widow, and so forth. Now, where’s that blasted tea?”
Her next entry is:
“All the ladies were out in force in the streets buying up every Pashmina in sight totally absorbed by the surroundings.”
So basically: bollocks to those miserable paupers, we’re bored of them now, just show me where the shopping is.
Here’s some background information that I posted during a discussion of AZ on Twitter:
Her husband, Chaim “Poju” Zabludowicz, the billionaire and lobbyist for hardline Zionist causes who among other things funded the lavish globe-trotting lifestyle of UK Defence Secretary Liam Fox on the down low. Can’t imagine why, oh wait… I can. His wealth (CPZ’s I mean, although Fox’s apparently does too) comes primarily from Soltam, the Israeli manufacturer of mortars and artillery.
I’ve frequently heard it (defensively) said by gallerists and other art world elite people, or by underlings who have dealings with these people, that all money is dirty. This is absolute fucking bullshit, and they only say it because they know perfectly well that a lot of the money circulating at the upper echelons of the art world is the dirtiest there is. Somebody who won a million pounds from the lottery, a person who earned a million pounds by creating a treatment for cancer, and a person who earned a million pounds by selling the means to murder other people are in no way morally equivalent or comparable to one another. If all money were equally dirty, then the heiress to the dirty Winchester (gun) fortune wouldn’t have gone totally insane with guilt. If all money were equally dirty, then the arms dealer and inventor of dynamite (which killed his own brother) Alfred Nobel wouldn’t have endowed the Nobel Prizes. Who knows, perhaps AZ is at least in part animated by guilt about
the money I mean the man she married. If so, good: she bloody well should be.