Metropolitan Museum of Art

   Yesterday we finally went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It houses many of the worlds finest works of art, and people flock to visit - in bloody droves. Hordes of yabbering philistines turned what would otherwise be a place of quiet awe and reflection into a king size MacDonalds - a Big Mac with a side of masterpieces was the order of the day. Not that there were literally people scarfing down cheeseburgers while gazing upon a Matisse or an ancient Greek sculpture, but the feeling was similar. Most of the crowd there didn't really seem keen to actually enjoy any of artworks on display, but were content to just mill about, talking loudly to one another in the obnoxious way of mainstream America. But it has to be said that it was obvious that dozens of the people were only there under duress, having been forced to go by relatives, friends, or teachers. Poor buggers.

   But my bitching does not stop there! Even if we went on a 'quiet' day (this is holiday season after all) the museum is huge. Within its maze-like catacombs are housed thousands of artworks, and would truly require visit after visit to properly appreciate, as well as figure out how to navigate the bloody place. Really, smaller is better.


Rachel takes in Van Gogh's 'Bearded Irises'









Alex appreciates Picasso's 'Naked Chick' (I don't think that's its real title)