Snob Problem

You'd think there was a lucrative tax on arrogance when you see what some snobs get away with. I've learned that talent, rather than opening doors for you, slams doors in your face. Let's go back to 1996 when I sent a few cartoons to the Georgia Straight, the local weekly, with the hope of breaking the ice with the local arts community. They left my name out when they published them. That didn't help. Then I tried volunteering at the Vancouver Art Gallery for a year and a half. Nothing opened up for me. I simply spent the whole time stuffing envelopes and didn't make a single new friend. How about that acting course? Well, that might have got me into my web design course, but it cost me my first one-act play. I guess I was supposed to make connections in that course but I couldn't because people were too jealous of my intelligence and talent. I recall the first day of our computer programming instruction. The teacher asked the class a question that demanded extrapolation from our existing knowledge. Only two students out of thirty were able to answer the question and I was one of them. When I showed that I knew the answer, the student beside me got so upset that she had to leave the class. I remember a lot more from that weird experience in 2007 now. I remember showing someone a sample of my poetry in my best handwriting, which must be impressive. Instead of enjoying it, the woman I showed it to got terribly upset and said: 'You shouldn't have this!' I shouldn't have my own poetry in my own handwriting, over which I slaved? That's exactly what she said. Later I vaguely remember being at an event where photocopies of these poems were distributed. Then I remembered how I earlier lost my notebook while I was onstage playing a gig. I guess she or someone like her stole the fucking thing. Since 2007, I've already documented how impossible it has been for me to make friends or gain the slightest support for my work - when my work is in my hands, at least. Apparently talent means nothing to this arts community. All they care about is their own little clique. There's something extremely wrong with an arts community that can't make room for a man who draws, writes poems, writes songs and stories, sings and plays musical instruments, and even volunteered at the art gallery. I can think of no other explanation than that this community consists of the worst snobs on the planet. As for breaking the ice with this community, that would seem to demand a nuclear warhead. It's funny how these people are so jealous of me at the same time as they make my life so fucking miserable that I can't look back on anything but a black hole for the last twenty years. Here I am even now, standing in soup lines and scratching from lice, and these fucking assholes are more jealous than ever. These elitists can only harm artists. These snobs care less about the quality and originality of a work of art than they do about whose name is on it. As long as that name belongs to them or one of their friends, as was likely the case from 2007 to 2010 with most of what I shared on the internet, they will support it. And after they are caught and exposed as frauds or accessories to fraud, having threatened to kill the true source of such work, they won't lift a finger to help him simply because he won't kiss their ass. They're the ones who deserve to be ignored. And so do their juvenile sounding favorites on the radio.
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