Title: A Festival of Excrement
Product review: Come, brethren, let us rejoice that the "artist" who is the subject of this book is dead. The world is better off without fraudsters like him cluttering up the galleries of the world with their infantile scribble. This is the lowest of the low. The worst artist of the twentieth century. And that's saying a lot, considering that the whole point of art in the twentieth century was that anyone could do it. I only hope that my good friend Grabowski can make some comment on my review so that I can be assured of its propriety.
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