OBEY Fairey. Cont'd.

Me: Speak of the devil, Shepard Fairey was in Boston last night for an event at the ICA (he has an exhibition running through August) and he got arrested on his way there. Two outstanding warrants.
Me: Good. He belongs in jail.
Me: How can you say that? He's a great graffiti artist.
Me: Art shmart. His stuff belongs in an evidence book, not a museum.
Me: The article says he's been arrested 14 other times. It's awesome that he's willing to suffer for his art.
Me: Fourteen's not enough. And he's not suffering -- he's an attention hog.
Me: He makes things beautiful and interesting.
Me: He defaces other people's property.
Me: Ugh. You know, this is why writing my graffiti-writer story is so difficult. You.
Me: The one with your precious São Pauloan graffiti writer?
Me: Yes. He's supposed to be the hero of the story.
Me: Don't blame me if I'm turning him into the criminal he is.
Me: I won't let you.
Me: Just watch.
Me: You're such a Gollum.
Me: You're such a Smeagol.