I…am about…to blow your mind.
If you're lucky, I might even deep-throat, but it'll cost you an extra $20.
It's common knowledge that Vincent Van Gogh was a brilliant painter, had an abnormally large forehead, and was out-of-his-fucking-mind crazy.
Or was he?
It wasn't easy living a triple life as a painter, extreme masturbator, and killer.Why did Van Gogh cut off his ear and commit suicide? Many foolishly believe it's because of a broken friendship with Paul Gauguin—but this is a lie. A conspiracy passed down through the ages, from secret parliamentary meetings to bribed historians to witnesses tortured into silence. And in the end, sadly, into your textbooks. Most frightening of all, it's now on Wikipedia. Even Google fell for it.
What I'm about to write may once again blow your mind—if you can get it up again, that is.
In 1888 a demon escaped from hell and spread the following demonic mantra: if you use bigger and more complex words in the place of smaller, simpler words, then you are smart. That instead of saying "I put it over there" you would say "Establishing a conjointment betwixt said vendible commodity and aforementioned destination, a consummate relationship of temporary agglutination was formed."
Bitches would flock.
However, being the intellectual, God-fearing man he was, Van Gogh realized that using long words to sound smart made you a fucking moron with no soul who should be kicked in the crotch until dead. He also noticed that for every unneeded syllable you uttered, a piece of your heart turned into charred hooker remains. It was during this time historians say Vincent Van Gogh "went crazy" and "became recluse" and "went on a murderous rampage."
Fine, I added the last one—but it's true. During the last two years of his life Van Gogh took up a third hobby outside of painting and extreme masturbation: he became a Justified Murderer. Between 1888 and 1890 Van Gogh traveled around Europe sniping anyone who uttered needlessly-long words.
After putting his all into ridding the world of syllable-mongering demons, he couldn't take it anymore and sliced off one of his ears so he'd never again have to fully hear the putrid sounds again.
But it wasn't easy living a triple life as a painter, extreme masturbator, and killer. During his two years as a sniper, Van Gogh had to maintain his front as a "painter," so every now and then after a night of mass homicide and heavy drinking he'd slosh some paint on a canvas.
A few of his more notable cover-ups:
The Café Terrace on the Place du Forum, Arles, at Night, 1888
(What Van Gogh saw one night while lying in a pool of blood and used heroin needles)
The Starry Night, 1889
(While tripping on acid)
Portrait of Dr. Gachet, 1890
(This guy was a hooker; the painting was his payment)
Sadly, after Van Gogh realized that people would never stop using pointlessly big words, he committed suicide in 1890. But fear not—before Van Gogh passed through those pearly gates, he made a sacred vow that is still in effect to this day: whenever you use a longer or more complex word than is necessary, Vincent Van Gogh punches an angel.
Think about that next time you want to "sound smart," you indulgent ignoramus.
Oops! Sorry about that Gabriel!
