Sunday, August 13, 2017

David Bowie Exposes The High End Art Market Scam

Bowie Created a Fictitious Abstract Expressionist to Make A Point About The High End Art Market:  It's A Crock of Shit

I loved David Bowie.  He was a great singer, and a great art collector.  Not a great art collector because he collected great art (some great and some horrible), but a great art collector because he was able to mastermind a scheme to expose what a fraud the high end art market really is.  He loved art for his own reasons which I respect, but I think he loved exposing the truth even more.

Here's the article from The Independent .

What I love is that Bowie and his journalist buddy William Boyd exposed the scam at a reception party at Jeff Koon's studio for the launch of William's latest book about Nat Tate.  The launch party was hosted by Bowie.

The book is about Nat Tate, who suffered depression, and destroyed 99% of his work before committing suicide by jumping off the Staten Island Ferry.  Tate was a lover of Peggy Guggenheim, and a friend of Braque and Picasso.

It was a load of bullshit.

The book was a complete fraud, not one ounce of truth in it.

The guests at this party were welll known artists like Frank Stella, and Julian Schnabel, high end art dealers, the press and TV.

David Lister, the arts editor of the article, wrote this interesting take-a-way rationalization of Bowie's scam (By the way, John Richard, Picasso's biographer was aware of the scam as well as Gore Vidal):

So what did it all prove?  That the art world, perhaps the whole cultural world, is scared ever to admit to a lack of knowledge, scared ever to use the words: “I’ve never heard of him.” How quickly the great and the good of that world convinced themselves of Nat Tate’s existence.

I'm going to add to that in a straight forward, no-nonsense way.  David Bowie and his friends proved that the high end art market is nothing but a bunch of ego maniacs who want to keep their little club as secret as possible while the rest of us believe whatever they dictate is the truth.

Apparently, Nat is portrayed in the biography as an average artist who realizes he can't compete with the likes of Picasso.  As a result, he decides to burn his work and commit suicide.

Bravo, David Bowie, and bravo to your friends who were in on you scheme.  You exposed a lot more than a fictitious artist whose mediocre work landed him a place at the bottom of upper New York Bay.  You exposed the high end art market for what it really is.

A lot of my are is average, just like Nat Tate's.  But I did create the only spirit in a painting in the world. You can't make up a story like mine about Pierre.  Here's the press release, which also has contains information about the high end art market that is just as pertinent today as it was two years ago, even more so today, as exemplified by the article.

Press Release about Pierre, The Only Spirit in A Painting in The World

The painting is on the market for $54.4 million, and worth every penny.  Interestingly enough, a spirit discovered in a painting is more pertinent today than it was two years ago.

Stay tuned.  The proof is in the pudding.

Saturday, August 12, 2017

Adam Conover is Right...

Artnet Running to the Aid of the High End Art Market

Here's the article by Brian Boucher, posted a couple of days ago on Artnet:

It's funny to see Artnet running to the rescue of the high end art market after this episode of Adam Ruins Everthing on TruTV every Tuesday 10/9C:

I could run circles around how Brian Boucher and Artnet responded to Conover in the article, but I'll briefly dissect the 5th Conover art market right wronged by Boucher:

5. You Can Buy Art on the Street That's Just as Good as What You Could Buy in a Gallery.  But Those 
    Artists "Aren't Allowed to Succeed."

This statement is absolutely true, and the response by Artnet makes the statement even truer because of the absurdity of Artnet's rebuttle.

You can also find gold nuggets in a riverbed, but considering the time it takes to find the right riverbed and learn the techniques for locating the gold, years of your life could have passed by. Galleries are businesses run by specialists whose primary value proposition is that they know who good artists are, have relationships with them, and can cut through the chaff to get the cream of the cream.

What?  Artnet confused me with this paragraph.  What does finding gold in a riverbed have to do with finding great art?  Oh, it's the techniques for locating the gold and great art that have the same thing in common, huh?  (By the way, I always thought the saying was "The cream of the crop, not "The cream of the cream," but whatever).

And how do Galleries know who the "good" artists are?  Are they combing the streets door to door to find the good art?  And by what standards do "The specialists" know the good are from the bad art?

Yes, the art world, like many businesses that serve the one percent, runs on nepotism and connections. But these art dealers (and curators) are also constantly on the lookout for undiscovered talent. The clubbiness of the art market is more often the result of laziness or lack of resources than a nefarious pyramid scheme; tastemakers often fall back on their existing networks rather than taking the considerably more difficult path of looking beyond them. That said, true talent is rare, and sometimes takes a long time to be properly recognized, either by museums or the art market. Jean-Michel Basquiat started out as a graffiti writer, and now his works can sell at auction for upward of $110 million. Why wouldn’t dealers create a million art stars from thin air, if they were such skilled manipulators?

What is a "tastemaker?"  What "existing networks" are they falling back on?  True talent is rare?  Compared to what?  Fake talent? 

Oh, and that's why Basquiat's painting are selling upwards of $110 million now.  After his death, some genius realized that he had "true talent."  And "true talent is so rare, that nobody figured out he had "true talent" while he was alive. Now it makes sense to me... not.

Obviously, not a lot of time was put into writing this article, right Boucher?  Or is your average reader a dumbshit?

Please, don't get me started.

This is why the art market needs to be bypassed completely when selling important artwork.  If you take the control out of the hands of the shot callers, what happens?  That's right, they loose their control.

That's why I'm offering Pierre, the only documented spirit in a painting, on my own website and without the help of art dealers who don't have my best interests at heart, but theirs.

Mark my words.  I'm going to completely destroy the high end art market, single handed.  How will I do it?  
consistently exposing what a farce it is.  I'm gonna pick out the shot callers, one by one, and eliminate their power with the truth and with my pen.  

Remember the old saying, "The pen is mightier than the sword."

By the way, according to Boucher and Artnet, it might take a thousand years after I'm dead before a genius realizes I had a "true talent."

Don't get me started.

"Pierre"  Could you be the genius who realizes I have "true talent?"... please, give me a break.

Nobody Can Replicate What I've Done for The High End Art Market and Comedy Horror Novels

Don't Click on The Above Link

There will never be another novel like Wee Wee's World.

Just like there will never be another documented spirit in a painting.

Greg Furie

Pierre Conquered A Spiritual Truth...

"Pierre" Conquered An Unparalleled Spiritual Truth In The High End Art Market

Yeah, I wrote a phenomenal horror comedy novel, Wee Wee's World.  But I'd like to talk about the novel's guest star, Pierre, for a minute.

I was an artist before writing Wee Wee's World.  I never approached my artwork as a career. Art has always been a means to an end for me. I'm not interested in creating pretty pictures of landscapes for public consumption or utilizing my skill to fulfill or start a new movement like Cubism - not my style. Instead, I decided to travel the road much less traveled, and use my art as a spiritual journey to accomplish the ultimate spiritual goal - creating the only (documented by very gifted psychics) spirit portal in a painting that I named Pierre.  You can see him on this blog and by typing "only spirit portal in a painting" on Google.

With that accomplishment I've been freed to pursue other endeavors in my life.  Now, if Pierre sells I'm not saying I wouldn't get back into art in some capacity to rest on my laurels, but it's not likely.  I accomplished my goal, and it's time for me to move on.

Let me give you a powerful analogy of what I mean. Albert Einstein entered physics not to teach it to college students for 30 years but as a means to an end to invent his Theory of Relativity & E=MC Squared. After he accomplished his goal he could move on with his life, and pursue other endeavors.

The Proof is in The Pudding

When you look at a photograph of Pierre tell me if he doesn't resemble one of your relatives.  He could be a descendent of your family.  Who knows.  I have had a few psychics do readings on Pierre, and their comments range from he died in a tragic accident to he fought in the Civil War and died in a tragic fire.  

Here is the hauntingly real photo of a spirit capture in a painting:

The truly amazing fact about Pierre is that he was not drawn on the canvas.  His image formed by water I flicked at my canvas that mixed with watercolor paint. His image WAS NOT drawn on the canvas. When I first saw him I knew right away that he was a spirit.  I can't explain how I knew, but have you ever had a moment where you looked at someone and knew you had a deep connection with that person? Well that's how I felt.

$54.4 Million Gets You The Only Documented Spirit in A Painting in The World

Geez, I would call that the bargain of the century since no other artist has done what I've done, and when I say no other artist that includes:

Van Gogh

Contact me at to discuss purchasing this one of a kind painting that will never be replicated.

Greg Furie
The Only Artist to Have Created A Spirit Portal in A Painting

Jerry Saltz, Failed Artist Because...

Jerry's "Compartmentalized" Mind

I read through his memoir on Vulture.

In it, he describes his failed life as an artist.

His upbringing isn't that much different than any other kid's.  He blames his failure as an artist on his childhood upbringing.  His dad beat him with a leather strap.  He compares his Dante's Divine Comedy "compartmentalized" paintings to his dad's "compartmentalized house," a nice try at psychoanalysis in a shallow, Zombie Formalist kind of way. 

But putting his dramatic childhood aside, I do have one question that I'd like to address.

What makes a failed artist think he's qualified to become an art critic?

I mean, he gave up.  He never came close to the inner peace artists feels when they reach the pinnacle of their work.  A lot of artists don't reach that pinnacle, so Jerry's story is not unique.

But to critique other artist's work before feeling content with your own work, even a feeling of achievement with your own work?  How is Jerry qualified to be an art critic?  Let's put that question aside for a minute.

Art is about growing spiritually.  It's a means to an end, unless your a commercial artist, in which case you do art for a living.  Let me speak personally.  I've achieved the pinnacle in spirituality in my art.  Basically, I have no reason to continue doing art, unless I want to reproduce the pinnacle I reached.  It's no different that reaching specific goal in your life.  After you reach the goal, are you going to stop there?  Or are you going to continue on to accomplish another goal you've set for yourself?  You're going to continue on, right?

I'm guessing Jerry thinks he's reached the pinnacle of success as an art critic, which gives him the right to write about his failed life as an artist.

But something doesn't add up.

Oh, I know what it is.  Jerry Saltz is a fake, just like his new Twitter account.  Let me put that another way.
Jerry failed as an artist, so what would make me believe he's succeeded as an art critic?  That sounds right.

Please allow me to give you an example.  In his article, Jerry's attempts to show empathy, even to the extent of giving a fair shake to any artist regardless of there status in the world, is nothing less than a mish mash of a corporate mission statement and an equal opportunity employer poster that you find on the walls of most businesses:

Having been an artist, I see it very differently. I see myself as part of this great broken beautiful art-world family of gypsies, searching and yearning and in pain — and under pressure, doing things that they have to do. I refuse to believe this spirit has left the art world even though I comprehend that this exquisite internal essence is now buried under loads of external bullshit. I know almost every artist wakes up at 3 a.m. in a cold sweat thinking that the bottom has fallen out of their work. That each of us is self-taught and some kind of outsider. I want to celebrate, examine, describe, and judge this otherness, outsiderness, and try to see if an artist’s vision is singular, surprising, and energized in its own original way. My vision wasn’t, at least in ways I was able to realize in those 10 or 12 years. I didn’t have the ability and fortitude. That’s why I always look for it in others — root for it in others — even when the work is ugly or idiotic. I want every artist, good and bad, to clear away the demons that stopped me, feel empowered, and be able to make their own work so we can see the “real” them. It’s why I look hard at every artist, at the well-known and the rich as well as the late bloomers, bottom-feeders, outsiders, and eccentrics. Since it’s nearly a miracle that I finally ended up in the art world as a critic — something I never wanted to be — I want every artist to have a shot, to see that power, access, and agency is in their hands. It’s why I value clarity and accessibility in criticism over all the jargon we usually get. I want critics to be as radically vulnerable in their work as I know artists are in theirs.

Folks, I'm not talking out my ass here.  I approached Jerry about the documented spirit in a painting I did, and he flippantly dismissed it as Zombie Formalism without any investigation or geniune interest that there could be something very interesting in my work.  He's an arrogant asshole, and what you read above couldn't be further from the truth about what kind of person Jerry Saltz really is.

If Jerry had the balls, he'd reply to this post, but that won't happen.  He's living the dream.

Listen, we're all hypocrites at some point in our lives, but this article is not about exposing hypocrites.

This article is about exposing a straight up fake, Jerry Saltz.
Here's the press release I put out on "Pierre," The Only Documented Spirit in A Painting

By the way, "Pierre" stars in a horror comedy novel I recently wrote called Wee Wee's World.

You can read the original article and more about "Pierre," The only documented spirit in a painting here:  Pierre

-Greg Furie

The 2014 Supreme Court of Zombie Formalism

I'm Glad These Impressive Judges Aren't Judging My Fate

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Jerry "Salty" Saltz...

Jerry, You Bumbling Idiot

I asked Saltz if he knew what a spirit portal was.  Also, I asked him not categorize my art as Zombie Formalism. He tweeted me back the following:

1. I won't categorize your art.
2. Do you know what a spirit portal is?
3. Cool
4. Will just say I don't like it.

Hmm... How should I react to that?  Jerry Saltz has an ego bigger than the truck he drove before he became an art critic.

Actually, Jerry has no idea what a spirit portal painting is, but he's so used to talking out his ass that he makes himself believe that whatever he thinks is the truth.

The bottom line is this:  Jerry "Salty" Saltz has disrespected me, himself, and the entire art world by making glib comments about "Pierre," the only documented Spirit Portal Painting in the world.

I sincerely believe Jerry is scared shitless of "Pierre."  And no, I don't think he knows what a spirit portal is, but if he knows how to use a dictionary he really should find out the definition before making a fool of himself.  Well, too late for.that.

But I do have one question for you, Jerry, based on a photo with a comment you made on your Facebook page: Do you spank your monkey thinking about Beyonce?

Maybe you and Scott Indrisek can form a new art critic partnership.  You can call it, "Jerry and Son."

Careful, Jerry... Pierre might be after you next.

"Pierre" is Back... Big Time

Click on this link and explore the posts about Pierre.  The only documented spirit portal painting in the world:

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Did "Pierre" Get Scott Indrisek Fired from Blouin?

You Should Have Been Nice to Me, Mr. Indrisek

I have my suspicions that Scott Indrisek got fired from Blouin Modern Painters because of the article he wrote about the "Pierre" spirit portal painting, the only documented spirit portal painting in the world.  In the article he wrote, Scott disrespectfully compared "Pierre" to some other pieces of art I did.  Any idiot could clearly see that a spirit portal in a painting is no where near the same thing as a painting entitled, "Pig Boy."

But Indrisek was too busy trying to make fun of me and my delusions of grandeur.  He shouldn't have taken "Pierre" so lightly.  Now "Pierre" is mad as hell, and want's revenge.  It seems like he's getting it.

Here's the article he wrote:  

I couldn't help but notice that Scott made Editor-in-Chief at Modern Painters, and then got "let go" soon thereafter.

It seems like Louise Blouin is having problems of her own as well.  Could "Pierre" be responsible for that too?  Things on earth are pre-determined.  Whether we want to believe that or not is our problem.

What's the take away?

Don't fuck with the unknown unless you know what you're fucking with, like a pissed off spirit in a spirit portal painting.  Hah!

Here's a photo of "Pierre," and it's wicked as hell:

Greg Furie

Monday, August 7, 2017

"Pierre" in a Press... ?

"Pierre," The Only Documented Spirit in a Painting, Now Stars in A Novel, "Wee Wee's World," to Keep His Spirit Alive

August 07, 2017

Greg Furie, outspoken, artist and creator of "Pierre," the only spirit portal painting in the world, has written a novel called Wee Wee’s World starring “Pierre,” to keep his spirit alive. 

(1888PressRelease) August 07, 2017 - Furie recently wrote the novel, “Wee Wee’s World,” the story about a loser dad, “Leonard Litkovitz,” who couldn’t have children of his own because of an abnormally low sperm count, and his killer ventriloquist dummy son, Wee Wee. 

Furie believes that his spirit portal painting “Pierre,” wasn’t taken seriously by the high end art market, so he decided to get create the novel as a way of keep the spirit of “Pierre,” the only document spirit in a painting, alive. 

"Pierre" has been validated by several reputable high-end art sources including Jerry Saltz, Senior Art Critic with New York Magazine who likes "Pierre," and Gisabel, a recommended and esteemed member of Shay Parker's best American psychics. Gisabel has this to say about "Pierre," "I see the face of a spirit reflecting on his past. This is a beautiful painting. Blessings." Scott Indrisik wrote an article about Pierre called, “Of Spirit Portals and Zombie Formalists.”

Psychic medium, Laura Stamps, who has been extremely psychic since she was a child, only spends half of each day in the earth realm. She spends the rest of her time in the astral realms, and speaks with the spirits there 24/7. Laura studied the painting closely and could see it serves as a portal for this spirit. She said "Greg the spirit in your painting definitely has an energy aura. This is the first time I have ever made contact with a spirit through a painting, but he spoke to me loud and clear. He's a very somber spirit. He was a quiet, reserved man in his last life time, who died suddenly and tragically." Laura then concluded with, "he died in a tragic accident. His message to you is it's time for some 'endings' in your life. That's his message."

Furie said, “In the novel, “Pierre” is conjured out of the spirit portal painting and into real life by “Wee Wee” to help out with the atrocities that Leonard and Wee Wee commit. Also, “Pierre” does a mean moon walk that Michael Jackson would’ve been proud of.”

Furie added, “It’s insulting for me to have to bring attention to “Pierre” like this, but I had to think creatively. It’s just not right that the high end art market dismiss this amazing discovery without even taking a look at it.

Furie concluded, "At least in “Wee Wee’s World, the “Pierre” painting is auctioned off for a billion dollars by Sotheby’s.” 

The painting is still available for $54.4 million which is a bargain since it is the only spirit portal painting in the world and a phenomenal advancement in art."


Saturday, August 5, 2017

Don't Insult My...

Don't Insult My Intelligence

I'm insulted by the way people talk to me, by the way authors write stories, the way people drive their cars, and by the way movies are made.  In my book (my mind), their are two types of people.  One type are the people who genuinely care about other people and respect them.  These people have manners.  The other group of people don't give a shit about other people.  They're selfish, ignorant, show no respect, and don't have manners.

I wrote Wee Wee's world the way people want to read a novel.  Whether it's horror or another genre doesn't matter.  I don't sugar coat anything.  How I feel is what I write because I want to connect with you at the level how you feel.  Does that make sense?  Too much detail and beating around the bush annoys me and comes across as deceitful, selfish, and disrespectful. Your time is valuable, so why should I waste it? My time is valuable, and I don't want you wasting it.  Am I right about this or not?

Wee Wee's World is a book written for how you feel.  You may not agree with it, but at least it gets the point.  Either you're going to like it or not.  There is no in between.  The in between is for the critics.  You know, those people out there who demand respect, but don't give it under any circumstance.

You want to be entertained?  Then Wee Wee's World is for you.
You want situations that you can relate too?  So do I.  You may not like the situation, but you can relate to it.

I'm not just talking about writing.  I'm talking about how humans communicate with one another.

Either you have respect for me or you don't, and how you communicate with me will tell the tale. I know my thinking here is idealistic, and I am realistic.  But I know quality entertainment, and I don't have time to waste your time writing a book that took me two years to write.  I wrote the book for a reason, and that reason is there's too many books out there that don't respect what you're really thinking.  You know what I mean.

By the way, in my last post, "I'm in a Titty Trance,"  here's the section of the novel where that's mentioned:

Chapter Twelve, Old Spermy

She almost jumped out of her skin. “You startled me, Leonard." "I apologize, Beverly. I didn’t mean too. Dad's fixing some of his famous cheese eggs and said it would be okay if I came back here to give you and Chad a gift I picked up while on a trip to Europe.” "That’s very thoughtful of you, Leonard. Thank you.” “It’s the same gift I gave Dad, but it’s so cool I thought you and Chad would love it too.” “Leonard, before you give us the gift, I have a little something for you.” I hesitated, unsure of where this was going. “Really, what is it?” She said, “Well, Harry doesn’t seem to like the way my tits turned out after the surgery. He thinks they’re too big. So you don’t know how much it meant to me when you told me you love my tits. Well, let me get to the point. I appreciated you telling me my tits look great so much that I’m going to let you massage them and suck on my nipples. Would you like that, Leonard?” I think I went into shock. In a daze, I said, “What?” She undid her blouse and took off her bra, and there they were. The most beautiful pair of D Cups I’ve ever fucking seen. Her nipples were hard as pebbles. My hands had a mind of their own and massaged the hell out of those wonders of nature. I took her up on the nipple sucking offer too. She was making moaning sounds and said, “That feels so good, Leonard. Don’t stop.” Unfortunately, a flashback of Carrie’s sister Cheryl’s tits popped into my thoughts, which led to another flashback of Cheryl laughing at my three-inch cock. The garrotes had fallen to the floor when I put my hands on Beverly’s tits, so I knelt down to pick them up. Beverly knelt down with me. My right hand never stopped massaging her right tit while feeling around the floor for the device with my right hand. I finally found it and had to force my hands off her tits to throw the device around her neck. We stood back up, and I resumed where I left off. With her eyes closed and moaning in ecstasy, she said, “What is this thing, Leonard?” I said, “It’s a new age neck massaging device with a patented laser beam heat element that penetrates your neck muscles all the way to your vertebrae.” She moaned, “Turn it on for me, Leonard.” I took the remote out of my pocket with my right hand, while my left hand continued feeling out her tits. I pressed the white button and then pressed the blue button under it. “Wow, that feels terrific,” she whispered, while I continued rubbing her rack. “I agree. Your tits definitely feel terrific.” The garrote tightened around her neck. She said, “Why is this thing getting so tight, Leonard?” Then she tried removing it with her fingers the way Harry did, but that only made it tighten quicker. That thing was cutting her fucking head off, and I didn’t give a shit. I continued massaging her boobs while her fingertips popped off, and blood sprayed out of her neck like a geyser. Even when she fell to the floor I fell with her. My hands never stopped rubbing her soft, voluptuous breasts. I was in a titty trance and couldn’t snap out of it, didn’t even want to snap out of it. Her kid was screaming on the floor next to me. I couldn’t hear him for a couple of minutes because of the carnival music and titty trance I was in. Chad’s screams got louder and louder until I snapped out of the titty trance. Probably five minutes after she was dead I stopped rubbing her titties. My attention was now turned to little Chad who was sitting on the floor next to Mommy. I couldn’t find the other garrote, so I got up off of Beverly and frantically looked around for it.

When's the last time you were in a titty trance? Today at the grocery store?  Yesterday at the gas station? Come on, don't insult my intelligence. 

I was in a Titty Trance...

Chapter Twelve, Old Spermy

Old Spermy is my biological father.  Well, Leonard's biological father.  And Leonard just happens to be my biological father's name.

Yes the chapter was influenced by my sperm donor, deadbeat dad.  God I hate calling him dad, in any capacity.

The mother fucker sold me and my siblings for a penny to get out of paying child support.  That's right.  The child support court order was lifted, and the back child support owed was removed from his credit reports, all for a stinking red cent.

I'm almost positive my story isn't unique.  I mean, how many kids had to or are having to or will have to live through their parents' ugly divorces.  Millions upon million upon millions, maybe it's in the trillions?

Fuck you, Leonard.

At least I got to feel out his new trophy wife's tits.

It's interesting, and I've noticed this before, but every time I write something specific about Leonard, Wee Wee's Dad, I write it in the first person, "I."

And why did I name Wee Wee's dad, "Leonard," when I hate the guy so much?  This book is ugly, folks, with lots of unsavory characters.  "Leonard" fits right in.

Anyway, I dedicate this chapter to Leonard Harry Leeds, the colossal prick deadbeat da (I can't write it) that sold my ass for a penny.  I hope it was worth it, you cocksucker. 

Chapter Twelve, Old Spermy, The First Few Pages

It was Thursday morning and my wife thought I started a new job today. But I was really on my way to the sperm donor’s house. It turned out that he was living large in an upscale neighborhood in Ventura County. It was a sprawling ranch style home at the end of a paved road that turned into a dirt road at the end of a cul-de-sac. Keep in mind that I haven’t seen Old Spermy, as I refer to him, in thirty years. He gave me up for adoption and quit his kids when I was nine. The cost to him was one fucking red cent. That’s right. I was nine years old at the time, and Harry gave the adoption of his kids to my stepdad the seal of approval under one condition. Old Spermy negotiated a payment of one red cent to get the hundred thousand dollar child support back order removed from his credit report. To say I wanted this man deader than a door nail was an understatement. I knocked on Harry’s door at 10:30 am. Through the thick stained glass on the door, I saw somebody approach. One of the thick oak wood double doors opened, and what did I see? The hottest trophy wife I’ve ever seen. She was a petit bottle blonde with fake tits and a hot tanned body. I’m pretty sure I was older than her by at least ten years. Actually, she looked barely eighteen. She had a little tike hiding between her legs. Let me guess, Old Spermy’s second attempt at the perfect family. It was enough to make me throw up, and I did in the potted tree just outside the front door. She said, “Are you alright?” I wiped my mouth and pretended like I didn’t hear her. I said, "Is my dad home?" She replied, "I'm sorry. You must have the wrong house. My husband doesn’t have a grown son." As she closed the door in my face I blurted out, “Harry Finkelstein?” She slowly opened the door again. With a crinkled brow, she gazed at me. I thought I heard her say under her breath, “Harry, you motherfucker.” I said, “How rude of me. My name is Leonard Litkovitz. Harry is my sperm donor dad. I mean my biological father.” She looked at me like she’d just seen a ghost. Her kid started crying. I said, “Could you kindly tell Harry that Leonard, his son, is here to pay his respects?” She said, “Uh, Yeah, sure.” She picked up her baby and went to get Old Spermy. I took a moment to admire the beautiful front yard landscaping and thought to myself, “Looks like Old Spermy’s done well for himself. I bet he’d have no problem paying that back child-support now.” The door opened, and I quickly turned around. There he was, ladies and gentlemen, with a full head of dark brown curly hair and a dark brown mustache. He had half a head of gray hair when I was nine years old, so I said with an enormous amount of sarcasm, “Dad? Your hair looks great. How about giving your son a great big hug?” His trophy wife watched all this drama taking place from inside the door. I saw that she had one of her hands over her mouth. Harry said one word in a fake excited tone of voice, “Leonard.” Then he ran towards me like I was his lover. Even still, I couldn’t tell if he wanted to tackle me to the ground or give me a hug, so I prepared myself for the worst. He decided to give me a hug. Then he looked me in the eye and whispered, “Leonard, what the fuck are you doing here?” “Don’t make a scene, Dad, or I’ll fuck this marriage up too.” Harry suddenly had a smile on his face. I smiled back at him. “That’s right, Old Spermy. Play the fucking game.” I put my arm around him, and we walked towards the front door. I said, “Let’s go inside, Pop. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” He went along with the charade because his new wife, who was staring at his every move, had no idea that her loving husband had three kids from a previous marriage that he gave up for adoption at a price of one stinking cent. We walked into the entry way. I said, “Dad, your home is gorgeous. Looks like you finally found a job, huh?” I glanced at his wife and the expression on her face was priceless. Trophy wife cleared her throat as a signal to Harry. He said, “Forgive me, this is my beautiful wife Beverly, and our three-year-old son Chad.” I nodded at them. “It’s my pleasure meeting you Beverly. I wish I could say I’ve heard a lot about you, but dear old Dad never got around to letting me know he got remarried.” Yeah, I was on a mission to fuck up Harry’s day and enjoyed every minute of it. After an uncomfortable silence, Harry said, "Why don't we continue catching up in the living room?” Beverly asked me, “Would you like something to drink, Leonard?” I replied, “Sure, a soda would be fine.” The living room was easily 1,000 square feet with a fifty-inch flat screen television embedded in the wall. We sat down on the Italian leather couch. Harry said to me, “Please, Leonard. Don’t fuck this up for me. So far you’re doing a pretty damn good job."

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Who is Greg Groovie? The Secret Behind The Pseudonym

Greg Groovie's True Identity Revealed

I can't live this lie any longer.

I wanted to hide behind a pseudonym because of the graphic nature of my novel, "Wee Wee's World."  But now I'm thinking, "Why should I give a shit what people think?"

The novel is what it is regardless of what my name is.

What is my real name?

Greg Furie.

Remember the Spirit Portal Painting, "Pierre?"  I just wrote a blog post about it, but you can read the press release here:

Scott Indrisek, who at the time worked for Blouin ArtInfo,as Editor-in-Chief, wrote an article about Furie and "Pierre":

It's funny.  I still have the original painting hanging on my wall.  It's the cover of "Wee Wee's World," my novel:

I used Pierre in the novel because he fit in perfectly with Leonard's and Wee Wee's characters.

They're all killers and compliment each other's personalities.

I guess you could say that all three characters are my alter egos.

In the book, Sotheby's sells "Pierre" for a billion dollars.

In my press release, I offered "Pierre" for $54 million.

The book is only $9.99.

Which would you choose?  (Sorry, I couldn't resist).

Wow, I'm glad I got that off my chest.

- Greg Groovie (Furie)

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Wee Wee's World Synopsis

Synopsis for Wee Wee's World

Wee Wee’s World

Leonard Kitkovitz was an ordinary kid with a loving mom and step-dad living in suburban America. Then on Leonard’s 12th birthday, his parents gave him a gift that would change his life forever. They gave him Wee Wee, a ventriloquist dummy. Leonard was ecstatic about the gift and immediately began to practice his ventriloquism skills. Things soon took a dark turn when Leonard realized that Wee Wee was able to talk to him and that he was guiding and instructing Leonard to do horrible things.

Fast forward several years and Leonard is married and living a somewhat happy life, free from any influence from Wee Wee. Due to a horrible mess at a junior high school talent show that separated the two, Wee Wee hasn’t been a part of his life for years, or so Leonard believes. Despite Wee Wee not telling him to do horrible things, Leonard finds that he can’t stop from committing severe atrocities. He feels like something is making him do it, but he doesn’t understand why.

When Leonard reached adulthood, he found out that he had an abnormally low sperm count. This caused strife for him and his wife, but when Leonard is reunited with Wee Wee, he realizes that Wee Wee is the only son he has ever had or needed.

Having been separated for so many years, Leonard and Wee Wee spend a lot of time together, making up for lost time. Leonard soon realizes that Wee Wee was behind all his horrible actions, despite being away from him the entire time. Now that they are reunited, Wee Wee’s influence is that much stronger.
Leonard and Wee Wee begin to get into all kinds of interesting and horrifying adventures, causing Leonard to question his relationship with Wee Wee. In an effort to understand and deal with his increasingly haunting life, he seeks therapy, takes medication, and even pays a voodoo priest to perform an exorcism on him. None of this works, naturally, and his life with Wee Wee continues down its dark path.

Since most of the atrocities that Leonard and Wee Wee commit only affect strangers or people that Leonard despises, he begins to get used to his new way of living. As things continue to spiral, he starts to enjoy it, even looking forward to their next adventure. They begin to use their talents to obtain massive amounts of wealth, allowing Leonard to pursue his own interests. Those interests become progressively more aligned with Wee Wee’s interests as they go, which doesn’t bother Leonard in the least. He loves his son Wee Wee, and he will never change his mind on that…or will he?

- Greg Groovie

Saturday, July 29, 2017

Hitler, Quentin Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs, and Wee Wee's World

Hitler, Reservoir Dogs, and Wee Wee's World

There's a scene in Wee Wee's World that's similar to a scene in Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs.  Now, my book hasn't been made into a movie (yet), but I can tell you that just by reading the below excerpt you'll see the similarity in the scene.  However, I honestly believe the scene I wrote is way more original than what Tarantino wrote in Reservoir Dogs.

Anyway, in Reservoir Dogs, there's a scene where Michael Madsen tapes a cop's mouth who's tied to a chair.  Madsen turns on the radio and the popular song "Stuck in the Middle with You" starts playing, at which point Madsen cuts off the cops ear.  Here's the scene, which is probably the best scene in the movie: 

Now in scene below, Wee Wee sets up a dream for Leonard where he confronts Hitler.  Tell me if you can't see the similarity.  Imagine what this scene would look like in a movie.   

Here it is:

Then out of nowhere, I heard the faint sound of high heels from a distance.  Hitler even turned his head to see what it was.  As I'm looking in the direction of the sound, it's getting louder, and I can see three black ladies in elegant, glittery nightgowns walking towards me. 

The women stand next to Hitler.  The lady in the middle counted off “A one…a two…a one, two, three, four.”

The ladies started a dance routine and snapped their fingers like some backup singers.  

They started singing in a beautiful three-part harmony:
Hitler is a jerk,
Hitler is a jerk,
Mr. Tiny pulled his weenie
Now it doesn't work.

I laughed and applauded their singing. “Wow, that was groovy.” 

I got up and danced in front of Hitler with the nail gun in my hand while the ladies sang chorus after chorus of the same little tune.

While I danced around Hitler, I nonchalantly popped a nail or two in him.  The best part about the whole thing was hearing him scream every time a nail entered his body.  Sometimes I’d hit him with four or five nails at once just to hear him scream louder.

After the fiftieth chorus, I must have put two hundred nails in Hitler, mostly in his legs and his arms because I didn't want to puncture any vital organs that could’ve killed him instantly. 

The singers’ act was coming to a close.  They kept singing the tune while they walked backward away from me and Hitler.  Their voices got softer and softer the further away they walked.  Eventually, they were gone and it was just me and Hitler again.

Hitler struggled to stay conscious. 

I sat down on the chair and said to him, “Okay, jerk, this is your last chance to tell me why you killed millions of people.  I know Mr. Tiny pulled your weenie and now it doesn't work, but if you don't give me an honest answer in the next thirty seconds, your heart won't work either.” 

“You stupid fool,” he spat out. “You have no idea who your son is or what he is capable of.  Wee Wee made me do it.  He made me kill millions of people, you Jew cocksucker.  Go ahead and ask him.  And put me out of my fucking misery.”  I pulled off his gas mask and he keeled over.  He died from the Zyklon B in the air, the same Zyklon B that Hitler used in his concentration camps to asphyxiate Jews.

Greg Groovie 

10 Reasons Why Leonard Litkovitz is the Biggest Loser Dad on The Planet

10 Reasons Why Wee Wee's Dad, Leonard Litkovitz, is The Biggest Loser Dad

1.  Leonard's sperm donor dad sold him for a penny to get out of paying child support.
2.  Leonard abuses his Ativan anxiety medication because he over thinks everything, OCD.  Loser.
3.  Leonard isn't really a killer.  Wee Wee just makes him think he is.  
4.  Leonard can't discipline his own son.  (This one's borderline too.  It's hard to discipline a killer 
     ventriloquist dummy).
5.  Wee Wee video tapes his sexual encounters, so Leonard can spank his monkey while watching them.
6.  Leonard rationalizes his wife getting fucked by Wee Wee as karma for masturbating to online porn and
     Wee Wee's sex videos.
7.  The kids at Leonard's junior high school throw there lunches at him, and an apple breaks his nose while
     giving his ventriloquist dummy act at the talent competition.  What a loser.
8.  Leonard can't hold a job.  (This one is borderline).
9.  Leonard doesn't know how to please his wife.  Maybe that's why Wee Wee boinks her.
10.  Leonard sucks Wee Wee's cock, and let's Wee Wee cum in his mouth.  It's not what you think?

And there you have it, folks.

Get your copy of Wee Wee's World now.  It'll make you shit.

- Greg Groovie

10 Reasons Why Wee Wee is The Friendliest Killer Ventriloquist Dummy You'll Ever Meet

Why Wee Wee is the Friendliest Killer Ventriloquist Dummy You'll Ever Meet?

1.  He pleases convalescent men and women before euthanizing them.  What a dummy.
2.  He gives Leonard's wife a courtesy fuck in front of him.  What a dummy.
3.  He frees a spirit from Leonard's spirit portal painting.  What a dummy.
4.  He takes his sister to her prom.  What a dummy.
5.  He kills all the students at his sister's prom for embarrassing her.  What a dummy.
6.  He teaches Pierre, the spirit, how to do an awesome moon walk.  What a dummy.
7.  He cuts Leonard's hand off to teach him a valuable lesson not to over think.  What a dummy.
8.  He kills pigs.  What a dummy.
9.  You wouldn't know the difference between the friendliest killer dummy and the meanest killer dummy.
10. He never takes a shit, which frees up the bathroom and saves toilet paper.  What a dummy.

Leonard is Wee Wee's Dad, in case you didn't know.

Wee Wee's World, because life's too short to hate the friendliest killer ventriloquist dummy.

Friday, July 28, 2017

Yes, Mr. Furie, I Stole Your Spirit Portal Painting, "Pierre" for My Book

That's Right, I Stole Greg Furie's "Pierre" Spirit Portal Painting for My Book

So what?  I pissed off this dude, Greg Furie.  What's he gonna do about it?  Nothing, that's what.

This guy is pissed off at the world because nobody believed in his spirit portal painting, "Pierre."  He did have the balls to ask $54 million for it.  Here's the press release from 2015.

I turned "Pierre" into a character in my book, Wee Wee's World.  It was too good an idea to pass up.  

In the book, Leonard paints the painting, "Pierre," and Wee Wee conjures the spirit out of it.  

Pierre does a mean moon walk and loves to kill.  I liken him to a sci-fi Iceman, Richard Kuklinski. Who is Richard Kuklinski?  The Iceman, baby.

Hey, I did Furie a favor.  He wanted $54 million for "Pierre."  In Wee Wee' World, it sold for $1 billion at Sotheby's.

There's your 15 minutes of fame, Mr. Furie.

- Greg Groovie, Author of Wee Wee's World

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

I Wrote Wee Wee's World for Me, Not You

It Makes No Difference to Me What You Think About My Book

Why did I write Wee Wee's World?  I wrote it for my benefit.  I could care less if I sell one copy.  Because the real reward was in the writing of the novel, not the acceptance of it.

I had personal reasons for writing it that had nothing to do with how popular it becomes.

So basically, all these posts and all the marketing I've done for the book is a bunch of bullshit.

I wrote Wee Wee's World because I was tired of all the shitty movies on TV and all the shitty novels that aren't worth opening one page to read, even novels written by famous writers like Stephen King.

To me, Wee Wee's World blows away anything written by Stephen King.

And do you know what?  My opinion is the only one that matters.

There's no way you can refute that.  And that's the truth.

Greg Groovie

"I'd Love to Feel Your Lips Wrapped Around My Cock," Is This Why My Press Release was Declined?

1888PressRelease - Your press release "Greg Groovie Makes No Apologies for His Offensive Psychological Dark Horror Novel, Wee Wee's World" has been declined

I recently submitted a press release for my book Wee Wee's World.  It got declined.  Why?  I have my suspicions.  Maybe it wasn't newsworthy or formatted wrong.  Maybe I listed it under the wrong category. 
No, I think it was probably because of my quote from the book, "I'd love to feel your lips wrapped around my cock."  That's newsworthy, isn't it?  

Read the Press Release Here.

Let me me know why you think the release was denied because I really have no idea.

Here it is:

Greg Groovie, Author of Wee Wee’s World, makes no apologies to anybody including minorities, LGBT’s, and the elderly for the highly offensive content in the psychologically damaging dark horror comedy novel.  Oh yeah, this is definitely newsworthy.

Groovie wrote the novel because he got tired of the same old boring regurgitated shit he keeps reading in other novels.  “Too much detail, and not enough story,” Groovie said. 

Here’s a statement that Groovie made about the book:

“Wee Wee's World is a psychological horror novel about the relationship between Leonard Litkovitz and his killer ventriloquist dummy son, Wee Wee.  When writing this novel, I wanted to write something that stood out from all the other meaningless drivel that is out there.  This story cuts right to the chase and doesn't hold anything back.  It is irreverent, offensive, immoral, and downright filthy in some areas, but I make no apologies for it.  If you don't like it, piss off.  Otherwise, enjoy the ride.”

“Now I know that sound kind of harsh, but keep in mind that this is a horror novel, so you should expect those things mentioned above.  There’s a lot of spontaneous humor that goes along with the offensive content too,” says Groovie.

Early in the book there’s a chapter about a homosexual who tries to get Leonard to give him a blow job.  He says to Leonard, “I’d love to feel your lips wrapped around my cock.”  Groovie interjects, “Does that statement sound familiar, all you homos?”  Leonard reacts by stabbing the faggot’s penis until it’s shredded beef.  Groovie adds, “I hate to say this, but let’s call a spade a spade.  If a homosexual can take another man’s package in his rear end, how’s it possible that anything I write about could be offensive?  I mean, chances are, if you’re homosexual you or one of your friends probably rubbed your leg against some poor bastard’s leg in a Jacuzzi who’s having an identity crisis, am I right?  And you probably tried to take advantage of him.  Am I right?  Of course I’m right?  It’s human nature.  Look, I have nothing against homosexuals.  I have friends who are homosexual.  No problem, just stay in your own lane.  To my credit, and I don’t need to add this, but when I was younger I had a bad experience with a homosexual.  I had an identity crisis at the time and got taken advantage of.  Don’t worry, I take responsibility for the part I played.  Anyway, I turned that experience into a chapter in the book.  No hard feelings, right?”

Just to show that Groovie is impartial to homosexuals, in the latter part of the novel, Wee Wee invites Leonard into a dream.  A group of elderly men and women in their 80’s and 90’s are circled around Wee Wee.  They’re all in wheel chairs.  It’s Wee Wee’s make a last wish foundation, and these elderly folks made this last wish:  Before getting euthanized by Wee Wee, each person gets to suck his 10” schlong.  “Dr. Kevorkian would have been proud of that chapter.  My intent is not to offend elderly folks.  Heck, maybe you’d like a chair in Wee Wee’s circle when it’s time to make your last wish,” added Groovie.

Groovie finished with this comment.  “You’ll find the offensiveness against more minorities when you read the book, but take it lightly.  It is a horror novel, after all.  You can get your copy of it at Amazon, Kindle, or Goodreads.  And remember, don’t lose your sense of humor.”

And that’s a wrap.

Sunday, July 23, 2017

My Name is Ildo, But You Can Call Me Dildo

Ildo, Dildo, I Don't Care

Ildo is an old friend of Leonard's from the Middle Ages who shows up in Leonard's dreams.  Ildo tells Leonard who he is to kill next.  (Leonard is Wee Wee's dad).

The problem is that Ildo is an illusion.  

Wee Wee is pissed off because Leonard left Wee Wee in the attic for 20 years, so he makes Leonard believe that Ildo is an executioner friend of his.

Back in the day, Leonard made fun of Ildo by calling him Dildo.

That's it.

What did you expect?  A long dissertation about Dildos? 

It's Sunday.  Go back to bed.

10 Things Wee Wee's World Won't Do For You and 1 Thing It Will

10 Things Wee Wee's World Won't Do For You

1.  It won't make you a better salesman/saleswoman.
2.  It won't cure your depression.
3.  It won't make you a better person.
4.  It won't make the world a better place.
5.  It won't make you a better lover.
6.  It won't inspire you to reach your goals.
7.  It won't make you smarter.
8.  It won't make you want to purchase a ventriloquist dummy, so you can have a son.
9.  It won't motivate you.
10.  It won't make you say, "Wow, that was a great book."

1 Thing It Will Do For You

1.  It'll set you back $9.99

Purchase your copy here Wee Wee's World.

Saturday, July 22, 2017

ANNABELLE: CREATION: The Comments Posted are Way Better Than The Trailer

I Think The People Commenting on Annabelle:  Creation Should Make The Next Sequel.  It Would Probably Be A Kick Ass Movie

You've got to go to this you tube link to watch the trailer for Annabelle:  Creation.

The trailer is ok, but what really caught my interest are the comments about the trailer and the previous Annabelle movies.

Personally, I think the commentators should get together, and make the next Annabelle movie.

Many of these comments are humorous, and ironically, I think humor is the one main ingredient missing in this movie.  Imagine that.

I'm going to post some of the comments below, but I'd like to make one point very clear.  I could go to many, if not all, psychological horror trailers, and do the same thing I'm doing here.

The problem with "Hollywood' is that it thinks the only way to make money from a movie is to increase the special effects, and go over board with editing.  It's like the story is at the bottom of the list of importance, even in books.

And then I paid close attention to the comments under this trailer.  They're fucking funny and would most likely add a lot to the story line.

I have a good idea.  Why don't producers and studios put out a trailer before a movie is made.  That way, they can incorporate some of the brilliant commentary into the movie that's under the movie trailer.

Food for thought, isn't it?

"Can't fucking wait!! Always wanted to fuck annabelle wait wut?"

"Why it's R rated??? what's wrong with Hollywood"

"Annabelle vs Chucky: Civil War"

"Rated R for Retarded!"

"i hope Pinocchio will be in this movie"

Maybe Annabelle should've gotten fucked in this sequel.  Maybe the father had a hard on for demonic dolls and likes to fuck them doggystyle.

A cameo by Pinocchio would have been hilarious.  Maybe he could of fucked Annabelle.

Anyway, I'd be stupid if I didn't endorse my new psychological horror novel, Wee Wee's World.  It's loaded with spontaneous humor, and when it's time to make a movie, I'll be more than happy to put up a trailer for comments before the actual movie comes out.

- Greg Groovie

Friday, July 21, 2017

I Laugh at Stephen King Novels Because Wee Wee's World is The King of Psychological Horror!!!

Nothing Comes Remotely Close to The Psychological Horror Novel, Wee Wee's World

Have you ever noticed how movies based on Stephen King novels are always better than the novels he writes?  Well I have.

Listen, I'm not gonna bore you with a bunch of bullshit.

All I want to say is that Wee Wee's World is the Arnold Schwarzenegger of psychological horror novels.

I don't need to link up to it.  You'll find it.

You've never read a psychological horror novel until you've read Wee Wee's World.

Yeah, I know you think you're a book connoisseur.  Good for you.

I know you love lots of details, and read what everybody else is reading.  It's called the Herd Theory.

You're a cow going in the same direction all your buddies are going in.

Hey, there's nothing wrong with that.  Do yo thang.

But don't you ever tell me that Wee Wee's World isn't the greatest psychological horror novel of all time.

It's the Muhammad Ali of psychological horror novels.

Now fuck off, and enjoy your evening.

- Greg Groovie

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Let's Face It; All's We Really Want is to Eat, Sleep, Feel No Pain, Have Sex, and Kill People

Let's Be Real for A Change

The only thing we really want in life is to eat, sleep, feel no pain, have sex, and kill people.  

Think about it for a minute.  Then tell me I'm wrong.

Sure, we need to take a shit, talk, fart, work, watch TV, work out, and drive our cars.

But when it comes down to what we want, it's to eat, sleep, feel no pain, have sex, and kill people.

Now you can eat whatever you want, you can sleep as many hours as you want, and theirs plenty of medicine to feel no pain.  And sex?  It's not something you need to do if you think about it.  No, you want to get your rocks off because it feels so good.

And what's the one thing we can't do, but desperately want to do?  Well that's kill people.

Why don't we kill people?  Because we think we'll get caught, and we don't want to spend the rest of our lives in jail.  Not that that is what would happen if you killed somebody, but just the thought of the worst possible scenario prevents us from doing the dirt deed.

Before I get to deep philosophically,  I found out something about myself after writing Wee Wee's World.  I can live vicariously through Leonard and Wee Wee to satisfy my desire to kill.  Sure, it's not as good as the real thing, but what choice do I have?  That's not to say I still don't have a choice.  But it's fear that make us by books and watch movies about characters we wish we could be.  Put your ego aside.  You know I'm right.

Get your copy of Wee Wee's World here.  It's worth every fucking penny.   

Here's exactly why you need to buy the book:

Wee Wee's World is a psychological horror novel about the relationship between Leonard Litkovitz and his ventrilquist dummy son, Wee Wee.  When writing this story, I wanted to write something that stood out from all the other meaningless drivel that is out there.  This story cuts right to the chase and doesn't hold anything back.  I tis irreverent, offensive, immoral, and downright filthy in some areas, but I make no apologies for it.  If you don't like it, piss off.  Otherwise, enjoy the ride.

Greg Groovie

If You Don't Buy Your Copy of Wee Wee's World You're Going Against The Fucking Herd

Don't go against the herd.  Be a good little cow, and click the above link, and buy the book.

I know you can do it.

That's it.


My Critique of Roberta Smith's Review of Richard Gerstl and His Art

Read my entertaining article about Roberta Smith's art review of the brilliant Richard Gerstl