Modern art? 'Modern Shart' more like...

Bloody hell, is this something I could go on and on and on about. I won't though. I promise. (Sorry, I was crossing my fingers. First school pupil behaviour for the win.) First things first, if you don't know what a 'shart' or 'sharting' is, I suggest you look it up on http://www.urbandictionary.com/ and have a quiet little snigger to yourself, like a little child. Go on. Informed? Excellent, let's begin. Modern art is a hopeless excuse for art. Now I'm no artist myself, and I'm never going to claim to being an art critic or expert. In this case I certainly can't be something that I'm blatantly not. After all, you can't polish a turd. Will Shakespeare's words, no? For me, a personal achievement art wise is successfully drawing a stick man. Oh yes, I've screwed those up before, and no I'm not proud of it. Able to come out with high class critique I am not, but I can still use a combination of my eyes and innate common sense to determine whether something required much skill to make. Proper art, in all its forms except one, such as paintings or sculptures, takes skill. A hell of a lot of it.  Patience, too. Modern art though? I find it nearly indescribable. It's just surreal. My initial reaction to seeing a piece of so called 'modern art' is 9 times out of 10, something along the lines of 'What the fuck is that?!'. Or if I'm tired, it'll be a simple facial expression of disgust. Maybe even a hand gesture. By all means challenge me on this claim, but I truly believe that even I could make myself a sweet fortune with modern art. You've just got to get lucky, and then make up a particularly wordy back-story to the obviously hideous shit-pile that you're championing. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I think I should give up college, put everything down that I'm doing and just let my creative juices flow. By this I mean, bodily juices. All of them. I'll find a nice large canvas, place it on the floor and proceed to shit, piss, bleed, vomit, ejaculate, sneeze, salivate and maybe even ooze pus onto it. I'll then pick up a stick, swirl it all around a bit, and hey presto/viola - you've got some bloody brilliant modern art right there. I'll call it 'The embodiment of bodily fluids'. Then all I've got to do is say how it perfectly stimulates the feelings of deep emotional troubles in a person, while at the same time displaying delicate hints of hope and happiness in the face of extra-terrestrial repression. And that the colour scheme gracefully reflects the notion of feeling too hungry to eat any more, but then desperately wanting to eat more of that food in a couple of hours time, when it's too late and the food is unobtainable. As an added note, I'd also like to say that I love how the intricate swirl trails left by the stick, symbolise undying passionate love for a family pet who's facing impending death. Something along those lines, methinks.  It'll be such a hit, surely? From what I've cannily observed, no skill is required to earn a crust (or a million of 'em) through producing and selling modern art, so surely I'll be successful? I know I'm right. I'm not being arrogant, I'm just looking at the precedent that's been set, and coming to the plainly obvious conclusion that my work can in some (sick and twisted way) be regarded as artistic genius. Takes a lot of thought, planning, and skill, that does. There's NO WAY that it's merely a case of the system being fucked up...