As
though the list of horrors for that year weren't long enough already,
Andy Warhol was shot by Valerie Solanas multiple times on June 3,
1968.
Ms.
Solanas wrote something called the “S.C.U.M. Manifesto,” the
opening sentence of which was:
“Life
in this society being, at best, an utter bore and no aspect of
society being at all relevant to women, there remains to
civic-minded, responsible, thrill-seeking females only to overthrow
the government, eliminate the money system, institute complete
automation and destroy the male sex.”
What
was it? The “Society for Cutting Up Men?” I think that was it.
It
reads a lot like satire, doesn't it? Or maybe a parody of feminism written by
someone who believed that feminism was a joke. It seems, however,
that the woman was being completely serious, or as serious as a crazy
woman can be. The way that she shot poor Andy was no joke, that's for
sure. She really let him have it, multiple gunshots to the upper torso.
He was lucky to live through it, or perhaps that's a question that I
am not qualified to answer. One thing I will say with confidence:
it's a minor miracle that he survived.
She
also wrote some other things, which one may be forgiven not to have
noticed. Her other works include a play called, “Up Your Ass.”
(Written 1965. Produced in San Fran, 2000. Available now on Kindle.)
Being crazy, and in light of the fact that her super-sincere attempt
to kill Andy failed, she was remanded to the custody of a mental
health facility. She was released a few years later, and honestly I
don't have the heart to discover what the rest of her life was like.
I might discover that she is still alive, and I'm not sure how I
would feel about that.
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