I can’t help feeling that Koons’ entire body of work is a brilliant, decades long prank, and on his deathbed he’ll be laughing his ass off that the art world actually fell for it.
“They actually hung those photos of me fucking my porn star wife! Ha! I thought I had pushed it too far with the giant chrome inflatable rabbit, but no. What do I have to do? Shit on a paper plate and call it art?”