Chapter III : Tahini Is Thicker Than Blood

Keywords: fake beard&wigs, spy, secret agent, defector, sunglasses, radicalism, alienation, party, pathological lying


The multidisciplinary work is a fictional tale about alternative possible future where secret agents of certain unintelligent nationalistic countries have decided that they need to squeeze some secret lemon on their tabouleh as the big boys are getting more and more naughty around the table on shared feasts. The action of inquiry is based on pathological lying and unbalanced power structures where one knows more than other and the one is willing to use other as a tool for his or her own personal needs using methods like extortion and tattle telling,. This exploitative action has widely been accepted in the world of curiosity cabinets and due its normalising aura this work is initiated and commissioned by Spanish Inquisition and uprising of the steady thought conservative jam conserving movement.


The work is part of Sweet Return to Middle Ages collection and shall be eternally hidden from the curious eyes of englightened false speakers. “He is right, but right is wrong.”, someone once said before it was too late.

Project proposal for Juan Gomez Alemán, LA JUAN GALLERY

Ex-president of Israeli Secret police, Kyösti Cohen, has betrayed his country and escaped to Spain. He holds a long time lost evidence about most horrifying terrorist attack in the human history of terror. The information he is about to reveal is the scriptures about the case: Sampo שמש Sammas Shemesh - Towards the New Temple, where confused and delusive Finnish eco-terrorist Aya Hauska tries to terrorise everyday life of Israel by planting a tree in Jerusalem in good faith to give a birth to a new religion. According to Fritz Basel, 99-year old creationist scientist from Switzerland, everything is still ne in Israel and the sediments of the great flood can be still found, if eyes are kept happily closed, although the terrorist attack was seriously affecting the local biodiversity causing a birth to a new form of psychosis. Most of the authorities are still asleep.

The scriptures are about to be displayed for the first time in its exhaustive authority near Spanish secret police’s favourite cantina. This incident serves as curious sneak peak into world and motives of a terrorist organisation. Nobody is sure whether this is just an exhibition or an attempt to recruit more members to a terrorist party or a trap by Spanish secret police to gather suspicious information about new possible radicals. And most of all nobody knows whether Kyösti is a secret agent spying Spanish assets or he is another con-artist with his Finnish business associate?



The gallery space will be furnished into a terrorist headquarters with green coloured balloons, camouflage, illegal amount of tahini, and proper propaganda audiovisual material. The scripture containing the research material of the events of Sampo שמש Sammas Shemesh - Towards the New Temple will be hung the walls. People are invited to join the terrorist party. Several related performances will be held during the exhibition.

[9:44:06 AM] APOL:


[9:51:23 AM] APOL: People can join various ways — they can join in many ways.

[9:52:04 AM] APOL: Organisation needs a lot of people

[9:52:22 AM] APOL: Big selfie with everybody

[9:53:49 AM] APOL: What happens when two hummous meet

[9:54:01 AM] APOL: Tahini is thicker than blood


[9:54:33 AM] APOL: :D

[9:54:39 AM] dan  allon: <3

[9:55:46 AM] APOL:

[9:56:32 AM] APOL: window painting

[9:56:34 AM] APOL: ?

[9:59:01 AM] APOL: we need you to fail with us

[10:00:01 AM] APOL: I just want to fail

[10:00:05 AM] dan  allon: IN MY LIFE

[10:00:08 AM] APOL: Im super radical

[10:00:12 AM] dan  allon: :D

[10:00:44 AM] dan  allon: the khalifat of failure

[10:00:59 AM] dan  allon: the sultan of failure

[10:01:06 AM] dan  allon: the sultans of failure

[10:01:15 AM] dan  allon: <3

[10:01:24 AM] APOL: pope of no hope

[10:01:41 AM] dan  allon: the dope of no hope

[10:01:45 AM] dan  allon: hahahaha

[10:01:53 AM] APOL: rabbies without trousers

[10:02:18 AM] dan  allon: rabbies with rabies

[10:02:47 AM] dan  allon: rabbies with rabbits

[10:03:03 AM] APOL: radical raddish

[10:03:06 AM] dan  allon: hahahahah

[10:03:17 AM] dan  allon: radical horseraddish

[10:03:31 AM] APOL: homous of hate

[10:03:45 AM] dan  allon: hummous of horror

[10:03:59 AM] APOL: tahini of danger

[10:04:17 AM] dan  allon: tahini of terror, hummous of horror

Bad Research reveals in its new guide: This is how you recruit an agent.

Bad Research explains just now in a new guide how to recruit an agent. Bad Research claims that it doesn’t use these methods.


According to Bad Research recruiting an agent is a process where specially uneducated intelligence officer tries after several design events to create a situation where recruitment finally happens and delivery of the classified information can begin.


There are six steps to recruit.


1. Analysis

Process begins with analysing the necessity for foreign intelligence inquiry. This is actually very unnecessary because there seem to be infinite need to spy what kind of underwear neighbours are using.


2. Identifying the target

Analysis reveals the target of inquiry. The target is a person who has either the necessary information or access to information. Or depending on the lifestyle of the agent the target could have a reputation for providing good times during this self-deceiting work trip that is based on total fiction and falsehood.


3. Person profile report

Selected person will be examined. His qualities, assets, weaknesses and economical and family situation is analysed to define what are the possibilities to make her to work for the foreign country. Usually the wrong person is selected, but it is hard to admit the failure.


4. Contact

If the intelligence officer feels that selected person is appropriate for recruitment, the contact will be made. The contact situation will be designed to look a spontaneous and natural situation, if we accept that the concept of natural is based on constant lying.


First meeting can happen for example in a sport event, work seminar or during leisure or hobbies. Coincidence don’t have part in meeting but instead it is carefully crafted and scripted based on the analysis made of target. Playwrights, designers, artists and actors are the best agents.


5. Friendship

After the first contact intelligence officer begins to develop a relationship with the target. During this phase a bond of friendship is created during which target is accustomed to harmless legal favours to deliver open data.


Usually at this point the target receives a lot of gifts and returning favours. Friendship can last several years during which the target’s suspicion lowers and eventually disappears. Everything that sounds too good must be too good.


6. Recruitment

On the last stage, intelligence officer sets the target in a situation where she is required to deliver classified and vulnerable material. This is usually the most difficult phase of the process for the both parties. After handing out the asked classified material, the target has become a spy for the foreign country intelligence services. So nice. Finally the truth is relieved.

Bad Research Chapter 3: Tahini Is Thicker Than Blood

A Three-day performance at LaJuanGallery, by Ari-Pekka Leinonen and Dan Allon

This performance is another multidisciplinary fictional story created by the performative duo Ari-Pekka Leinonen (Finland) and Dan Allon (Israel). While they use humor to create a fictional world, the story is highly influenced by current world events in a pursuit of seeing beyond preconceptions, and reveal a more complex narrative that can be more insightfully shown through means of art. The work does not offer a solution to problems, yet aims to evoke a discussion about the connection between tragic events, power struggles and privilege art making, and the role of humor in it.  

The performance will spread over three days – from Friday 19/5/2017 to Sunday 21/5/2017. The gallery would become a display for chapter 1 performed in Israel in 2016, and as well would be a habitat for the creation of chapter 3. 


  • Friday – “the birth of tahini”: The duo would perform as terrorists, convey interrogations and recruit the spectators into their new terror group. While their fellows wait on the top floor of the gallery, the duo would call them down one by one, into the unknown. After the formation of the group, in which participant would be given a simple assignment, there would be a Tahini party at the gallery, including Hebrew and Finnish music, food and balloons.

  • Saturday –“we don’t more people!”: The gallery would be open for visitors to watch the remaining of the party and chapter 1 as an exhibition on the top floor. Meanwhile, the duo would work on texts and letters, in order to reveal them to the spectators tomorrow!

  • Sunday – “a funeral: we admit nothing!”: The returning spectators would come back in order  to hear the texts written by the duo, now performing not only as terrorists but also as investigators trying to prevent terror! The audience is promised to be VERY SURPRISED!

Please mind that in order to enjoy and have a full experience, it is advised to attend at least twice, on Friday and on Sunday.


Friday: 21:00-23:00

Saturday: 10:00-20:00

Sunday: 15:00-17:00

Bad Research Chapter 3: Tahini Is Thicker Than Blood (Mala Investigación, capítulo 3: el Tahini es más denso que la sangre).
Una performance es tres días de Ari-Pekka Leinonen y Dan Allon.


Esta performance is otra ficción multidisciplinary creada por el duo Ari-Pekka Leinonen (Finlandia) y Dan Allon (Israel). A través del humor han creado un mundo ficticio, cuya historia está influenciada por eventos contemporaneos en busca de ver más allá de preconcepciones y revelar la complejidad narrativa, sobre la cual solo a través del arte se puede profundizar.

El trabajo no ofrece soluciones a problemas, aún así, busca invocar una discusión sobre la conexión entre eventos trágicos, luchas de poder y el privilegio de producir arte, todo ello guiado por el humor.  

La performance se divide en tres capítulos, esparcidos en tres días:

Viernes 19: “el nacimiento del Tahini”. El dúo actuará como activistas, llevará a cabo interrogatorios y reclutará a los espectadores en su nuevo grupo terrorista. Mientras sus compañeros esperan en el último piso de la galería, el dúo los llamará uno a uno, hacia lo desconocido. Después de la formación del grupo, en el que el participante tendrá una asignación simple, habrá una fiesta Tahini en la galería, incluyendo música hebrea y finlandesa, comida y globos.

Sábado 20: “no necesitamos a más gente”. La galería estará abierta a los visitantes exponiendo los resultados de la fiesta y del capítulo 1. ¡Mientras tanto, el grupo activista creado el día anterior trabajará preparado el día siguiente!

Domingo 21: “no admitiremos nada”. Los espectadores volverán para escuchar los resultados de la misión del grupo…

La galería se convierte en el lugar para mostrar el capítulo 1 de la investigación del duo, iniciada en Israel en 2016, y el lugar donde concluirla el domingo con el capítulo 3.

Recuerda que para poder disfrutar totalmente de la experiencia, se recomienda atender al menos dos días:

Friday: 21:00-23:00
Saturday: 10:00-20:00
Sunday: 15:00-17:00

This is not poetry, it is a list.

Ruthless action in social media — Bad Research reveals how to make new friends

What is this all that you want me to take in?

Formation of the party.

Through these processes of recruitment we are able to become stronger.

We are waiting for you.

Tahini of Terror

The Birth of Tahini

On 19/5/17, 21:45, The terror recruitment party started

During the recruitment the organisation added MANY new members, who vowed by signing a cotract with Tahini


  1. Why do you want to join us / por qué quieres ser parte de nosotros? 

  2. What is failure? / Que es fracasar para ti?

  3. What is your motivation to join us / Cuales son tus motivos para unirte a nosotros?

  4. Can you give us names / Puedes darnos tus nombres?

  5. What is your fake identity / Cual es tu falsa identidad? 

  6. If you were we, what would you do with a terrorist like you / Si tu fueses yo que harías con un terrorista como tu?

  7. What is you method of terror / Cual es tu método de terror? 

  8. What do you find funny /Encuentras esto divertido? 

  9. How do you give birth to Tahini / Como llamarías al tallin?

  10. Are you ready to accept this bond / Estas preparado para aceptar este reto?





Nombre falso: ___________________________

Nacimiento: ___________________________


Quiero fracasar con vosotros!


Firma: _____________________________


Fecha _________________________________

Sunday – “a funeral: we admit nothing!”


1.) Tahini is over
2.) We run out of Tahini
3.) No more Tahini
4.) Tahini is the end

A short story By Nolla Nad

This has to end now. Too much tahini over one night is too much. Too much is too much. Being extreme gets out of hands. There flies the glove and the hand isn’t following. Why am I still alive? These hallucinations are too much. Every morning I wake up to do this same thing. I mobilize the gravel on the street and smoke imaginary cigarette. I drink coffee made with pressure. It pressures me. I imagine drinking hot tar. Anyway I imagine everything to be malice fairy tale that predicts future among gray every day. My time is so alien to me. Therefore I play this game. I enter my office and lift my legs on the table. I go through the messages and move my hat away from my eyes. The first customer comes in. Dusty daylight seizes the moment at shadows of the wall. I wish these walls would convince my customers to consider my life to be authentic, and rugged existence between law and outlaw. I know that I am nothing. My appearance, my profession, my habits are only a scene, which allows me somehow to deal in social situations. Once I took this role, I have to play it until the end. I cannot quit, once I have started. Now I couldn’t care less about this case. I look through her eyes without seeing anything. She speaks to the deaf ears.

Dan Allon was one the best agents that Israeli intelligence services had ever witnessed over the forty years of service. He seemed completely innocent, modest and quiet, but talkative if the situation demanded it from him. If you would see him on the street, you didn’t want to do anything else, but say hello and lift his hat from the street, if it had fallen down for some reason. All the elder women give him constantly pocket money, sweets, greasy pastries in reward of those warm smiles that he grants to his fosterers. There was word on the street about his determined and brisk attitude towards working from morning until night without his concentration being distracted with earthly temptations. His ability to use money was astonishing. Economic theorists used him often as a tool for their research. The president of Israel listened to his opinions every other night about global matters, upcoming zatar plant irrigation timetables, and for example when it was considerable time to cut the hair. He also had straight connections to the prime minister and his cellphone was basically glued to his ear as the lost members of parliament where constantly asking direction at the corridors of parliament house. He had designed and built the new bomb avoiding parliament house and knew very well the hidden pipelines. The pipes were transmitting spring water that had been drilled just yesterday and had a quality to increase the time being awake. Since inventing the new calendar, the length of a day became 45 hours from which the time used for work will be designated in periods of two years.

The new flow diagram that convinced the designers of previous to change their style, made it possible to exchange messages even more cheaper and faster decreasing the necessity to converse to the minimum. Dan ran three times a day to open the door, when the security guard had forgotten the key and knocked three times the hood with his flashlight. The hard knocks on the metal surface provoked the think thank to question the predominant well-hatched thought and it was important to pull back swiftly the earlier mistake. The hole was dug; the pile of soil waited around the hole its work shift to begin. While the shovels were clinging under the midday sun, two of the workers chained to each other incidentally hit the rustiest part of chain thus liberating themselves only to tell their supervisor that the chain broke down. The supervising officer of course couldn’t understand why just right now when the sun hits the zenith; all of this has to occur when the thought had already slipped away towards more restful landscapes. As the moment was resting Dan could for the first time in her long career to have permission to look herself from the different perspective. The image was pleasing. The gray shoes had street stains, green pants were telling what he had eaten yesterday, under the t-shirt rested well-eaten satisfied brains. Sometimes it just feels right to take a spoon to one’s hand and pour some pudding to the mouth. Maybe it is a way to understand what it is like to be something else than Dan.

Three years ago I was Dan. For three years I was Dan for them. They were me. They had all power over me. I felt colossally good. They gave me everything. They took me. I gave Dan to them. They made me to be Dan. The one I was was erased. Who was Dan before Dan? He wasn’t the one whose glance was commanded, whose ears were made to hear and the body to function according the finest predesigned details. I got punishment from them. Under the joy of their punishment I won’t be punished ever again. I follow their rule and I am safe. They are good for Dan. Dan is a kind boy. Dan does everything right. Dan makes sure that everything goes right. Dan is normal. That is what they gifted me with. I know how to avoid the other side. There are only two options. Thinking is much more easier. Life is much more easier. I want that they reach down to you all. Abandon your head under their wisdom. My life is three years, my whole life. There is nothing else. There is only instructions and order, which they gave me. I love them.

I loved that being. My hands slipped through it as it disappeared. It was everywhere, but my hands where never there, where it was. I heard and saw you everywhere, but you were still so distant although you lived in me. You had occupied my head. You started to sabotage the electricity network and controlled my television to your desired channels. I pulled off the plug, but you were running on solar power. Radio was broadcasting non-stop. You made sure that I was disconnected to my environment. You opened me for virtual reality. I wear the glasses for you.

She wore the sunglasses and left the room. Her shortsightedness made her collide with pile of cardboard boxes. The sound of hammering came though the roof. I lifted my plastic revolver on the table and swept away sweat from my forehead. Time was ticking on the wall. The bell rang three times on the doorway. Postman brought the daily news. I threw them away. I am tired of reading about yesterday. I am always five years ahead of time in the future. I live in a world that I can create by myself with my own rules. That is what I like. I copied this idea from a friend who died. I know how to steal from others. I wore my overcoat to fly like a ghost to the meeting place. One food smuggler had seen another stuff hustler bringing hot forbidden tahini from an area that only the toughest of tough can name out loud. The origins, funding, creation process, and how many beings and in which way they have been extorted were complete mystery. The stuff just arrived to the country while the authorities looked other way. The stuff moves on the conveyor belt, they see it arriving, when it is supposed to be inspected, they turn their head other way. The stuff ends up at the loading platforms and it is lifted to a cart. A donkey transports the cart to the most regular part of town, where the stuff is opened and examined. As the quality has been accepted, the stuff will be divided in portions, and distributed among various operators. The donkey is sent back to import department while the inspectors vanishes to local cafeterias. Everything functions like a well-tuned machinery. Every part knows its place. Every part knows its role. They know, that someone else knows, but it isn’t worth telling about this knowledge. Everything happens in silence. In extreme silence. The words are swallowed along with breahs. Eyes will be closed and the memories will be erased. Nothing happened. Nobody was anywhere. It was an ordinary day. Everything happens within the scenery. Nobody looks outside. There is no need. Everything works.

Dan sees everything. Dan knows everything. Not a single sound will be left unheard from Dan. Dan smells together with village dogs. Dan will taste, if you just offer a taste. Dan knows you already now, as you are thinking about Dan. Dan is here. Dan is there. Dan moves and stops. Dan is within you. You are Dan. Dan is everything. Our mutual understanding creates Dan. Dan is created together. You created Dan. Dan is yours. You were Dan. Dan brought you this and you accepted that. You came to Dan and Dan accepted you. You together created all where to lean against. If you wouldn’t lean, you would fall into Dan’s arms. If you wouldn’t create the handlebar, you wouldn’t lean. There wouldn’t be need to lean against. But still we lean against. We lean against everything. Everything is that we are hesitating not to accept. Somehow we acknowledge its existence, but still we don’t pay much attention to it. Maybe it is unnecessary, because there are so many other things competing from our attention. How we use our time takes time. Thinking too much about it takes time away from our hands. So put the time into your pocket and follow it. Don’t forget to. Take your cargo to right place in predesigned way and sign the transaction to be done, keep silent about it and carry on working. Don’t think for whom or for what reason and what consequences might your actions cause. Don’t waste your time on such. They are things that are hard to understand. Concentrate on something else. Focus on honorable performance.

The performance happened on designated time. It took one hour during which a being that lost all oft its power and faced its end while being satisfied with fat to accomplish the required extra task. Basically everything was completely futile, but somehow it made sense that everything should be performed in that manner. Every detail was written down on a separate form. Second by second predetermined spatial markings on their mind the movement was accomplished by following the out bursting peak of statistic curve in a two dimensional plane. Especially the other from the duo received a lot of attention with his preciseness and saint like seriousness, while the other was fooling around with food and taking the role official court jester in this isolated kingdom. They were selected randomly among all others and they were prescribed to collaborate. Alone they were too confused and afraid to express their distorted worldview. After intertwining their histories into one, they approached certain instances in order to express their will to inform their personal preferences through utilizing actions that separate and underline functions of body and mind, where a group of similar beings receive their desired entertainment that can be later discussed among similar slime organisms. Every action provoked speech. Every speech provoked action. Everything obviously seemed to impact everything. Promoting a single thing seemed impossible. There was strong need to become aware about surrounding environment, the invisible forces that were visibly functioning there and to put each blink of an eye into perspective along with the motion that reveals the oblivious. One just couldn’t take matters as they appeared.  There were definitely more than two perspectives. Someone else was always beyond everything. There was always someone else in a subordinate position in comparison to the slime that your being was leaving behind. It was impossible to understand or to even talk about it. It needed to be expressed with different vocabulary than ordinary hellos and goodbyes. How on earth I could tell you, how wrong you are? Somebody told me that and now I just can’t return to the beginning, I’ve come so far. Either I don’t want to you this deep, where I can see beyond everything if I just dare. I know fiction and live fiction. Among fiction my new ignorance is learning diplomacy so that at least a certain rational state of matter could be possible without believing too much on the sacredness of my actions.

I think the man is insane. The whole case is nuts. Why on earth you want to eat yourself to death? Or was this just a failed attempt to smuggle product internally from one country to another. What power makes a being to swallow kilos of product in order to provide pleasure for others to enjoy the product that otherwise would be impossible. In what kind of certainty this being accepts, who takes the position of a mule? So many questions and so much sunlight. I miss my dark basement office. I want to grow moldy and be destroyed along with the world, but my obligation for my fictitious persona keeps me in light. The most mesmerizing is the amount of self-deceit that time reveals about you. You begin interrogating yourself and you tell a lie every second. Each and every answer is a lie for the sake of comfort. Comfort lives in you like a parasite telling you the preferred answers. Does each being live here in self-deceit. In my dark cave I forget that the lie is all over the place, the scenery is falling and I am what I am — keeper of the lie. He is crazy, if arguing that he tries to be honest to himself.

Dan never lied. He wasn’t aware what is lie and what is truth. They didn’t exist in his world. Things existed and he lived according to them. Everything he did and said was being. They were real. There was only one world. A world where thought and material reality walked side by side. Dan invented a story. There needed to be something more. There has to be some kind of unknown tension. There was something that we were not able to explain, but as we stepped into a queue of a next person to explain what it could be, we managed to decipher our predictions. Fiction and lie stepped down in front of us. We can’t imagine, if we don’t invent the untruth. Dan doesn’t know what exists in your head. You don’t know what is inside Dan’s head. Let Dan tell us.

My name is Dan. I work as a contact person between Central Intelligence services of United States of America and Israel government. My mission is to provide classified information undercover. As an international artist I give impression of myself as a funny performer and multidisciplinary artist as I travel to different countries to exhibit my drawings, tell my history and to modify mutual conceptions according the narrative who I work for. Simultaneously I research everyday life and provide my insights to officials. By working in a grass-root level I become to understand different opposite opinions of activists that criticize current democratic ways of governing, and the mental space of work avoiders and other parasites of the society in order to provide precise analysis for authorities in order to ignite continuing treatment of the material to prepare themselves for possible uprisings or revolts that the ones who disagree with official narrative have been utilizing past years. I impress other people to believe that I am a nice thoughtful being, who is willing to dwell into long insightful conversations that tries to penetrate more deeply into my targets thoughts and the motives that affect them. Books, movies, fellow beings, cultural objects, theater plays, speeches, music and other propaganda material is the target of my inquiry and by getting to know all the material that tries intentionally widen perception of the world and thinking, I can inform them and they can sent to further investigation and processes. These objects are slowly moved away from sight, they are made to be forgotten, and eventually they are destroyed. They are replaced with material that my employer agrees with that simulates similar thought provoking alternative and critical style, but eventually provokes the experiencer to understand and to accept the current living conditions and its invariability in order to join the politically correct contentment. In other words, one is asked to accept the narrative of my employer. It is a slow process to mutate mental images. A lie requires skill, patience, and deviousness. It is the biggest art. If I don’t lie, I can’t survive. To be truthful is the biggest lie of them all, and the one who believes in that, the lie will laugh at one. I lie to project my fellow beings from the truth, which brought me to this grim profession and to my dark office. I wish I could fail.

Protection, storing, preserving. Consensus. Conservatism. An urge to conserve. An urge to accept. Interception. We have reached the point, where it is good to be. We don’t accept it to be transformed. We don’t want to know how it all began, and we don’t want to know how it will end. We don’t accept your story. You can leave. Keep your mouth shut. Your words are uncomfortable. Everything in you is uncomfortable. We don’t want your uncomfort. Comfort has been acquired and it is deserved. It is in the work. It is in the will. It is in the victory. It is ours. We don’t give it out. We will protect our thought about the world. We will hide it into deep hole in the ground. Every bearer of the information will take the secret with oneself. We hope that the future will be according to our thought that is our only believe. We born and we receive the information, we shelter the information and keep it in secrecy.

Why is bad art worse than fake terror?

an article by Atar Rodriguez - translated from Hebrew into English

More artists in the last years have tried to take methods from other disciplines in order to become rich and famous. For them to hit fame, they must be more like celebrities and less artistic. They make fake art and create fake news. Having this being a solid fact or only an interpretation, the public seems to have enough of that. 

The notion that one is enabled to obtain a fake identity in order to make money is ridiculous and harmful. The internet is full if these, and with them being so reliable, an average Joe just cannot tell the difference between real and fake identities anymore. Creating fake news / fake art is obviously dangerous: people might make decisions according to that. Try to imagine a prime minister elected under false pretenses or a UFO story. Wouldn’t that be crazy? 
Well, no so crazy. With the right appearance, accurate graphic design, images in the right size – all artistic practice, fake or real, look the same. Ordinary people, those who are busy pushing away all the visual information they are flooded with all day, just stand no chance. 

Wait, why are fake news dangerous?

When an ordinary person makes a decision, it affects the life of a nation. Can one have the right criteria to know if the person he or she is voting for is honest, and care for the benefit of the public? Are democracy, freedom, and restraint of power are cherished values for this person? Against those questions, the ordinary person faces a tsunami of information online, some is propaganda, and cannot make a real decision according to facts. This is more common in the last years.  Why is this dangerous? Just imagine the damage this person can make for a life of a nation, no to say a single person. This person, for instance, can appoint a Supreme Court judge who would make bad decisions for decades after that politician is long retired. 

Is this the right time for a party?

Party, by the way, in a double meaning. First, is it a time to throw a party? Second, is it a time to form a party? Having a good time is important. However, is it OK to make it to mock groups of people? Worse than that: what if the motivation for both types of parties is just to make two people rich and famous? During the third week of May 2017, Ari-Pekka Leinonen, a Finnish artist, and Dan Allon, an Israeli artist, formed a party in Madrid. It was a terrorist party. They recreated history in a rapid, twisted way, with failure written all over it. Is this the time for a party? Probably not. After speaking to some people that were present in the party, I have come to some disturbing conclusions. 

“We tried to run away, but the beat us, especially Ari-Pekka. They locked us in the gallery for hours”, told me L., which asked to remain anonymous. She works with children during the day, and study history at the local university. Instead of work, she had to go to the ER and spend hours there, after the artists at the gallery assaulted her. “They asked us pointless questions, and when we refused to answer, they beat us”, she said. She seemed fragile and restless, still scared. More people I spoke with confirmed her story. “They forced us to pay an entrance fee, eat horrible food and be photographed”. 

Who are the duo Bad Research? 

In order to understand the connection between fake news and fake terror, one must follow some basic guidelines. 

The first, the principle truth and false. Terror scares people into changing their life and habits. It affects innocent lives. Terror can come from guerilla groups or from states. It is the same. Fake news is a terror of the mind, affecting people in their decision-making. Art uses the same tactic. It provides narratives for artists, in order for them to praise on, use and make a career out of, while in reality all it does is repeating the same old record for them, telling them what they already know, like and would love to hear. It disguises itself to criticism, yet it reality it is more of the same. It is a privileged so-called criticism. Both art and terror, when are fake, they are by definition false. Both can cause trauma and pain, both can change life for the worse, both can fixate the human mind. 

The second principle is integrity. Publishing fake news, like making fake terror or a fake piece of art, is professionally irresponsible. Must one disguise as something he has not in order to gain fame? When people go see the new Tarantino movie, or listen to a Wagner opera, they have a set of expectations. It is immoral and unfair to break them. The worst thing that any of the three can do to a person is wasting his time. It is not about liking or not liking the artwork but in the absolute insult of wasting one’s time. Fake terror, like fake art, does that, and when making pointless jokes or questions, there is always the danger of wasting people’s precious time. 

Why would two young artists do that? Do they need the crutches of terror or news to become something they are not?  The recordings I received in the last days left me overwhelmed. The two artist are left with big debts and heard fighting, and in addition threatening the gallery owner, and admit in heavy usage of drugs. The fights were so loud, police came over more than once, and found many broken objects in the gallery. 

Is blowing up balloons art? 

In one of the recording Leinonen says to Allon, while both are sniffing cocaine that he wanted to be an artist when he was 18, yet while at art school he realized he was only going to be an apprentice, and will not make money. That feeling of failure accompanied him for years, and when he was deprived of credit for works he has done for others, he turned into fake terror to make a name for himself as an artist. “I want to appear as a potent artist, in order to make a name for myself”, he said. 

Another regular guest at the gallery said he was shocked to see them blowing up the balloons they put up themselves. “It looked like a police investigation, but they made all of it by themselves!” he said. “They seem insecure, and the blonde guy (Leinonen) seemed crazy, I was afraid of him”, said the guest. I tried to get a hold of the gallery owner, Mr. Gomez, but he refused to accept my calls. Is that a behavior of the place, which shows art?  Jamal, a local retailer, was insulted of the “privileged blonde guy”. He said he was selling Tahini for 35 years, and “they come over, the blonde guy makes fun of me, what’s funny about how I make a living?” he complained. 

I say – it is racist, it’s privileged, it’s not news, not news, not art and it’s certainly not funny!