THE MONEY AND THE TALENT

by Arne Weingart

 

You may have grown up thinking you were one thing
or the other but at some point you have to decide,

really decide which it is you bring to the table, and
pardon me if I ask but whose table is it and where does it,

so to speak, reside and what shape—if it has a particular
shape—is it and who decided that was OK, if you catch

my drift? The saddest thing—I mean the absolutely
saddest thing—is when the money secretly thinks

it may be—no, who are we kidding, must be—the real talent
and that everyone else is kissing the talent’s ass

just to make it feel better because after all we need
someone to take the blame that talent always takes

when things go south. Things go south a lot in the
talent business. The second saddest thing is when

the talent tries to be the money and may even succeed
at being the money for a while, but all it takes is one

fuck-up for everyone to say what they always say
which is that sure, talent can pretend to be the money

but only the money is always and forever the real money.
Sometimes the talent is happy because no matter what the

contract says you can’t buy talent. You can pay talent but
you can’t buy it, if you know what I mean. And sometimes

the money gets to be happy because it knows it can always
retire in a place with a fantastic view and pretend to be the talent.

 

 

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