Going down to Covent Garden today, and I’m fully expecting to run into more than a few of these ridiculous street performers.

So let me get this straight. You just sort of stand still, do you? And that’s it? That’s the sum total of your artistic pursuit, is it? Standing still for a while? Maybe posing a bit? Maybe covering yourself in white paint? Well blow me down if I don’t give you an Academy award on the spot for your breathtaking talent and originality.

Everywhere you go in Europe these days, from Liverpool to Lausanne, there are two things you’re bound to bump into sooner or later - a pan pipe outfit playing Simon and Garfunkel covers and a person pretending to be a statue on a box. And raking in cash from passers-by with more money than sense:

“Did you see that, honey?”

“What? What happened?”

“Over there, look. There’s a person spray-painted white and standing still“

“NO!”

“Yes! On a box! Genius“

“Quick, give him some money”

The person who figured out that you could make money out of standing still on a box was a blooming genius, for sure.

The funny thing is that all around them, there will be a mewing crowd of onlookers, watching. Watching something which is supposed to stand still. Watching in case in moves. The boring thing about actual statues is that they don’t move, they don’t fuck-up, because they’re made of granite or marble or some other non-moveable, non-sentient material. So in essence, the audience is not so much enawed of the stillness of the living statue but watching to see if they will blink, or breathe, or get pins and needles in their foot, or wobble on the pedestal. How cruel!

And then there are the robots. Don’t get me started on those poxy robots.