There is, next to the kitchen phone, a plastic cup that is full of pens and pencils. The problem is, they are, and have been as long as I can remember, 100% defective (save for one, as I found out this morning). However, years and years of hunting for something to write with in the cup of false-pens, when pressed to write down a phone number or some other telephone-conveyed information, have not yet sunk in. Literally every time I'm on the phone and need to write something down, I check the cup of false-pens, and find only false-pens.
Allow me to photo-document before delving into the underlying philosophy.
Above: here you see the cup of false-pens in its natural habitat. Perhaps some of the falseness of the pens and pencils is alluded to, but one might still think to check it for a working writing utensil.
Above: the contents of the cup of false-pens -- the false-pens themselves. From left-to-right, we see four broken pencils, a nail-file, an extremely light-turquoise colored pencil, a dried-up pen, another broken pencil, another dried-up pen, a highlighter marker, and a yellow colored pencil.
Now, the question is: what is going on here? The cup of false pens gives us a good opportunity to exam the phenomenon of something like entropy. When something is useful, like a pen that works, an unbroken pencil, or a colored pencil that doesn't produce writing that's too faint to see, one tends to use that thing. And, through that use, that thing is more likely, just as a matter of probability, to be misplaced, eventually, in the series of misplacements, ending up in one of the repositories of misplaced things (under the couch, under the bed, behind the desk, in someone else's pocket, etc). On the other hand, when something is broken or otherwise useless, it gets put back in the same place, after a brief examination to determine that it's not functional. This process, over years and years, leads to things like the cup of false-pens.
This seems to be a phenomenon analogous to entropy or signal-decay. Maybe the key to fighting entropy and-signal decay is preservation. If a proactive interest had been taken over the years in preserving a functional cup of pens next to the phone (including both resource-investment in acquiring new pens and care of the old pens), then the cup of false-pens might have been a cup of real-pens. In the hypothetical process of pen-preservation, one might endeavor to replace a functional pen in the cup when finished with it, so as to avoid the mad search for a writing utensil that takes place every time someone gives some information to write down over the telephone.
I'm going to leave the cup of false-pens next to the phone, as a dada/Fluxus performance piece. You can come see it Sunday through Tuesday (closed Mondays). Admission is $5. Restrooms, cafeteria, and gift shop are available during normal museum hours.
Above: an unbroken pencil, found among the false-pens. This represents the hope for the resolution of entropy and nihilism. Of course, I took it out of the jar of false-pens, because a useful unbroken pencil needs to be separated from the use;ess false-pens, so it will be easier to find and available for easy visibility and grabbing. It's anyone's guess what's going to happen to this unbroken pencil in 3-6 days (hint: it's not in the cup by the phone, and it will be heavily used).