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So you're young, you're an innovative thinker, and you've
just sold your start-up for $100 million...
A life of leisure isn't an option: if you were the sort who enjoyed the wreckless inertia of marathon sunbathing, you wouldn't have made that $100 million in the first place. Religion? Unlikely. Only a rare few are willing to accept the demotion from CEO to God's humble servant on a long-term basis. Philanthropy? Sure, that'll work for a few years, but really, how many lost pet database systems and libraries devoted to early English female novelists can you establish before you start itching for the relevance of commerce again? Tarry too long as an altruist, and they'll start lampooning you in Honda commercials...
Sooner or later, you're bound to start thinking start-up again. Unfortunately, even the amperage the riskiest entrepreneurial idea can generate has little effect when you're insulated by a cool $100 million. But what if you threw art into the mix? Performance art, to be exact. And not the naked, screaming, poorly financed kind, either. The Jeff Koons kind. The Mark Kostabi kind. Performance art with a budget. Performance art with a business plan...
What if you took a product--an essentially unnecessary commodity, say, like makeup--and marketed it in the crassest, most intentionally offensive way possible, all in the name of condemning the capitalist system that led to your premature superfluousness?
Well, then you would probably be the genius who answers to the name "Sandy Lerner."