Donuel: in the 'eighties I wrote a juvenile little Scots skit on how "Art" was plumbing new depths, and it included a verse which went something like (the "some" people in question were, as is probably obvious, "artists"):

   Indeed, there's some hae taen delight
   In boxes filled wi' cuddies' shite             (horse's)
   That steams, the gless aa beaded bright
             Wi' condensation:
   Then some puir eedjit critics write
             An Explanation.

Those were the days of the "H" Block faecal whorls, I guess.