"“Art and marketing can’t coexist,” Tina says. “It’s either one or the other.” “Not this again,” 6 says from the sofa. Tina ignores her. “I made the film for you with the intention of appealing to a bunch of corporate suits. That I used artistic techniques to do it is irrelevant.” “Just because it’s aimed at a particular market means it’s not art?” I say. Tina nods once. “Exactly.” I frown. “What if I take a work of art and market it? It’s still art, right?” “You can’t take artwork and just tweak it to be more commercially appealing.” She sips at her beer. “Not without destroying its artistic merit.” “Tina, this is so crap,” 6 says, standing up. “If I showed you a painting but didn’t tell you whether it was created by a starving artist or an agency commissioned to produce it, you couldn’t tell me whether it was art or not.” “Oh, I think I’d be able to tell,” Tina says. 6 shifts impatiently. “Who cares what the intent was? It’s the result that matters.” “The intent is not divorceable from the result,” Tina says. “I know you people don’t want to face that, but it’s true.” “You don’t want to face the fact that marketing is the greatest producer of art on the planet. There’s packaging, copy, TV advertising—can you tell me why that’s not art?” “If you can’t make that distinction yourself, I won’t be able to explain it to you.” “Oh, right,” 6 says, “you think some hack’s poems that no one ever reads are more important than movie half the world sees? A lot more people have seen a Coke can than a van Gogh.” “I’ve noticed you corporate people do this,” Tina says. “Confuse popularity with quality.” “It’s a democratic society, Tina,” 6 says. “Your opinion of what’s quality is no more valid than mine. Popularity is quality. And so marketers are today’s real artists.” “Drink, anyone?” I say."