The Wanky Art of Not Being an Arty Wanker

It has come to my attention that a great deal of my considerable mental powers are expended fending off the thought that I might be an arty wanker. It's not something I confront directly, but once in a while I'll become conscious that I'm deliberately not mentioning something in case it gives the wrong impression. Mostly, however, I'm not even aware that I'm doing it.

So I think it's time to hitch our trousers, roll up our sleeves and spit in our hands before rubbing them together (not too much spit or rubbing) in order to take this question on and sort it out once and for all: AM I A PRETENTIOUS ARTY-FARTY WANKER?

The evidence in favour:

1. I am currently listening to the avant-garde piano sounds of Erik Satie on my work computer(http://www.af.lu.se/~fogwall/intro.html), when I could be listening to something that ROCKS! HARD!
2. If I were to switch tunes, there is a strong possibility that I would go for an obscure electronic outfit which is really just a guy with a Mac in his bedroom making bleeps and sonic squiggles that sound chaotic and randomly assembled. You know, arty music. Perhaps from Iceland.
3. I have attended the openings of every show put on by the Australian Ballet in Melbourne this year. And thoroughly enjoyed it.
4. I have a painting by Brueghel as the backdrop to this blog.
5. I have several paying jobs, every single one linked to the Arts in some way.
6. I just capitalised the word Arts without even thinking.
7. I have been to shows that I knew I would not enjoy, simply to know that I had seen them.
8. I have had three coffees before 11am, and am considering another.
9. I live in Melbourne.

That's all I can think of for the moment.

I now present the evidence against:

Let the jury decide.