Take me to the Taliban, says Wilbanks 
I have done some pretty stupid things in my life. These instances started at an early age. An example is at age 5, when only a sliver of skin held the top of my right index finger together after I tried to stop a table saw fanbelt from turning round-and-round. Of course, the fanbelt won. I remarkably still have a finger, though a funky looking one. I’ve committed more stupid acts than the law allows. Sometimes, the law didn’t allow it.
But Jennifer Wilbanks–wow, she takes freaking out and stupidity then creates them into a full-blow media-event art form. Wilbanks skipped her wedding in Georgia then called her husband to tell him she had been abducted. She showed up in New Mexico, allegedly lied at first to authorities, then confessed to the FBI her disappearance had all been one big case of cold feet.
Her husband has told the press he still wants her as his wife. Authorities are considering how they might punish her for her stupidity, which no doubt included a lot of police overtime while searching back in Georgia for the woman.
I can only say, Jennifer, you really did a bone-headed, inconceivably stupid act of selfishness based upon self-doubt and a case of pre-wedding jitters. Does this make you a bad person? No. Does this make you someone I would want to marry? No. But I am also able to look upon the act of stupidity from an artistic point of view. And from that vantage point it was truly art, the art of screwing up.
Like a painting on some cosmic canvas, the art of screwing up is an act in which someone does something hideously stupid and that act lives on either through local lore or national media attention. Having your proposal on the Jumbotron at the baseball game turned down with your intended fiance throwing a beer in your face? Nah, that’s just a little bad luck. Getting drunk and running your car through the front doors of the police station? Yeah, that’s screwing up pretty big-time and is consequently art.
I can’t say any of my screw-ups merit classification as art. Knowing my friends, they will remind me if I did have any such moments of artistry. As for Jennifer, oh Jennifer, Jennifer, Jennifer. Move somewhere. Get a job. If your groom-to-be has a sense of humor and appreciation of the art you created, then marry the dude and live happily ever after. Hopefully, in a few years, after you pay off all the money that was spent looking for you during your “episode,” you will be able to laugh about it. The TV cameras and celebrity will be long gone. But you can say: “Wow, THAT was a work of art.”