The Killer, the Six-Pack & the Backpack

You know how much I love art. I've never been into performance art though—until this last week.

Before I get into it, let's talk about performance art itself. It's a genre that defies convention, blending visual art, theater, and raw human emotion into an experience that challenges both artist and audience. Emerging as a movement in the mid-20th century, it has roots in Dadaism and Fluxus. What the heck are those? Let’s discuss.

Dadaism, also known as Dada, started around 1916 as a reaction to the atrocities of World War I. It was all about challenging norms. It wasn't so much a style as a context to reject traditional approaches to art. Popular in Zurich, NYC, Berlin, Cologne, and Paris, Dadaism embraced group collaboration, spontaneity, found objects, and collaging. Its purpose? To critique ideologies that led to war, inequality, and oppression. It was anti-establishment and anti-authoritarian, forcing audiences to question authority, disrupt the status quo, and think critically about the world.

Fluxus emerged in the 1960s, blending life, art, and humor. It sought to dissolve the lines between life and art, challenging the idea that art should only exist in museums. Less structured than Dadaism, Fluxus embraced the unexpected, the playful, and the everyday, encouraging audiences and artists alike to see the world and art differently.

What makes performance art unique is its ability to provoke thought and conversation. It’s not designed to be comfortable; instead, it demands that the audience confront their biases, values, and societal norms. Marina Abramović’s The Artist Is Present, for instance, placed her in silent, direct connection with visitors, exploring vulnerability and human connection in a digital age.

Performance art transforms spaces into stages for activism and commentary. It allows artists to communicate complex ideas—about politics, identity, or existential questions—through symbolism and interaction. It’s not about what’s beautiful or perfect; it’s about what’s real, visceral, and unforgettable.

So why am I talking about this now?

This: 

If you've been living under a rock and don’t know who this is, it’s Luigi Mangione. He’s been arrested for the killing of the CEO of UnitedHealthcare.

Before I dive into Luigi, let me tell you a little about UnitedHealthcare.

UnitedHealthcare, a subsidiary of UnitedHealth Group, is the largest health insurer in the United States, covering over 47 million Americans. It's one of many companies that have jumped on the AI bandwagon. In November 2023, Newsweek published an article citing a lawsuit alleging that UnitedHealthcare employed AI to replace real people in their claims department. The AI reportedly had a 90% error rate, resulting in elderly patients being denied services recommended by physicians. Additionally, a Senate report from October 2024 criticized the company for delaying and denying necessary treatments, with denial rates rising from 10.9% in 2020 to 22.7% in 2022.

The Department of Justice has also investigated UnitedHealthcare for antitrust concerns. In 2024, the DOJ and attorneys general from four states sued to block its $3.3 billion acquisition of Amedisys, citing reduced patient choice and harmful employment practices for nurses. A previous acquisition of LHC Group Inc. raised similar monopoly concerns.

These issues highlight systemic problems within UnitedHealthcare's operations, raising questions about its commitment to patient care and ethical business practices.

Ok... back to Luigi.

The internet has gone bonkers over his looks, especially in the gay community. Apparently, he kissed a boy, and he liked it. And let’s be honest—he looked good doing it. With his scruffy, mysterious vibe, Mangione might just be the kind of antihero we didn’t know we needed. Some are already dubbing him the next Marvel superhero: "The Claims Adjuster.”

Who says social commentary can’t wear spandex and be couched within a major motion picture franchise?

For me, his backpack is where it all comes together. Apparently, he left his backpack in Central Park, and it took three days for the police to find it. What’s more interesting is that it was stuffed with Monopoly money. Monopoly money! Theories abound—some suggest he planned to scatter the money around the crime scene but forgot, while others claim it connects to the McDonald's Monopoly game and explains why he was apprehended at McDonald’s. Whatever the truth, this Monopoly stunt is a perfect metaphor for healthcare in America.

Think about it: access to care often feels like rolling the dice. Who gets the life-saving drug? Who faces bankruptcy because of a hospital stay? And who gets the gold-plated insurance plan because they landed on Boardwalk? Like a game of Monopoly, the stakes are high, and the rules don’t always feel fair.

But here’s the ultimate twist: healthcare isn’t a game. It’s life. Isn’t this the real reason why so many people sided with Luigi? Even though he committed a heinous act of violence, hundreds of thousands of people thought his actions were justified. It’s surreal that politicians were outraged over the brutal killing of one individual but remain indifferent to the many who die because of our healthcare system’s inadequacies. Just saying.

As an estate planning attorney, I see the fallout of this “game” every day—families scrambling to understand medical bills, struggling with insurance claims, or making tough decisions about care for loved ones. Planning can help level the playing field, but the truth is, no one should have to play this game at all.

Mangione’s act is being interpreted as both absurd and brilliant, highlighting how surreal our systems have become. If Monopoly money is meant to entertain and simulate, what does it say about a world where actual money dictates whether someone gets care or not?

So here’s my challenge to you:

What role do you want to play in this “game”? How are you planning to protect yourself and your family in a system where luck can dictate the outcome? And maybe, just maybe, the best way to honor Mangione’s performance art—beyond admiring his smolder—is to stop playing by these rules altogether. Estate planning isn’t just about money or property; it’s about reclaiming agency in a world that often feels out of control.

As you think about this, remember: don’t use violence to promote change, and know that the power to flip the board—or change the game entirely—is in your hands.