I ran into immediate and insurmountable problems as soon as I began the project. Kansas isn’t rectangular; some of the state’s borders are squiggly, and thus too complex for me to draw. (In fact, anything except a straight line or a circle is too complicated for me to draw.) That’s when I turned to Iowa, but that sorry state has even wigglier sides.

Wyoming came to my rescue, and just in time. I’m not sure whether Wyoming is a rectangle or a trapezoid or neither; my maps can’t agree. In the end, the only map that fit on my scanner said, “Wyoming is a trapezoid,” so that was that.

I ended up using a simplified bull’s eye instead of a pure geometric shape, and used counties instead of cities and towns. I could go into more detail about the process, but then my description would be even more boring than the piece itself. That’s a mistake all too many artists make, an error in judgment I’ll avoid if only for today.

The Twenty-Three Wyoming Counties is available in the PDF format; the usual technical annoyances and considerations still apply.

What a beautiful phrase!

I heard her say it with my ears.

My piss-poor dictionary tells me that noumena are objects that can be deduced intellectually, but not perceived by the senses. If I was foolish enough to try to define art, I don’t think I’d be able to do so without using the word, “noumenon.”

My semantic discovery should lead to immediate payoffs. Now, when someone asks what kind of art I make, I’ll no longer reply, “bad conceptual art.” Instead, I will claim to make pieces “purportedly rich in noumena.”

Robert provides sign-language translations for deaf audiences. Robert sometimes wears a gingham, checked, purple and white shirt with a bright purple tie. After a recent engagement, a member of the audience politely told Robert that his attire made it difficult to read his hands.

(Widespread reports of Rammy the Ram’s late arrival are beyond the scope of this anecdote.)

Maybe Robert will change his wardrobe. Maybe he won’t. That’s his problem. (And his viewers’ problem as well, I suppose.)

My problem is this: suddenly, I realize I am surrounded by annoying clothing.

Marissa succeeded in ensuring her early work was truly ephemeral. Today, she’s convinced that none of her early works were even documented, let alone preserved.

And, of course, now Marissa regrets that there’s no trace of her early past. Poor Marissa, she got what she wanted. What could be worse?

And that brings us to Jeremy Benthham, who’s not been very well of late. Benthham has, in fact, been very much dead since 1832. That’s when he had the brilliant idea of bequeathing his stuffed corpse, his “Auto-Icon,” to London University.

Time has not stood still for Benthham. Like many other university lecturers, Benthham’s repeated lost his head to young students. In Benthham’s case, though, the loss has been literal: the precocious students kept stealing it. That’s why university officials have stored Benthham’s head in the basement for safekeeping.

Had university officials taken the same precautions with Benthham’s body, it might or might not be crawling with the woolly bear larvae that infect it today. Benthham’s Auto-Icon is currently in Worchester being deloused; that’s where researchers concluded he has the oldest woolen underwear in London.

Benthham should be home by no later than February.

Whew!