Stare.
 
2006 Notebook: Weak XXXI
 
   
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30 July 2006
No. 6,941 (cartoon)
You never listen to me.

Don’t take it personally; I only listen when I talk.

31 July 2006
Fake Fakes and Forged Forgeries
’twould appear that Petra Kujau is in deep trouble, deep legal trouble. Dresden prosecutors claim that the forty-seven year old woman sold some five-hundred forgeries of Picasso’s, Monet’s, and Van Gogh’s work. Now here’s the tasty twist: Kujau never claimed the canvases were by said famous artists. Instead, she allegedly asserted the work was created by her great uncle, the accomplished forger Konrad Kujau.

Trouble is, ’twould appear Kujau sold faked forgeries, or perhaps forged fakeries. The fiasco just supports my theory that, when it comes to the commerce of art, the signature is the product, and the art itself is merely the buy-product.

1 August 2006
Burritos (But Not As We Know Them)
The local grocer now sells a new frozen food concoction, “Pierre’s Petite Parisian Escargots et Fromage Burritos.” I was prepared to scoff at the Ranidae concoction until I noticed that serving advice on the packaging, “Just Add Wine for a Complete Repast.”

Well, I’ll be damned if that little Pierre bugger wasn’t right! Bone appetite indeedy!

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2 August 2006
Have a Nice Urination Day
I accompanied Hubert to the hospital for some routine tests. That’s something friends do for friends, and, on a selfish note, that was one of the few opportunities for visiting a ridiculously busy pal.

We had quite a lot to drink before going to the clinic; is there any other prudent way to enter the belly of the corporate medical beast? And so it was that I needed to visit the UC (urination chamber) soon after we arrived. There, I was greeted by a warning on the door.

    STOP!
    If you have to pee,
    we may need a urine sample.

I asked an orderly about the confusing instructions. Couldn’t I pee and still give a urine sample? Or urinate and still provide pee for analysis?

It turns out the staffer spoke almost no English, so she gave me a plastic bottle and advised me, “Have a nice day.”

So I did.

3 August 2006
Joey’s Heinous Murder
Dr. Lux told me that her colleague Joey, who also harvests brains and spines, was brutally murdered. I suppose every murder except euthanasia is, by definition, brutal, but Joey’s killers were particularly barbaric and sadistic: they threw Joey off a freeway overpass. Joey died after he was repeatedly struck by speeding cars.

There’s not much to be said about such savagery, so I won’t.

4 August 2006
Anti-Stupidity Pills
I just read in Bild that Hans-Hilger Ropers from the Max-Planck-Institute for Molecular Genetics in Berlin has been experimenting with an “anti-stupidity” pill. According to an article in the Hamburg newspaper, the researcher reports promising results with fruit flies and mice.

I’m not particularly interested in “anti-stupidity” pills, even though many of my learned friends no doubt believe I should be. It’s true that I once suffered from an intelligence deficit, but I more or less eliminated it when I stopped popping stupid pills in 1983. Or was it 1985? Maybe 1990?

Damn; maybe I really do need to swallow a handful of anti-stupidity pills.

5 August 2006
A Defensive Conversational Gambit
After Toni saw what I was doing, she decided to generously provide her advice.

“I may be mistaken,” she began. And that was all she could say before I interrupted.

“Actually,” I interjected, “I’m certain that you are mistaken.”

And that was the end of Toni’s unwelcome meddling. I’ll have to try that gambit more often!

6 August 2006
Amongst Ourselves
I was visiting Anastasia in her studio this morning; I enjoyed the rare opportunity to have an intimate conversation with her. Until her phone rang.

“I’m sorry, David, but I need to take this call,” she apologized as she walked out of the room. “Talk amongst yourselves.”

Talk amongst ourselves, like we had multiple personalities or something?! One part of me was amused by her clever remark, one part was somewhat disturbed, and another part was merely annoyed. Perhaps Anastasia had a point after all.

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©2006 David Glenn Rinehart