- 30 January 2007
- No. 9,218 (cartoon)
- Youre priceless.
Its like were twins.
- 31 January 2007
- A Piece a Month
- For years, Ive been increasingly bothered that that few things ever emerge from the black hole that is my Work in Progress folder. My lack of productivity is beginning to annoy even the conceptual artist in me, so Ive decided to do something about it.
Nothing ever happens without a deadline, or at least thats the way my universe works. Thus Ive given myself a quota of making one serious (teehee!) piece of work a month, so by by the end of the year Ill have made a dozen new works in addition to three hundred and sixty-five disposable notebook entries like this one. Therefore I Am is my item for January, and next month I shall finish a project thats undeniably groovy (in the technical sense).
By writing this today, Ill have something for my friends to point to and ask, What have you done lately? Its important to give friends ammunition to use; it keeps everyone alert and honest.
- 1 February 2007
- Norman Rockwells Conceptual Mistake
- Were he not dead, Norman Rockwell would be one hundred and thirteen years old on Saturday. Even so, I doubt he would have overcome what he considered to be one of his great shortcomings as an artist.
I learned to draw everything except glamorous women, Rockwell lamented. No matter how much I tried to make them look sexy, they always ended up looking silly, or like somebodys mother.
Im a better artist than Rockwell, so I recognize his mistake, his conceptual blunder. By failing to realize that silly and mother arent the opposite of sexy, Rockwell passed up many rewarding opportunities.
- 2 February 2007
- Dogsitting: Day One
- Ive agreed to care of some very dear friends dogs while theyre out of the country for the next week or so.
Im afraid were off to a bad start; the dyslexic beasts regard me as a dog.
- 3 February 2007
- Dogsitting: Day Two
- I think I see what the problem here is: the dogs dont realize their place in the greater scheme of things, somewhere between squirrels and cockroaches. Their closest relative are rats; the rodents share over ninety-eight percent of the dogs DNA.
In order to help the mongrels get over their delusions of adequacy, I wrote a brief motivational note, printed it, and taped it to the wall by the dogs water bowl.
You Are a Dog.
You have a tail and walk on four legs; thus you realize youre inhuman. You might conclude that youre a cat, but that would be a big mistake. Having been dealt a very bad hand in the game of genetic selection, the best you can hope for is to emulate the cat. Obviously, you will never become a feline, but you will be a better dog to the degree to which that is possible.
Cats do not concern themselves with human affairs. You should also mind your own business. Model your behavior on the feline state of enlightenment by ignoring the doorbell; visitors have come to enjoy human company, and no ones sending you a package or a letter. (Any and all messages will continue to be sent on the form of dog urine sprayed on shrubberies, fire hydrants, lamp posts, et cetera.)
And then theres the matter of personal hygiene. Im not talking about licking your genitalia; since thats physically impossible for me to do I suppose I cant comment. However, when it comes to defecation, were on equal footing, so to speak. Have you ever seen a piece of cat excrement anywhere? (The bits youve dug up dont count.) Thus why you had to leave a smelly pile of dogs detritus in front of the door to the store where I left you for less than two minutes is, well ... think about it. Please.
Ill move on to some finer points of bettering yourselves tomorrow, but in the meantime, Id like to bring up the subject of interspecies licking. No humans invited to this house do it (at least not here), cats dont do it, and neither should you.
In conclusion, stop barking. Instead; think about meowing; the zen exercise will serve all of us well.
- 4 February 2007
- Dogsitting: Day Three
- I returned from a half-hour trip to discover one of the dogs was gone. An escape, on my watch!
Of course, the first thing that came to mind was imagining welcoming my friends home by noting that half of their dogs were fine.
I headed out on my bike looking for the escapee, and decided to steer into oncoming traffic in the hopes that it would appear that I died in a tragic cycling accident, after which one of the heartbroken beasts in my care broke out of the house to find me.
Instead, all of the drivers I tried to hit swerved to avoid me, and I ended up back at the house after two and a half hours of frantic pedaling. Thats where I discovered that the runaway had returned in order to see if there might be any rewards involved for his capture.
I changed the locks; from now on these slippery dogs arent going anywhere except in their little doggie bondage outfits.
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©2007 David Glenn Rinehart