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An Artist’s Notebook of Sorts

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Weak VIII

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20 February 2010

gratuitous image

No. 5,910 (cartoon)

You’re unforgettable.

Thank you.

That wasn’t a compliment.

21 February 2010

Arrivederci, Signor Pizza

Last night, I enjoyed a stroll through my old neighborhood in San Francisco’s Tenderloin. I was feeling a bit peckish, so I decided to drop by Signor Pizza—one of my haunts from the eighties—for a fatty snack.

The establishment’s still there, but the new owners abandoned the name, Signor Pizza. That’s fine with me. The previous owners were born in Viet Nam; I doubt a real Italian ever bought a slice of pizza there. Or ever will.

And so, last night was my first stop at Abir Pizza. Judging from the owners’ appearance and accent—and several Turkish flags here and there—I’d wager the new owners are from Turkey.

The pizza tasted exactly the same as it did twenty years ago. I don’t have much of an epicurean vocabulary, so I can only describe the taste and quality as functional. The new owners apparently used the same industrial recipe; I appreciated the continuity.

Still, I see new changes in the works. I noticed one of the employees studying the heating directions on a huge block of frozen lasagna.

Good times ahead at Abir Pizza!

22 February 2010

A Lovely Evening with Dr. Cristello

Dr. Cristello has many skills, but my favorite is her cooking. Since she generously shares her delicious concoctions with me, I would say that, wouldn’t I?

Last night I enthusiastically accepted her invitation to have dinner with Empress Michiko, Lady Murasaki Shikibu, and her, and I’m glad I did. Ding dang-a-lang, it was great! The feast left me with a good taste in my mouth, figuratively and literally. Latives cannot describe how much I enjoyed it, only superlatives will do. I would elaborate and enumerate the numerous qualities, but my undependable thesaurus is at the factory for repairs.

23 February 2010

Wrong Place, Wrong Time?

Luis Armando Prieto was walking on Columbus Avenue a few hours after I did a few nights ago. I survived the stroll; Prieto did not. He died after being hit by a car going over a hundred kilometers an hour—with its lights off—at two in the morning.

Police found guns and methamphetamine in the vehicle; the driver was charged with murder. A police spokesperson explained that Prieto was, “in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Or was he?

It seems that he was in the wrong place at the right time, or possibly in the right place at the wrong time. I’m frequently in the wrong place; the only reason I’m still alive is that it’s always been at the wrong time. That, or just good luck.

24 February 2010

Breaking News: Killer Whales Kill!

News programs report that a captive killer whale killed one of its human jailers today. This is news? Again, this is a killer whale, not a cuddle whale.

In the ocean, killer whales can easily swim over a hundred kilometers on a slow day; they snack on huge, juicy seals. (Again, they’re called killer whales for a reason.) I’m not surprised that this particular whale—imprisoned in the cetacean equivalent of a bathtub and forced do stupid pet tricks for little pieces of fish—decided it had suffered enough abuse.

Only captive killer whales kill humans. One might conclude that wild animals should live in the wild, not in concrete pools in amusement parks. Of course, the people who make lots of money exploiting killer whales disagree. These are the same people who feign surprise when killer whales kill, even though they know that the occasional human death here and there is just the cost of doing business.

25 February 2010

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Is it a Movie?

“Film is not the art of scholars but illiterates.”

Werner Herzog said that, but I disagree. In fact, an illiterate person couldn’t really experience my latest film, Is it a Movie? The piece consists of eleven words, and not much else.

All of my other “films” are really videos, but I call them films because, well, because I occasionally enjoy being pretentious. Is it a Movie? really is a film, I even shot it on thirty-five millimeter stock. Film is very expensive, so I only used one frame, but I’d nevertheless have to describe it as spectacular, stupendous, enthralling.

Is it a Movie? I really don’t know. Or care.

Stare.

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©2010 David Glenn Rinehart

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