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An Artist’s Notebook of Sorts

Last Weak  |  Index  |  Next Weak

Weak XXXVII

nothing

10 September 2012

gratuitous image

No. 1,519 (cartoon)

Have you ever considered taking someone’s life?

I’m quite happy with the one I have.

11 September 2012

Died in Vain

Julian is immensely proud that he and Nancy made a baby. It doesn’t seem like much of an accomplishment; billions and billions of people have done so. Insert penis in vagina, ejaculate, et voilà! A baby pops out nine months later. How hard can that be?

I have no idea why Julian’s so chuffed with his breeding performance. He sent millions of spermatozoa into an unlit tunnel; it’s not surprising that one of them eventually found a stationary target. I’m reticent to brag, but I’m quite pleased that all of my spermatozoa have died in vain.

12 September 2012

An Ignoramus, Perhaps

As a pseudo-nomad, I’ve only bought one book in the last two decades: Adam Engst’s Internet Starter Kit. That was in 1993 or so, before the Internet was popular. It was a useful book for more reasons than the information on its pages. In those days, Apple computers couldn’t connect to the Internet without a sixty-dollar program called MacTCP. Only Apple Computer sold the necessary software, but it was included on a disk that was bundled with Internet Starter Kit.

In retrospect, I suppose I didn’t really buy the book to get the free software, I bought the program to get the free book. I have millions upon millions of books freely available to me over the Internet, so I don’t consider myself to be an ignoramus. But, since I’ve never read one of them because I’ve spent almost all of my time allegedly creating instead of consuming, perhaps I should.

13 September 2012

gratuitous image

Gratuitous Photo of the Weak: La Bél Wine

Sandra commissioned an illustrator to create a bottle label for the wine she produced. She sent her a crude drawing of a bunch of grapes with the word “label” scrawled underneath. Sandra had intended for the sketch to serve as a basis for discussion, but the designer thought it was a commission and produced a minimalist label for the nonexistent la Bél vineyards.

That was a long time ago. The design proved so popular that Sandra changed the name of her company to la Bél. The rest is history, and my lunch.

14 September 2012

Grotesque British Breasts

Oh dear oh dear of dear, a French magazine published photographs revealing that at Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge (Catherine Elizabeth “Kate” née Middleton) has breasts. Two of them, according to the most recent reports. Just like the rest of us.

A spokesperson for the British royal family called the images “grotesque.” And that’s all one really needs to know about British “royalty.” They’re like the rest of us, but grotesque.

15 September 2012

Severed Head

I couldn’t help but overhear Julian’s phone conversation.

“Then why would you open the bag if you knew you were going to find a severed head?” he asked.

I don’t want to know anything about any severed heads, so I didn’t say anything. People who don’t steer clear of severed heads may wake up one morning to discover that their skull is among them.

16 September 2012

Fair Trade?

Randall and I were sipping coffee at a local coffee shop when I spotted a curious boast posted on the café’s wall: “Twenty percent of our coffee comes from fair trade suppliers.” Cynic that I am, this is what I read: “Eighty percent of our coffee comes from despots and slavers.”

I suggested to Randall that, that given the four-to-one odds, our coffee probably came from beans picked by oppressed, impoverished children. In response, Randall suggested, “Shut the fuck up.”

Randall always was—and still is—a most erudite orator.

17 September 2012

Is There Ain’t Nothing?

Rebecca and I were enjoying the Rainier Ale, one of the simplest drinks, when she ambushed me with a trick question: “Can there really be nothing?”

I responded with obfuscation, to wit, “Don’t believe that there’s nothing that can be known about nothing, because without nothing there couldn’t be something. That very somethingness must exist against a backdrop of nothingness, or else how could we distinguish between the two?”

“Cut the codswallop, David,” Rebecca responded. “Is there is or is there ain’t nothing?”

“Our empty glasses provide irrefutable, empirical evidence of nothingness,” I replied. “Would you like another drink?”

She did like another drink, and that was the end of that tedious conversation.

Stare.

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©2012 David Glenn Rinehart

nothing nothing nothing nothing