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An Artist’s Notebook of Sorts

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Weak IV


22 January 2018

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No. 6,741 (cartoon)

I wasn’t expecting you to be so vicious.

It’s a common mistake.

23 January 2018

Tsunami Lemmings

There was another big west coast earthquake in the middle of the night; it was the second one this year. The Alaskan quake resulted in a tsunami warning for Sans Frisco. Most people slept through the alarm; otherwise, the results could have been catastrophic. I remember some years ago the authorities issued a tidal wave alert, and soon the roads were gridlocked when everyone drove toward to beaches to get a good look at the rare phenomenon.

I’m glad there wasn’t a deadly flood, even though we could perhaps use a Darwinian thinning of a few idiots from the herd.

24 January 2018

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Camel Love Gone Wrong

The ancient philosopher Muhammad ibn Zakariya al-Razi was most prescient when he wrote over a millennium ago, “When a man loves a camel, no earthly good shall come from it.”

A handful of unwise men at the annual King Abdulaziz Camel Festival in Saudi Arabia ignored his prophetic advice by injecting their camels with botulinum toxin to create the juicy hot camel pout that drives so many Bedouins to drool with desire.

The king wasn’t having any of it.

“The male gaze represents the patriarchal sexist view and symbolizes an outdated and inappropriate way of seeing camels that empowers men and objectifies the worthy beasts,” declared King Salman bin Abdulaziz al-Saud.

“The noble camel is visually oriented as the target of beastly desire,” he continued. “Her emotions and aspirations are defined by and subjugated to male inclinations, and that’s just some totally fucked up shit.”

The abused camels watched impassively while their owners were crucified in front of them. It’s a Saudi thing, and the huge critters just yawned with their chemically enhanced pouting lips.

25 January 2018

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Burns Night

Stephan began tonight’s Burns Night celebration by apologizing for not offering any haggis. That was hardly an oversight or a social failure since haggis is illegal in this country, but he’s one of those well-intentioned people who just can’t stop apologizing, even if it’s an apology for having nothing about which to apologize.

And anyway, no one was there to chew on puréed slaughterhouse slop; we came to raid Stephan’s whisky buffet in all its peaty goodness.

In lieu of haggis, Stephan gave us each a couple of sheets of vintage toilet paper from the Edinburgh Cleansing Department. He assured us the rough, waxy (nonabsorbent toilet paper?!) panels would, “give us an unparalleled feel for Robden of Solway Firth.”

Yikes; I hope not.

There’s only so much I can write about Burns Night toilet paper, and I believe that I already have.

26 January 2018

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Golden Throne

Donald Trump asked to borrow a Vincent van Gogh painting for his private living quarters from the Guggenheim Museum. In what can only be described as an act of kindness, compassion, and profound understanding, Nancy Spector offered the despotic fascist the much more appropriate option of Maurizio Cattelan’s America, a solid gold toilet. Trump wants to rule on a golden throne, but nevertheless declined the curator’s generous offer.

The problem, in a word, was marble. The problem, in three words, was not enough marble. Trump demanded that it be supplied with “an appropriate Italian White Carrara Marble environment,” presumably rotund and obese like him. Guggenheim officials declined the request.

Cattelan was nonplussed. "What's the point of our life?” he asked. “Everything seems absurd until we die and then it makes sense."

Sarah Elizabeth Huckabee Sanders, Trump’s press secretary, insisted her germophobe boss wasn’t disappointed. “He continues to enjoy great success defecating in his traditional sterile satin and silk biohazard bags, and the loser liberal elites can continue to share their communal toilet.”

27 January 2018

My Favorite Drug

Placebos are my favorite drugs, even though they’re not drugs at all. As Matthew Walker noted, “The placebo effect is the most reliable effect in all of pharmacology.”

Since I agree with what he said, that makes the acclaimed sleep researcher one of my favorite doctors, even though I’m not sure if he’s a proper doctor. I do know that I drowsed off listening to his long interview. When it comes to being an effective sleep advocate, he’s great!

28 January 2018

Hot, Warm, and Cold Luxuries

My father said one idea of luxury would be to have the heat on with the window open on a winter day. He was too sensible to waste money like that, but I’m enjoying the open window in my studio listening to the cold, howling wind—cold for Sans Frisco at least. The chilly draft and the incandescent warmth of an inefficient electric space heater go well together, especially since I’m not paying for the utilities.

The waste of energy isn’t really much of a luxury, but the warm memories of my father certainly are.

29 January 2018

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More Than Enough (About) Pixels

My digital camera records 24,160,256 pixels every time I release the shutter. I only need 117,600 pixels to fill the relatively small space above; that leaves me with 24,042,656 extra pixels.

They’re not really redundant, though; I’ll need them someday if I ever make a print that’s larger than one I’ve ever made. I’ll know when that day arrives; the flying pigs will be an indisputable indicator.


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©2018 David Glenn Rinehart