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An Artist’s Notebook of Sorts

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Weak XL

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1 October 2021

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No. 9,745 (cartoon)

If you cut me, do I not bleed?

That experiment never gets old!

2 October 2021

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International Chest Federation?

The International Chess Federation has declared 2022 as, “The Year of Women in Chess.”

So far, so good.

But ...

The International Chess Federation announced Motiva would sponsor the program to recognize and honor female chess players; they’ve been traditionally overlooked and marginalized in the sexist world of chess. Better late than never, I suppose.

And Motiva? I’d never heard of the company until now for the most obvious of reasons: it sells breast implants. The connection between that and chess is perhaps obvious if you’re a drunken Neanderthal sniffing glue and huffing paint.

Otherwise, I’m baffled. Perhaps the International Chess Federation thought Motiva marketed best enlargements that would make female chess players better players? Or perhaps Motiva marketers thought they were tossing spare change at the International Chest Federation?

Of course not: I’m one of the worst chess players in the universe, and even I can recognize sacrificing a few pawns. Someone dangled some money in front of sexistpigdogs and they grabbed it.

The only thing positive thing I can say about the greedy idiots is that they declined a suggestion from a Motiva executive to rename the program, “The Year of Women with Brobdingnagian Breasts in Chess.”

3 October 2021

The Most Egotistical Person in the World?

Let’s see ...

People made three million photographs in the second it took to read, “let’s see.” That’s a trillion and a half snapshots a year, which is even more incomprehensible (even though that’s logically impossible).

I’m a very modest person. (It’s easy, I have a lot about which to be modest.) I think about those numbers every time I pull out my tripod, attach a camera, and begin what’s usually at least an hour of work to make a “serious” photograph. I must be the most egotistical person in the world to believe that that the photograph I made during a one-second exposure might be more seeworthy than any of the other three million images that were created at the same time.

4 October 2021

National POETRY Day

After ten entries on the fourth day of October whinging about wretched poets and their even wretcheder poems I finally decided to stop complaining and do something about it.

I declare that today is no longer national poetry day; I changed it to national POETRY day. That’s an acronym for Preventing Offensive Execrable Text Reaching Y’all. I know it’s a bit awkward; perhaps I’ll think of something better next year. In any case I’m quite chuffed that I succeeded in replacing a negative word with a positive acronym.

Now that right there is some real powerful wordsmithin’, that is!

I wouldn’t exactly say that I’m rubbing shoulders with Edward Estlin Cummings, but then who’d want to? He’s been two meters under for almost sixty years.

5 October 2021

A Number of My Novels

Niklas wanted to know what kind of writer I was. Since he was too lazy and/or smart enough to not waste his time reading these notebook entries, that gave me the liberty to fib.

“I’m a novel writer,” I responded.

“How many?” he asked.

“I’ve written a number,” I replied.

“How many?” he demanded.

“I write novel excuses for not writing novels,” I explained, “so the number is zero.”

6 October 2021

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A Toilet That Smells Like a Car

I spotted a spray can of Ozium air sanitizer in Lily’s bathroom. It’s not for sanitizing the air at all; it’s meant to mask the smell of excrement, because feces smells like ... well, you know what it smells like.

Ozium promises, “The new car smell!” To be atypically charitable, I suppose it might actually deliver on that fanfaronade if a driver with uncontrolled incontinence problems owned the new vehicle in question. But ...

But why oh why oh why oh why would anyone want their toilet to smell like a car?

7 October 2021

The Problem With Book Learnin’

Elias just started law school, and told me that he’s very excited about becoming a lawyer and everything that comes with it. I knew he was only thinking about money when he said “and everything that comes with it.” I doubt he’ll have any idea what it’s like in practice until he’s too deep in the legal quicksand to escape.

He decided to show off his newfound textbook learnin’ by asking, “Do you know how to murder a reasonable person with impunity?”

“Of course,” I replied. “You freeze the impunity, slice it into a razor-sharp shard, then stab your victim to death. The impunity will melt before any investigators show up, so there's no murder weapon.”

He admitted he hadn’t thought of that. Of course he hadn’t. Too much book and not enough thinking, that’s the problem with book learnin’.

8 October 2021

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The Unko Museum

Over a year ago I wrote about PooPaint toilet paper from Japan, “Wiping poop, Coloring the art.” Probably best if you don’t think about it.

Noreen said anyone who appreciates shitty Japanese art should know about the Unko Museum. That’s been on my “something to write about next week” list for over a year, so it’s time to exercise and exorcise it.

The Unko Museum in Yokohama is what’s arguably the shittiest museum and gallery in the world. Quite an achievement given the intense competition, I’d say!

Give us your best constipation face as you sit on the toilet and mimic pushing out a really stubborn poop.

How’s that for a warm welcome? Mighty friendly those Japanese Unko curators can be. They installed unplumbed toilets on which to feign defecation while fully clothed. Pretty Dada, I’d say!

After the introductory photo op, it’s on to the defecation video games. (Oops, I should have mentioned paragraphs ago that “unko” is Japanese for excrement.)

And then, well, not much. There’s no mention of coprophilia, so the Unko Museum doesn’t have much to distinguish itself from other institutions serving up the usual shit.

Time to go, I’d say!

Stare.

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©2021 David Glenn Rinehart

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