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Weak XII
19 March 2013
No. 3,200 (cartoon)
You’re out of ideas.
You're out of excuses.
Stalemate!
20 March 2013
How Many Performance Artists?
Theresa asked me how many performance artists it takes take to change a lightbulb. There’s only one polite answer to a lightbulb joke, so I told her that I didn’t know.
“I don’t know either,” she replied, “I walked out after three hours.”
I hope I never discover how many performance artists it takes take to change a lightbulb; the answer has to be some flavor of repugnant.
21 March 2013
Cycling Without Drugs
The San Francisco Bicycle Federation is presenting the world’s first drug-free bicycle race. After years of scandals in the professional cycling world, the organizers are requiring riders to submit to a battery of nine drug tests before, after, and even during the race. It’s a wonder those skinny guys have enough blood and urine left to even compete.
Maybe they don’t.
Cheryl and I staked out a vantage point this morning at the steepest grade in San Francisco: Romolo between Vallejo and Fresno. That’s over thirty-seven degrees! We weren’t disappointed, even though we were.
When the peloton rounded the corner, the riders huffed and puffed partway up the incline before hopping off their bikes and walking them up the steep slope. Well, I suppose they were kind of jogging their rides up the gradient, but you get the picture.
“Spare the drugs,” Cheryl opined, “and spoil the bike ride.”
Although I couldn’t possibly agree with such a broad pronouncement, her observation was not without some merit.
22 March 2013
Diagram Prize Awarded!
At last! Today’s the day I finally learn which of the six finalists won the Diagram Prize for Oddest Book Title of the Year. Here are the candidates, in alphabetical order:
Goblinproofing One’s Chicken Coop
God’s Doodle: The Life and Times of the Penis
How Tea Cosies Changed the World
How to Sharpen Pencils
Lofts of North America: Pigeon Lofts
Was Hitler Ill?
Who won? The least expensive book, at fifteen dollars. That rules out the pigeon book, which retails for over seventy-five dollars. The penis book was dead on arrival: none of the predominantly male jurors could have voted for it with impunity. And Hitler as a funny title? Nope, still way too soon, The Producers et al notwithstanding.
And that’s enough foreplay for one anticlimax: Reginald Bakeley’s Goblinproofing One’s Chicken Coop won the prize.
Of course.
23 March 2013
Older Than I Thought
Ever since a really, really long time ago, I’ve always thought of the universe as being 13.7 billion years old or so. Astronomers have recently determined that that the universe is actually closer to 13.8 billion years old, give or take. And a bit wider, too.
All of us are getting a bit older and wider, so I don’t see anything newsworthy in the press release. And anyway, since I can barely begin to appreciate that I only need a single digit to measure how many decades I’ll live, what’s another hundred million years or so in the age of the universe?
24 March 2013
Gratuitous Photo of the Weak: Rotting Fruit
I’m working on a new project, photographing the annoying little labels that are affixed to most pieces of commercial fruit. I began by bringing a peach up to my studio a couple of weeks ago, and that’s all the progress I’ve made to date. That’s fine; I’m not in a hurry.
This afternoon, I noticed the peach was changing. Part of its peachy body was losing its structural integrity and collapsing in on itself, and its fruity fluids were starting to form a sticky pool below its decomposing corpse. In short, it was rotting.
Today, I photographed the fruit’s rancid, sickly sweet juice. If I can summon the strength, tomorrow I may focus on the label.
25 March 2013
Waxing Gibbous
I see that today’s moon phase is, “waxing gibbous.” That sounds shiny, doesn’t it?
Well, it’s not.
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