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An Artist’s Notebook of Sorts

Last Weak  |  Index  |  Next Weak

Weak XLVII

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20 November 2016

gratuitous image

No. 8,034 (cartoon)

Why does your dog smell so bad?

We’re having a heat wave.

And he’s been dead for over a week.

21 November 2016

Anthropomorphizing Space Creatures

Stephen Hawking thinks humans may be doomed to extinction within a millennium because of climate change, nuclear warfare, and obesity. Actually, he said nothing about obesity; I thought of that all by myself. His proposed solution: colonize other planets.

This is the same Stephen Hawking who also advocated staying in our galactic neighborhood to avoid contact with extraterrestrial creatures who might slaughter us and steal our resources just like humans do to other humans. I find it curious that such a smart guy would anthropomorphize space creatures, but there you go.

I personally don’t pay attention to warnings about a problems that may affect me in a millennium; that seems like it’s a thousand years away.

22 November 2016

Flat as a Billiard Ball

Rosaline just returned from Kansas, where state government officials are trying their best to legislate their way back to the dark ages, and doing a mighty fine job of it, too.

She reported that she hadn’t been there in thirty years when she drove straight through en route from the wrong side of the country to the right side.

“The place is just as miserable as I remembered it,” she reported, “and flat as a billiard ball.”

That didn’t seem quite right, but then nothing about Kansas does.

23 November 2016

A Excellent Excuse

I spotted a typographical error when I was helping Jason with a publishing project. It was my favorite kind of typo; it was in a headline set in seventy-two point Futura Bold. If you’re going to say something stupid, scream it from the rooftop instead of whispering it in the shadows.

I congratulated Jason on his bold—figuratively and literally—typo, and he commended my astute observation. He claimed the error wasn’t a mistake at all, but rather a test to see how many people would have the chutzpah to point out his oversight.

What an excellent excuse! I’ll use that line the next time someone catches one of my myriad typos.

24 November 2016

Exactly the Opposite of the Same

Emilia said things weren’t going well with Duncan; they weren’t going well at all.

“Tell me what ‘not going very well at all’ means in English,” I asked.

“Well, things are almost the same as when we got married,” she explained, “except now they’re exactly the opposite.”

I suppose that’s as good a way as any to describe an impending divorce.

25 November 2016

The Self-Indulgent Trouble I See

Malcolm suffers from many painful wounds, most of them self-inflicted. I don’t feel sorry for him; masochists like Malcolm want it that way. Having said that, he did take his self-indulgence too far when he wrote, “Nobody knows the troubles I’ve seen.”

I’m au fait with plagiarism, but it’s one grand heist too many when people of noncolor like Malcolm appropriate the laments of American slaves from a hundred and fifty years ago. There is indeed honor among thieves, something that’s eluded a selfish whiner like Malcolm.

Stare.

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©2016 David Glenn Rinehart

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