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An Artist’s Notebook of Sorts

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Weak XI

nothing

13 March 2021

gratuitous image

No. 4,556 (cartoon)

You don’t care if I’m dead or alive.

That’s not true; I prefer the former.

14 March 2021

Never Memorize

I’m going to eat pizza today. It’s pi day, so of course I will. But I’m not going to talk about that.

Instead, I’ll note that Albert Einstein would have been one hundred and forty-two years old today if he hadn’t died within a few weeks of when I was conceived. He may still be alive in a parallel universe or another dimension, but I’m not going to talk about that, either.

Nope, I’m here to talk about my latest discovery: a new Einstein quote. Now, when I say “new,” I obviously don’t mean anything he’s come up with recently. I’m talking about one of his quotes that’s new to me: “Never memorize something that you can look up.”

You say “of course.” Don’t deny it; I just heard you. Most of us who are privileged to be privileged have access to thirty-seven hailidibytes of data in our pockets at the moment, but let’s look back to another time.

Thomas John Watson Señor, the head of International Business Machines, who was born and died within a few years of Einstein, may or may not have said, “I think there is a world market for maybe five computers.”

Is the moral of this story that Einstein envisioned a time like this when most of us who are privileged to be privileged have access to thirty-seven hailidibites of data in our pockets when one of his peers was envisioning five ’puters?

No, and no. This ain’t no story, and Einstein was talking about how his worse than useless “teachers” didn’t care about thinking, only memorization. Or maybe he was talking about the Internet; how would I know?

I can only think of two things to wrap this up. I can now cite Einstein’s comforting admonition to anyone worried about forgetting someone’s phone number. More importantly; it smells like the pizza’s burning; gotta go!

Happy pi day!

15 March 2021

Drivel Unfit to Print

It’s easy to make fun of The New York Times, so I will. Big, fat, slow-moving targets are hard to resist, so I won’t.

A few days ago, The Old Grey Mare—or whatever the august rag is lovingly called—published an article, “Nineteen Songs That Matter Right Now.”

?!

My first impression was that the newspaper is now being written and edited by teenagers. After thinking about it for a while though, I came to a different conclusion: the newspaper is now being written and edited by really, really stupid teenagers.

Songs that matter? To the progress of humankind? To humanity and generations yet unborn? To our understanding of the universe, the world, and ourselves? These songs matter to the large corporations, a handful of entertainers doing business as musicians, and anyone else who can make a dollar off them.

Let’s see, did I leave anyone out? Oh yes, the owners of The New York Times, who claim to publish “All the News That’s Fit to Print,” but really sell all the pop culture drivel that’s profitable.

16 March 2021

Anonymous Idea

Anonymous told me that she and Hussy locked horns with daggers drawn today at her soul-sucking job. I’m not going to regale you with another tawdry, tedious tale from corporate America because I just had a better idea.

I’ve always been glad I never had children. I’ve enjoyed the freedom from parasites, even though I hear that they’re not as bad as tapeworms. And I thought of another reason I’m chuffed to be barren when I started writing this: I never thought of the perfect name for my progeny until now ...

No many how many neonates I fathered, I’d name each one Anonymous and give ’em Roman numerals for middle names. (I stole the last bit from the pope, but I’m sure he’ll forgive me. After all, that is his job description.)

I wouldn’t have to worry about money; we’d be rich from all the royalties from everything Anonymous is credited with creating.

I can hear it now ...

“Anonymous II, take those handcuffs off Anonymous IV this instant! Anonymous IV, apologize to Anonymous II for putting dog shit in the chili!”

Yep, I can hear it clearly, and can feel my sperm count dropping in response. If there’s a better value than birth control, it’s not available to the public.

17 March 2021

gratuitous image

Snow Day Visual Break

I was grating some parsnips to sprinkle over my usual breakfast of broiled kumquat peels when I saw it: powdery snow piled delicately on the gate outside the kitchen window. I was drawn to the ephemeral sight like a shutterbug drawn to a frozen visual cliché. (That’s sort of like a moth drawn to a flame, adjusted for species, season, altitude, and litterary convenience.)

I stepped outside and found a photographic readymade: the composition, lighting, and framing were just sitting there waiting to be harvested, so in a five-hundredth of a second I did.

When I was a boy we occasionally had a “snow day” when school was canceled because a winter storm made the roads impassable. I’m calling this a snow day and calling a pretty postcard photo a notebook entry and not go to work today.

Epilogue: the place was filled with smoke from flaming kumquat peels when I came back inside.

18 March 2021

Drink Responsibly!

Duane chastised me for “promoting drinking,” and said that I need to urge people to, “drink responsibly.” (As if anyone reads this.)

His first point was so ridiculous that it would be a waste of time to address it, so I will. I don’t promote anything including alcohol; alcohol has successfully promoted itself for millennia. And speaking of waste, advertising campaigns encouraging people to drink are worse than nugatory.

I had to admit that his second argument was not without a modicum of merit, so here goes ...

Drink responsibly: don’t spill a drop!

Stare.

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©2021 David Glenn Rinehart

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