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An Artist’s Notebook of Sorts

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Weak XLI

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9 October 2023

gratuitous image

No. 8,126 (cartoon)

You’re stuck in the prison of your mind.

The food’s alright; at least it’s three squares.

Stop plugging our strip.

10 October 2023

Another Month, Another War

Oh dear, it’s another month with another war, and diplomats are working overtime and a half to bring war crimes and unspeakable atrocities back down to acceptable levels.

I’m reminded of Even Cowgirls Get the Blues, Tom Robbins’ novel published on Saint Stupid’s Day in 1976. It’s been almost half a century since I read it, but I still remember the sentence that marked the beginning of a new chapter: “The international situation is desperate, as usual.”

So it goes.

(Thanks, Kurt!)

11 October 2023

Toilet Bloom in the Fecal Forest

It’s a crisp, refreshing autumn day, and the toilets are in full bloom. You know what I’m talking about? Well, you won’t know unless I tell you, so that’s what I’m a-gonna do right now.

“Toilet bloom” is what you get when you flush a toilet and launch plethoras of germs, microbes, and all sorts of figurative and literal poop into the air. As a result, the hardy little organisms end up on your toothbrush, up your nose, down your throat, and in your guts.

This is wonderful; this is just wonderful.

People spend zillions on biome injections and fecal transplants trying to build a healthy community of microscopic critters in their innards, but basking in the toilet bloom is a free and effortless way to get better results. That’s why I try to spend as much time as I can in airport toilets, the bigger the better.

Remember this: keep toilet lids up and you too can enjoy all the benefits of a stroll through the fecal forest.

12 October 2023

Real Appreciation

“I could really appreciate a couple drinks right now,” Seymor announced when he arrived at my studio this afternoon.

“An excellent choice of words,” I replied. “I don’t pour for people who could fakely appreciate cheap wine.”

13 October 2023

Forty-three Percent of Thanathologists Are Alcoholics

Rodney asked me if I was being truthy when I wrote that forty-three percent of thanatologists are alcoholics.

“Of course I was,” I replied. “That’s based on verifiable data.”

That wasn’t good enough for him, so I had to get into the technical weeds. I explained that there are there are two types of statistics, the kind one looks up and the kind one makes up, and that I almost always rely on the latter, as do fifty-seven percent of all artists and writers.

So there.

14 October 2023

The Biggest Thing Since the Previous Biggest Thing

Ruth and I were talking about puzzling popular culture fashion and fads; she asked me what I thought about Taylor Swift. I replied that I thought that since she was so popular she was apparently the biggest thing since the previous biggest thing, and that I assumed that she had a distinctive voice like Brody Dalle, Billie Holiday, or Janet Klein and/or was an exceptionally talented songwriter.

Ruth suggested that we listen to some of her work since neither of us had heard any of her recordings, so we listened to three or four songs.

Big mistake.

It was dreadful! I thought it sounded like the same crap from the same aural pablum factory that Madonna Louise Ciccone used to crank out the same pop songs forty years ago.

Ruth had a different opinion that won me over. She said that she was a bit relieved that she hadn’t missed out on anything; Swift was just another fungible singing businesswoman wearing skimpy outfits.

Everybody sing along: Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb ...

Too bad Swift never followed Chrissie Hynde’s advice to a younger generation of female singers, “This music isn’t about ‘fuck me,’ it’s about ‘fuck you.’ ”

Coming next weak: more of the same.

Stare.

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©2023 David Glenn Rinehart

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