He Drew Her, Then . . .

Noli Me Tangere

When I first hit on the idea of trying to make money drawing cartoons, I was very intimidated by the thought of learning inking techniques. In fact, I thought it was hopeless for me to even try. So, for more than a year I limited myself to working with pencils. I tried to create high contrast images by using soft lead and stumping techniques. (A very good contemporary cartoonist named Matthew Diffee appears regularly in the New Yorker and he renders his cartoons in pencils, so I wasn’t completely grasping at straws.)

When I submit short stories to magazines, my rejections are almost always thoughtful notes from the editor rather than impersonal, printed rejection slips. However, my cartoons never generated any interest at all. I certainly can’t say my pencil rendering technique was the cause of the quick rejections, but it always bugged me that I wasn’t buckling down and forcing myself to learn ink techniques so, eventually, I declared plain pencil renderings a thing of the past and practiced, practiced, practiced with pen techniques.

So, now I’m becoming slightly more comfortable with inking techniques.

However, I’ve got a folder full of old pencil cartoons. I don’t have the energy to ink them—and they’re not ‘pencils’ as such, they’re conceived of as complete as they are, they weren’t planned as a first step toward inking. And I kind of like many of them. Some of them still make me smile.

Since modern scanners and their software can take a low contrast image and generate an acceptable screen image from it, now and then I’m going to dig into my folder of old pencil cartoons and post one or two.

Today’s pencil cartoon was inspired by the fashion label Imitation of Christ. That’s a provocative name that makes a lot of Christian women angry—even though some of those angry Christian women like the clothes so much they shrug off their unease and wear the label. If I ever put out a high fashion line—say tee shirts and swim wear embroidered with cool cartoons or cool poetry—I’d call the line Noli Me Tangere. The echoes and allusions and irony to my ears speak much more to humor than blasphemy.

2007 Complete Index

December Archive


Friday, December 28, 2007 -- Goldfish And Sea Monsters #3 of 3

Thursday, December 27, 2007 -- Goldfish And Sea Monsters #2 of 3

Wednesday, December 26, 2007 -- Goldfish And Sea Monsters #1 of 3


Friday, December 21, 2007 -- What Is Love? 4—Forbidden Love

Thursday, December 20, 2007 -- Kate Moss (And Why My Life Is Derailed)

Wednesday, December 19, 2007 -- What Is Love? 3—Gorilla My Dreams

Tuesday, December 18, 2007 -- Why Don’t Turkeys Wear Bras?

Monday, December 17, 2007 -- Lost Gloves



Friday, December 14, 2007 -- The Leaky Yellow Pencil

Thursday, December 13, 2007 -- New Shirt

Wednesday, December 12, 2007 -- Snail Tricks

Tuesday, December 11, 2007 -- Inconsolable: Top Ten Anagrams

Monday, December 10, 2007 -- This Makes Me Think Of “The Swan”



Friday, December 07, 2007 -- “Christian Nation — No Foot Play!”

Thursday, December 06, 2007 -- Karen Kilimnik

Wednesday, December 05, 2007 -- Snow Worries

Tuesday, December 04, 2007 -- My Orange Hat In Theory And Practice

Monday, December 03, 2007 -- How To (Slowly) Sort A List



November Archive


Friday, November 30, 2007 -- The Salt Shaker

Thursday, November 29, 2007 -- Candles

Wednesday, November 28, 2007 -- What Is Love? 2—Ayn Rand

Tuesday, November 27, 2007 -- What Is Love? 1—The Mole People

Monday, November 26, 2007 -- Empty Lots


Friday, November 23, 2007 -- The Little Cactus

Wednesday, November 21, 2007 -- Did Gertrude Murder Ophelia?

Tuesday, November 20, 2007 -- Epistemology And Cryptozoology

Monday, November 19, 2007 -- This Cartoon Drawing Scheme


Friday, November 16, 2007 -- The Appearance Of Glitter

Thursday, November 15, 2007 -- Gibson’s New Robot Guitar

Wednesday, November 14, 2007 -- Der Gelbe Hai

Tuesday, November 13, 2007 -- Clockwork Musicians

Monday, November 12, 2007 -- Sasquatch And Anime Girl, #5


Friday, November 09, 2007 -- Technology And The Magic Of Images

Thursday, November 08, 2007 -- Technology And The Magic Of Music

Wednesday, November 07, 2007 -- Wayne Thiebaud Where You Least Expect Him

Tuesday, November 06, 2007 -- Norwegian Forest Cats

Monday, November 05, 2007 -- Rate Of God


Friday, November 02, 2007 -- Who’s Gonna Play You?

Thursday, November 01, 2007 -- Halloween Recap 2007



October Archive


Wednesday, October 31, 2007 -- Playing With Dolls

Tuesday, October 30, 2007 -- Death (In The American Eccentric Empirical Tradition)

Monday, October 29, 2007 -- Dear Angie: Get Well Soon!


Friday, October 26, 2007 -- A Nod To Guitars With Knobs

Thursday, October 25, 2007 -- Fast Art

Wednesday, October 24, 2007 -- Will Barnet Discusses ‘Soft Boiled Eggs’

Tuesday, October 23, 2007 -- Strange Goings On In Women’s Tennis

Monday, October 22, 2007 -- Advice On Love From Smallville’s Lex Luthor


Friday, October 19, 2007 -- A James D. Watson Skinhead Thug Goodbye

Thursday, October 18, 2007 -- Lip-Synching For Animation

Wednesday, October 17, 2007 -- Psychedelic Shadows

Tuesday, October 16, 2007 -- ITV Gives 'Frankenstein' A Feminine Makeover

Monday, October 15, 2007 -- He Wanted To Show Her Something Weird


Friday, October 12, 2007 -- Art And Magazines

Thursday, October 11, 2007 -- Communicating The Arts Of Brittany Murphy

Wednesday, October 10, 2007 -- Smallville: Questions And Trepidations

Tuesday, October 09, 2007 -- Cool Old Things Versus Cool Modern Things

Monday, October 08, 2007 -- “Boozing Angelina Collapses!” *


Friday, October 05, 2007 -- The Almost, Sort Of, Kinda Wisdom Of Blake Edwards

Thursday, October 04, 2007 -- Dead Monkeys. Swimming Pools. Movie Stars.

Wednesday, October 03, 2007 -- “Let Me Tell You Something About Los Angeles”

Tuesday, October 02, 2007 -- Sea Monkey Update, Fall 2007

Monday, October 01, 2007 -- 2007 3rd Quarter Index --



September Archive


Friday, September 28, 2007 -- Faraday’s Legacy

Thursday, September 27, 2007 -- Faraday On Speculation In ‘Natural Philosophy’

Wednesday, September 26, 2007 -- Faraday On The Non-Rotation Of Lines-Of-Force

Tuesday, September 25, 2007 -- Faraday On The Separation Of Matter And Space

Monday, September 24, 2007 -- Rex Grossman And Ximena Gonzalez


Friday, September 21, 2007 -- Knobs

Thursday, September 20, 2007 -- Blazing Dawn

Wednesday, September 19, 2007 -- Pastels (Dry): A French Perspective

Tuesday, September 18, 2007 -- Mischa Barton In The News

Monday, September 17, 2007 -- Starhopping Through Capricornus To Neptune


Friday, September 14, 2007 -- Isaac Newton and Stephen Wolfram, Angie, Neptune

Thursday, September 13, 2007 -- Sir Isaac Newton: An Indian Perspective

Wednesday, September 12, 2007 -- Nonstandard Analysis: A (Lost) French Perspective

Tuesday, September 11, 2007 -- Isaac Newton And Britney Spears

Monday, September 10, 2007 -- Sir Isaac Newton: A French Perspective


Friday, September 07, 2007 -- Magic, The Elder Gods, Fall Festivals

Thursday, September 06, 2007 -- Oil Pastels: The Cray-Pas History

Wednesday, September 05, 2007 -- Bee Dates Orchids Back To Time Of Dinosaurs

Tuesday, September 04, 2007 -- Star Hopping



August Archive


Friday, August 31, 2007 -- Michael Vick in “The Man In The Chain-Link Cage”

Thursday, August 30, 2007 -- Michael Vick’s Dead Dog Blues Waltz

Wednesday, August 29, 2007 -- Dr. Phil, Michael Vick And Hillary Clinton

Tuesday, August 28, 2007 -- Michael Vick And Garfield

Monday, August 27, 2007 -- How Do You Make A Dead Dog Float? *


Friday, August 24, 2007 -- Fred Hoyle On Insensate Fury And Really Odd Explanations

Thursday, August 23, 2007 -- Fred Hoyle On Time And Really Odd Explanations

Wednesday, August 22, 2007 -- Solar System Formation And Really Odd Explanations

Tuesday, August 21, 2007 -- Exploding Planets And Really Odd Explanations

Monday, August 20, 2007 -- Gravity, Redshifts And Really Odd Explanations


Friday, August 17, 2007 -- Corporate Communications #5: Alison

Thursday, August 16, 2007 -- Corporate Communications #4: Alison (Introduction)

Wednesday, August 15, 2007 -- Corporate Communications #3: Shelley

Tuesday, August 14, 2007 -- Corporate Communications #2: Penny

Monday, August 13, 2007 -- Corporate Communications #1: Pamela


Friday, August 10, 2007 -- Cosmic Swarms

Thursday, August 09, 2007 -- Cosmic Scorpion

Wednesday, August 08, 2007 -- Cosmic Fireflies

Tuesday, August 07, 2007 -- Cosmic Butterflies

Monday, August 06, 2007 -- Stars And Bugs


Friday, August 03, 2007 -- Rembrandt, Magic And Constructing Reality

Thursday, August 02, 2007 -- Rembrandt, Magic And Retinex

Wednesday, August 01, 2007 -- Rembrandt, Magic And Substance Becomes Mind



July Archive


Tuesday, July 31, 2007 -- Rembrandt, Magic And Colors Beyond Words

Monday, July 30, 2007 -- Rembrandt And Magic


Friday, July 27, 2007 -- Mischievous Girls: A Cautionary Tale

Thursday, July 26, 2007 -- Mischievous Girls: A Paragraph Re-Write

Wednesday, July 25, 2007 -- Mischievous Girls—Hard Times

Tuesday, July 24, 2007 -- Mischievous Girls In The News—Lindsay!

Monday, July 23, 2007 -- Mischievous Girls Make The World Go Round


Friday, July 20, 2007 -- “How To Survive a Robot Uprising: Tips on Defending Yourself Against the Coming Rebellion”

Thursday, July 19, 2007 -- A Resurgence Of Things Wagner

Wednesday, July 18, 2007 -- Nessie Monster Spotted In Chinese Lake

Tuesday, July 17, 2007 -- Is Bigfoot In Michigan?

Monday, July 16, 2007 -- Batteries And Bunnies And Bras—Oh My!


Friday, July 13, 2007 -- The End Of The Renaissance

Thursday, July 12, 2007 -- “One Of The Hardest-To-Imagine Tenets Of Ptolemaic Astronomy”

Wednesday, July 11, 2007 -- Has Science Proven That The Earth Is Stationary?

Tuesday, July 10, 2007 -- The Windmills Of PHYSICS TODAY

Monday, July 09, 2007 -- Catholic Apologetics International


Friday, July 06, 2007 -- Signs And Symbols Of Jung

Thursday, July 05, 2007 -- Overture! Curtains! Lights! Cue The Dog!

Tuesday, July 03, 2007 -- Amateur Science--Strong Tradition, Bright Future

Monday, July 02, 2007 -- 2007 2nd Quarter Index



June Archive


Friday, June 29, 2007 -- Wild Randomness

Thursday, June 28, 2007 -- A Real Hawk Scares A Fashion Swan

Wednesday, June 27, 2007 -- Venus In The Office At Night

Tuesday, June 26, 2007 -- No Croakers, No Nervous Lubbers

Monday, June 25, 2007 -- The Golfing Animal


Friday, June 22, 2007 -- The Leisure Class(es)

Thursday, June 21, 2007 -- Michael Lau: Freedom, Fun And Quality

Wednesday, June 20, 2007 -- What Is A Toy?

Tuesday, June 19, 2007 -- Rise Of The Almost, Sort Of, Kinda Silver Surfer

Monday, June 18, 2007 -- The Beginning Of The End (Of Cicadas)


Friday, June 15, 2007 -- Inca Roads: Bassoon And Marimba

Thursday, June 14, 2007 -- Inca Roads (Introduction)

Wednesday, June 13, 2007 -- “It’s More Fun If It’s A Monster”

Tuesday, June 12, 2007 -- Ugobe’s Pleo: A Re-Engineered Camarasaurus

Monday, June 11, 2007 -- New Species Of High Fashion Frog


Friday, June 08, 2007 -- Gender Terror And Reality Revisionism

Thursday, June 07, 2007 -- Star Trek And Reality Revisionism

Wednesday, June 06, 2007 -- Pirates And Reality Revisionism

Tuesday, June 05, 2007 -- Trickle Down Paris Hilton

Monday, June 04, 2007 -- A Paris Hilton Jailhouse Review


Friday, June 01, 2007 -- Card Players As An Occult Metaphor?



May Archive


Thursday, May 31, 2007 -- Chance And God

Wednesday, May 30, 2007 -- Gambling And Synchronized Oscillators

Tuesday, May 29, 2007 -- Roulette And The Magic Of Math


Friday, May 25, 2007 -- Dumpling Kaiser #5: Thinking About It Now

Thursday, May 24, 2007 -- Dumpling Kaiser #4: Clouds

Wednesday, May 23, 2007 -- Dumpling Kaiser #3: Jack And Jill

Tuesday, May 22, 2007 -- Dumpling Kaiser #2: Dumpling Rising

Monday, May 21, 2007 -- Dumpling Kaiser #1: Dumpling


Friday, May 18, 2007 -- Computers, Language And The Goblin Universe

Thursday, May 17, 2007 -- Do you need an operating system?

Wednesday, May 16, 2007 -- A Fourth Generation Computer Language

Tuesday, May 15, 2007 -- Design Of A [Computer] Language

Monday, May 14, 2007 -- Two Schools Of Thought About Computer Science


Friday, May 11, 2007 -- Britney Spears: Death By Dinosaur

Thursday, May 10, 2007 -- My Favorite Dinosaur Book

Wednesday, May 09, 2007 -- Dinosaurs And Low Gravity

Tuesday, May 08, 2007 -- Dino Rat

Monday, May 07, 2007 -- Loch Ness Toad


Friday, May 04, 2007 -- ‘Lost Horizon’ Versus ‘Camelot’ — #5: Shangri-La

Thursday, May 03, 2007 -- ‘Lost Horizon’ Versus ‘Camelot’ — #4: Fie On Goodness!

Wednesday, May 02, 2007 -- ‘Lost Horizon’ Versus ‘Camelot’ — #3: Two Different Worlds

Tuesday, May 01, 2007 -- ‘Lost Horizon’ Versus ‘Camelot’ — #2: It’s May!



April Archive


Monday, April 30, 2007 -- ‘Lost Horizon’ Versus ‘Camelot’ — #1


Friday, April 27, 2007 -- My Favorite Book About Freud

Thursday, April 26, 2007 -- Freud For Ten Bucks

Wednesday, April 25, 2007 -- Freud Through Ayn Rand Colored Glasses

Tuesday, April 24, 2007 -- Will Freud Finally Slip?

Monday, April 23, 2007 -- Freud And Cake


Friday, April 20, 2007 -- Columbine

Thursday, April 19, 2007 -- The Ax Ismail/Holden Caulfield Connection

Wednesday, April 18, 2007 -- The Videogame Contradiction

Tuesday, April 17, 2007 -- The Copycat Effect

Monday, April 16, 2007 -- Romance, Terror And The Word ‘Piss’


Friday, April 13, 2007 -- Peter Gave Himself Up For Lost

Thursday, April 12, 2007 -- God In “A New Kind Of Science”

Wednesday, April 11, 2007 -- Underwater This Is The Cathedral Sea

Tuesday, April 10, 2007 -- A Mainstream Sports Reporter Meets Evangelical Beliefs

Monday, April 09, 2007 -- My Little Cthulhu


Friday, April 06, 2007 -- Enchantment And Notan

Thursday, April 05, 2007 -- Distortion And Notan

Wednesday, April 04, 2007 -- The Solid And The Fluid In Notan

Tuesday, April 03, 2007 -- Notan

Monday, April 02, 2007 -- 2007 1st Quarter Index



March Archive


Friday, March 30, 2007 -- Ode To An American Zombie

Thursday, March 29, 2007 -- My Favorite Cannibalism Song

Wednesday, March 28, 2007 -- The Basic Zombie Plot

Tuesday, March 27, 2007 -- My Favorite Zombie Movie

Monday, March 26, 2007 -- Rave To The Grave: Return Of The Living Dead #5


Friday, March 23, 2007 -- Tiny Purple Fishes Swim Laughing

Thursday, March 22, 2007 -- Sasquatch And Anime Girl, #4

Wednesday, March 21, 2007 -- Triss

Tuesday, March 20, 2007 -- Gloomy Bear

Monday, March 19, 2007 -- RIP Brad Delp (June 12, 1951 – March 9, 2007)


Friday, March 16, 2007 -- Surfacing Like Well The Loch Ness Monster

Thursday, March 15, 2007 -- “A Most Excellent Philosophy”

Wednesday, March 14, 2007 -- AquaBabies

Tuesday, March 13, 2007 -- Real Life Shapeshifting

Monday, March 12, 2007 -- “Will Slime Molds Take Over Our Moon, Now?”


Friday, March 09, 2007 -- Jack Chick

Thursday, March 08, 2007 -- Captain America Has Been Cut Down By A Sniper

Wednesday, March 07, 2007 -- Is Paris Hilton A Superhero?

Tuesday, March 06, 2007 -- Is Paris Hilton A Supervillain?

Monday, March 05, 2007 -- Seven Characteristics Of A Supervillain


Friday, March 02, 2007 -- Happy Birthday Theodor Geisel!

Thursday, March 01, 2007 -- Mandelbrot Flirt



February Archive


Wednesday, February 28, 2007 -- Anna Nicole Smith’s Dead Body, Jokes 1, 2 and 3

Tuesday, February 27, 2007 -- A Mischa Barton Loose End

Monday, February 26, 2007 -- In The Realms Of The Unreal Right Here


Friday, February 23, 2007 -- No Zen Here

Thursday, February 22, 2007 -- Why I Almost Never Use Rhyme

Wednesday, February 21, 2007 -- Winona Ryder Redux

Tuesday, February 20, 2007 -- My Britney Shaves Her Head Theory

Monday, February 19, 2007 -- Why Catching A Cold Makes Some People Cuter


Friday, February 16, 2007 -- Mycelium And Aurora Borealis

Thursday, February 15, 2007 -- Crannogs

Wednesday, February 14, 2007 -- Toadspawn Is Quite Unlike Frogspawn

Tuesday, February 13, 2007 -- A Woodland Path Encircles The Loch

Monday, February 12, 2007 -- There Is Only One Lake In Scotland


Friday, February 09, 2007 -- Jeanne Hébuterne — Art As A Grail

Thursday, February 08, 2007 -- Rocks In His Head

Wednesday, February 07, 2007 -- The Goblin Universe Sexuality Gedankenexperiment

Tuesday, February 06, 2007 -- The Other Reason To Burn Witches

Monday, February 05, 2007 -- Talking To People Who Can’t Talk To You


Friday, February 02, 2007 -- Micro Freudian Imperatives

Thursday, February 01, 2007 -- De Humani Corporis Fabrica



January Archive


Wednesday, January 31, 2007 -- meeting archy and mehitabel

Tuesday, January 30, 2007 -- Keys With Their Baffling Variety Of Curves

Monday, January 29, 2007 -- A Play Within Limitations


Friday, January 26, 2007 -- Natural History

Thursday, January 25, 2007 -- Night Buggin’

Wednesday, January 24, 2007 -- Spiders And Snakes

Tuesday, January 23, 2007 -- Actias Luna

Monday, January 22, 2007 -- Spiders


Friday, January 19, 2007 -- Daddy Needs A New Pair Of Shoes

Thursday, January 18, 2007 -- Melanie Daniels In Paris

Wednesday, January 17, 2007 -- Britney Spears And The Southern Polar Opening

Tuesday, January 16, 2007 -- The Mind’s Ocean

Monday, January 15, 2007 -- Middle Earth


Friday, January 12, 2007 -- Cryptobiosis

Thursday, January 11, 2007 -- Real Mainstream Professional Publishing #3

Wednesday, January 10, 2007 -- Real Mainstream Professional Publishing #2

Tuesday, January 09, 2007 -- Real Mainstream Professional Publishing #1

Monday, January 08, 2007 -- Have You Seen The Stars Tonight?


Friday, January 05, 2007 -- Saturn and Titan, And The Pleiades

Thursday, January 04, 2007 -- Asymmetry In Its Simplest State

Wednesday, January 03, 2007 -- Cynthiae Figuras Aemulatur Mater Amorum

Tuesday, January 02, 2007 -- The Full Moon Never Eclipses The Sun

Goldfish And Sea Monsters #3 of 3

Seeing a monster isn’t the real trick.
The tricky bit comes after you’ve seen one.
Monsters appear, disappear and they’re done.
But the brain stays numb, heart frozen, soul sick.

I’ve come to suspect the dark is most thick
in the quantum foam below where thoughts run
and monsters breed not away from the sun
in seas, lakes, tanks, but in us. I, relic.

I’ve stood with a woman talking, thinking.
We looked at fish. We walked away from fish.
Some things, other things, stayed with us. Or me.

But those things won’t drown me. I’m not sinking.
I change monsters to type. I get my wish.
I write the unseen as poem and story.

Goldfish And Sea Monsters #2 of 3

Scientists wonder what monsters would eat
and do they have gills or do they breath air
and what’s the brood size of a breeding pair
because just one monster would be a cheat.

If one is real there must be a complete
sustainable population somewhere
deeper, darker, hidden out of the glare
but also real, waiting to meet and greet.

I’ve stood looking at fish with a woman
and somehow I’ve seen monsters emerging
from between the things we saw together.

When we’re not together I’m just a man
seeing things we saw and didn’t, surging
panic sometimes, as the unseen gather.

Goldfish And Sea Monsters #1 of 3

People have seen monsters in the deep seas
for thousands of years. For almost as long
people have seen creatures that don’t belong
in the water under a Loch Ness breeze.

Looking at water, our back to the trees,
we see things we can’t see and know we’re wrong
but we see them, still, and try to stay strong
feeling our brain turning numb, our heart freeze.

I’ve seen goldfish swimming in a big tank
at a library not far from my home.
I’ve stood with a woman I know looking

and the fish sometimes looked back, their eyes blank.
Somewhere in the spaces—the quantum foam—
between the fish I’ve seen monsters lurking.

What Is Love? 4—Forbidden Love

Kate Moss (And Why My Life Is Derailed)

Why My Life Is Derailed

The classic route to transform from an unpublished writer to a published writer is by submitting short stories to pulp magazines. Pulp magazines do not pay well, but they have been around for many, many decades. They’re an acceptable ‘farm league’ to publishers looking at novel manuscripts. They’re read by story editors at movie studios looking to license ‘product.’

There are basically four pulp magazines left, two science fiction magazines and two mystery magazines. The best way to maximize chances of getting published is always to keep four manuscripts at market.

Right now I have two manuscripts at market, one science fiction story and one mystery story.

Yesterday I’d planned to work on a second science fiction story (about a guy who sees something like a sea monster in a large fish tank). However, I got to thinking about this blog. I knew what Friday’s post is going to be but I had no idea what I was going to put up today.

So, instead of working on a short story that could be purchased by one of two magazines and potentially could be sold to a movie studio, I spent most of yesterday afternoon drawing a cartoon of Kate Moss that will never go farther than this blog.

[sighs]

Yesterday was my life in microcosm.

I didn’t waste time. I didn’t zone out in front of the TV watching Family Guy dvds. I didn’t throw away the day pitching pennies with layabout friends.

I got work done. I created something. And I’m even pretty happy with what I created.

But the immediate return-on-investment of a Kate Moss cartoon is pretty darn near zero, and the long term potential return-on-investment of a Kate Moss cartoon is, let’s see, yep, the needle is still reading right about zero.

In terms of me investing my time and energy, in the coming New Year I’ve got to attach a higher priority to this whole return-on-investment thing.

What Is Love? 3—Gorilla My Dreams

Yet the pygmies appeared relaxed now—at least until Amy came crashing back through the underbrush. Then there were shouts and swiftly drawn bows; Amy was terrified and ran to Peter, jumping up on him and clutching his chest—and making him thoroughly muddy.

The pygmies engaged in a lively discussion among themselves, trying to decide what Amy’s arrival meant. Several questions were asked of Munro. Finally, Elliot set Amy back down on the ground and said to Munro, “What did you tell them?”

“They wanted to know if the gorilla was yours, and I said yes. They wanted to know if the gorilla was female, and I said yes. They wanted to know if you had relations with the gorilla; I said no. They said that was good, that you should not become too attached to the gorilla, because that would cause you pain.”

“Why pain?”

“They said when the gorilla grows up, she will either run away into the forest and break your heart or kill you.”

Michael Crichton
“Congo”

Why Don’t Turkeys Wear Bras?

10. Straps leave tan lines on their feathers

9. Turkeys are sluts

8. They say if Britney Spears doesn’t have to wear panties then they don’t have to wear bras

7. They always blow their fashion budget on earrings and handbags

6. Turkeys are terrified of hook-and-eye closures and their wings are too stubby to reach front hooks

5. They can never remember what first base, second base and third base mean anyway

4. They don’t have sinks to wash fine hand washables in

3. Transvestite roosters always steal everything from turkeys’ lingerie drawers

2. If they don’t wear bras then weasels can’t snap their bra straps

1. The answer is Victoria’s real Secret and she’ll kill me if I tell

Lost Gloves

Winter officially hasn’t started
but I’ve seen about a dozen lost gloves.

There’s one on the sidewalk outside my house.
There’s another on the curb of the street
that curves past the front of the library.
There’s one by the grocery store. I’ve seen more.

My first thought’s always, “That’s sad. Poor lost glove.
All crumpled up now and all alone now.”

But also I remind myself lost gloves
might be happy to have gotten away
from cold hands that responded to the warmth
the gloves provided by being thoughtless
and careless, losing the gloves that warmed them.

Too bad lost gloves do not write poetry
or keep blogs. I bet lost gloves have stories
and I bet the stories lost gloves could tell
would have weird twists we never expected.

The Leaky Yellow Pencil

New Shirt

Today I’m wearing a new shirt.
It’s not a sweat shirt or tee shirt.
It’s a regular buttoned shirt.
All of my other buttoned shirts
are so old they’re missing buttons
and are way over-sized on me
because I once was much fatter.
I’m nervous about my new shirt.
It fits me reasonably well
and it isn’t missing buttons
but I’ve sort of become used to
wearing the kind of clothing that
many people turn into rags.
I remind myself life is change.
I’m nervous about my new shirt.
In fact, I purchased two new shirts
earlier this week. One is gray
and the other shirt is dark blue.
Today I’m wearing the gray shirt.
I’m thinking if I live through this
then I can go with the color.
I remind myself life is change.
I’m being brave. Embracing it.
I’m nervous about my new shirt
but I’ve tucked it in and I’m dressed.

Snail Tricks

Inconsolable: Top Ten Anagrams

10)     In a cello snob

9)       A no bison cell

8)       Can be ill soon

7)       No balls on ice

6)       I label no cons

5)       Can bill noose

4)       Cable sin loon

3)       Cool snail Ben

2)       I clean no slob

1)       Nice balloons

This Makes Me Think Of “The Swan”

I’ve never been good with music. But I try not to let that stop me from having fun playing around with music.

A couple of weeks ago I posted a link to a video of a robot playing flute, performing “Le Cygne.” [Clockwork Musicians] I liked it a lot. (Both the robot and the composition.) I felt no imperative to buy the sheet music and play “Le Cygne” exactly, but I wanted to be able to play something that sounded similarly evocative and cool.

So I sat down and came up with this.

Having been raised with pop music [normally I’d saying something here like, ‘For better and worse,’ but with pop music it’s just, ‘For bad and worse’] I tend to reduce [“trivialize”] everything to big note, easy play, eight bar formats. That having been said, this really does make me think of “Le Cygne.”

And I enjoy playing it and hearing it.

1) I haven’t transcribed anything for a long time. I may have made some blunt errors here that I’m not experienced enough to even notice.

2) This is sort of a lead sheet version of what I play. I’d never play just the melody or just the harmony. Rather I’d try to grab a combination and break up things with arpeggios and tweaked rhythms.

3) I’d actually play the melody an octave up from what’s notated here.

4) The chords are 1-5-7-3 guitar inversions. Probably they’d need to be restructured for keyboards.



The Good and the Good Enough

Something this simple isn’t a real “piece” of any kind. And something like this isn’t “good” in any of the amazing ways “Le Cygne” is good.

But in some ways for me something like this is good enough.

The way I play this is to first play it through as simply as I can, maybe just the melody. Then I play it through in the most complicated way I can, finding a chord to harmonize every note. Then I look for a rhythm to play through the piece using some combination of melody and harmony. It will be different every time I play it, depending on my mood and how warmed up my fingers are. It’s not art and it’s probably not good music, but it’s fun and satisfying.

It’s good enough.

I think about this in many different contexts, the “good” and the “good enough.” (The shave from my electric razor isn’t “good” but it’s “good enough.”) I often find myself preferring the good enough to the actual good. [What Is Love? 1—The Mole People ]

I’m sure I’ll be writing more on this topic in later posts.

“Christian Nation — No Foot Play!”

Karen Kilimnik

I’m not a big fan of modern art. I don’t really like pretension or cynicism or the dehumanization that happens when reasonably smart people try to take what they think of as a “realistic” look at the world and see only troubles and sadness and grief, and then try to share their “vision” through art constructs. I admire the phenomenal skills and deep erudition of many modern artists but I simply can’t stand their ‘sense of life.’

Every now and then, however, someone in that milieu [I’m not happy using that word, but it seems to fit] manages to retain a sense of playfulness and fun along with their sensitivity and refinement and skills.

And then things are about as good as they can get. It makes putting up with all the other stuff worthwhile.

Karen Kilimnik seems to be such a person.

The current issue (12/07) of “Art In America” [I mentioned this magazine in, Fast Art, but see also, Art And Magazines] has a cover story about Kilimnik, “An Artist and Her Alter Egos."

Kilimnik does all the kinds of modern art stuff that usually make me roll my eyes. She creates ‘assemblages.’ She creates mixed-media ‘installations.’ She creates video ‘experiences.’

An unfriendly art critic once described one of her installations as appearing like, “... a bedroom sanctuary of an overwrought teenager.”

But Kilimnik does serious pieces and amusing pieces, and even her serious pieces typically have an element of energy and fun to them.

She did an installation ‘about’ schoolyard shootings and along with the graphics she created, the piece featured a boom-box constantly playing the Boomtown Rat’s hit about a school shooting, “I Don’t Like Mondays.” It was a pretty cool song, and it’s very cool seeing someone keeping the song alive in such a dynamic way.

Along with the silly-ass modern forms like assemblages and installations and such, Kilimnik also creates paintings. And even her paintings are rich with juxtapositions of seriousness and humor. She might put seemingly classical images next to her renditions of still images from the “Avengers” TV show. Very cool. She might create ‘self-portraits’ with her ‘self’ in an idiosyncratic scene replaced by some pop icon. Very cool, too.

I would have put up with a whole year of going to pointless, dull, boring and depressing art shows just to see, for instance, Kilimnik’s painting, “Me—I forgot the wire cutters—getting the wire cutters from the car to break into stonehenge.”

Stuff like this gets me excited. It makes my hands shake. Not because I’m nervous. But because I’m happy.

That happens every now and then.

Here’s a pic taken from the current (12/07) issue of “Art In America” of Kilimnik (as Kate Moss!) in her painting, “Me—I forgot the wire cutters—getting the wire cutters from the car to break into stonehenge:”

Snow Worries

Salt trucks rumbling in the darkness.

Narrow escapes walking on ice.

Ominous wind chills. Gloves. Scarves. Hats.

Winter seventeen days away.




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We had our first real snowfall of the season last night. Only two or three inches, but everything outside is white.

I woke up and wrote an acrostic about it.

I don’t know which worries me more: The fact that the snow and slush and cold might make it harder to get together with a friend for tea or soup; or the fact that I woke up and wrote an acrostic.

“O” is for ominous . . .

My Orange Hat In Theory And Practice

I sometimes wear an orange baseball cap.

I don’t wear it as much as I used to. Around here these last few years many homeless bums have been dressing in screwball clothes. A middle age guy like me who sometimes doesn’t shave wearing an orange baseball cap projects too much of a homeless bum vibe for me to be comfortable with.

But the idea of distinctive headgear goes back to when I was a teenager.

I belonged to a tennis club at a public park, McKinley Park, on Chicago’s near south side. For many of us the tennis club was the center for what passed for our social life. It was the hub of our activities, our meeting place, morning, noon and night. And the location we met at was the old tennis courts along 37th Street. When we weren’t playing, we’d be sitting in the grass talking or standing up, leaning against the park bench by the water fountain talking. (There were newer courts along Western Avenue, but club members preferred the older, more secluded courts.)

The tennis courts and grass and bench were set off from 37th Street by about fifty yards or so. Tennis club members pretty much structured their whole social life around the courts. Students after school would hang out there. Adults after work would hang out there. Friday and Saturday afternoons anyone looking for company in the evening would hang out by the bench or sit in the grass.

It was standard practice for tennis club members to drive along 37th Street when they were going to or from anywhere else during the day. Whatever they were doing they’d drive past the courts, check out who was playing, who was hanging out.

With the courts and park bench a little distance back from the street, the more distinctive a person’s ‘look’ was the easier it was to see them when driving along 37th Street.

Sailor Bob wore a floppy white hat. Maryjo wore her hair long and short white tennis skirts. Wally always wore a gray sweatshirt. JoAnn [tennis club JoAnn, not this Joanne] always wore white tennis shorts and a dark shirt. Everyone had some ‘look’ that was pretty easy to recognize at a distance.

I always wore a brown or red or orange hat.

The idea was when you drove along 37th Street you could look over at the courts and bench and easily see who was out, who was playing and who was just hanging around.

The idea was when you stood around, just hanging out, people could see you from 37th Street and friends would park and come over, play or hang out, too.

Dressing with some kind of distinctive look that could be seen from a distance became a kind of impromptu behavior—today I’d say ‘emergent’ behavior—that nobody in the tennis club ever really talked about but everybody engaged in.

Even after I moved away from the south side, after I stopped playing tennis, dressing with some kind of visible tell-tale has always seemed like a good idea.

My friends can recognize me from a distance, come over and say, ‘Hi.’ People who want nothing to do with me can see me coming and turn away.

It’s a good theory. The monkey wrench in the works nowadays is this business with homeless bums being the people out in public with the most ‘distinctive’ looks.

It’s just not a good trade off to stand out from the masses by blending in with the flotsam and jetsam.

I don’t wear my orange baseball cap much anymore.

Theory is cool but practice rules.

I don’t mind standing out but I don’t want to look like a bum.