Tricycle dream

Last night:

I am riding a tiny kids' tricycle (as opposed to the large adult tricycle, you say? -- yes) everywhere I go, on the side of the highway. Cars flying past at 80 miles an hour, occasionally honking at me. I don't feel silly or embarrassed; just focused on getting where I need to go.

I'm on my way to a second-hand store to try to buy a radio. I HAVE a radio -- but apparently it does not pick up enough channels.

All the radios in this shop are massive and ancient. I like them, but don't know how I could get one home on my tricycle. (Also, they're absurdly expensive -- not like antiques, though; just because they're supposed to be good radios, according to the lady.)

Later I'm with my dad, and he notices I'm acting kind of funny -- and that I can't seem to remember anything for more than a minute. My short-term memory is just gone. I notice my head hurts a bit, and discover a bump on the back of my head. It's a very protuberant egg -- I laugh: "It's like a cartoon lump!" I hadn't noticed it before, but now that I'm aware of it, it hurts like hell.

Later I'm at home, trying to clean off these two bananas. They're filthy and appear disgusting and rotten -- but somehow I know they're good, I just can't peel them easily cause they're covered in slime and dark muck.

And that's it.


(But, then, I should really just shut my bloody trap. Shouldn't I.)

Free Market Medicine At Work

Police seek 'professionals' who removed St. Paul man's testicles

"
Police searched the home in the 600 block of York Avenue on July 28, looking for a list of items including blood, medical instruments, fingerprints, documents discussing medical procedures, computers, and testicles.
. . . . . . . .
"

Weird... Aside from the fingerprints, that's identical to a list I myself made earlier today. (Hope they're having better luck than I am -- I've only crossed off two things so far.)

Walking Round The World: a $20,000 Wager

My great, great grandfather Walter Ian Detlaf Johanesberg, and his assistant Oliver Bartholomew Comstock III.

(Sadly, they never made it further than Omaha.)



(But, then, I should really just shut my bloody trap. Shouldn't I.)

Carnal Art

"
Since 1990, Orlan has been undergoing a series of surgical procedures entitled “The Reincarnation of Saint Orlan,” which are staged in theatrical surgery suites and performed and accompanied by spoken word and live music. Over the course of these operations, Orlan has transformed her physical appearance into a “composite auto-portrait” with features from famous female figures in Western art history: the chin of Botticelli's Venus, the lips of Gustave Moreau's Europa, the eyes of Gérôme's Psyche, and the brow of Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa.

In the surgical act, the drawings upon Orlan's face are quickly and dramatically replaced by incisions that are both clinical and creative, as the surgeon breaks down and reconstructs a new physical appearance in accordance with an artistic and psychological construct of beauty. The graphic images of her face being sliced open with scalpels and pierced by needles are shocking and unsettling to many, dramatizing the extremes to which women will go to achieve the elusive ideal of feminine beauty that is ultimately unattainable and even horrific. Orlan intends to shock, challenge convention and provoke discussions of taboo issues, for, as she states, “Art can and must change the world, for that is its only justification.”
"


"
The French performance artist whose assumed name is Orlan has embarked on a campaign of self-transformation through plastic surgery. The photo-documentation of her operation/performances furnishes both the imagery and the financial support for her art. Below, the author grapples with the many issues raised by a body of work that gives new meaning to the term "cutting edge."
"
[ link ]

Now THAT'S art!

See?! Cars are BAD!!

Fortunately or me, I usually just taking my flying belt to work.





(But, then, I should really just shut my bloody trap. Shouldn't I.)

Sam Seder is The Man...

Wish he weren't relegated to the worst time slot on the worst day of the week (that is to say, "The Lord's Day") -- the owners/managers of Air America are clearly fools -- but at least he's still around.

p.s.: BRING BACK MIKE MALLOY!



(But, then, I should really just shut my bloody trap. Shouldn't I.)