rocket to nowhere

look closely

The photograph of my sister’s hand (on a bench in the recent addition to Minneapolis’ Walker Art Center) didn’t turn out as well as I would have liked. The tracing-paper-thinness of her skin, the myriad lines and cracks, the spots that look like cuts but aren’t—none of these things is as obvious in the photograph as in real life. Blame the light. Blame the photographer.

It didn’t occur to me until after I had picked the photographs that they are connected. I swear. It wasn’t until I was typing the html for the second photo that I thought, “Oh . . .” Let’s hear it for artistic juxtaposition! Hip hip . . . !

Usually, by the third paragraph, in cases such as this, the author begins to spin the metaphor, begins subtly to explain the deep hidden meaning to the reader: The cracked concrete and my sister’s eczematous hands are meaningful because—

In the fourth paragraph, if s/he’s good (or perhaps just cocksure), the author might attempt to extend the metaphor or the deep hidden meaning of the juxtapostion of his sister’s hands against the cracked concete to his entire family, their trip to Minneapolis, their interactions, their etc.

This author will attempt neither metaphor/deep hidden meaning, nor an extension of same.

I ain’t no dummy.

1.1 This was idea of all Bens. Blames it before you blames me. Or blames it for 51% at least. I assume that it is my whole disturbance, which I took and decided the idea to run with it. Blames me for the photos. But definitely debt Ben for the syntactic verruecktheit and idomatic the bricolage.

2.1 This weekend was given to me a photo by me graduating of the High School. In it you can see that my diploma was already given to me and that I am in, someone to shake hand. They can also see that I was not educated from much at one time. Now regarding the photo, I find it with difficulty to believe that I looked at all as. I surprise also, me which the latch plate happened, which I carry in the illustration. Unfortunately has I unite important and ehrfuerchtige latch plates over the years lost. Regarding, how frequently I carry a latch plate now, I am unfortunately surprised at my use by the word “,”, but I assume that I was attached always emotional to things. There is no reason for example thereby I the small, Penguinfingermarionette holds, which lies on a shelf over me. I not even know, where I received it. And it continues nevertheless, there living.

3.1 I hate dinners me form. Let me explain: I hate explain out, I will form for what for dinners. I hate, as expensively it is to eat well, and I long themselves after the days, when the Rich was fat and was thin arms. Now and I step also near at social comment here somewhat, who am not I oath that I would never do at all in this blog, now the only affordable ones meal elections those, which form you fatter than nut/mother Cass, those by the way died to strangle on a Truthahnsandwich although it is fair really comfortably and somehow poetically to believe.

WHAT FOLLOWS IS A WORK OF FICTION (DAMMIT)

[this is a reprint of memo 187_03.31.04]

Obtund Mess: (1968-1972) Formed spontaneously on an acid trip gone somewhat awry in early 1968, the band became quickly famous for their impenetrably loopy psychedelic music.

On February 29, 1968, in Normal, Illinois, Bob Navigablly, Earl Fundy, Arin Zaddick and Saul Vent all bought LSD from the same dealer, a man known only as Stoned Bums. The four men did not know each other at the time, and although the story is apocryphal, it is believed that at exactly 4:22 p.m., all four men ingested five hits of acid each, and that at exactly 9:37 p.m., they all found themselves at the intersection of Locust and Fell: Navigablly at the northwest corner, Fundy at the northeast, Zaddick at the southeast, and Vent at the southwest. According to the story, they all looked at each other and simultaneously said, “Do you hear that music, man?”

And so the band was formed. It took them most of their brief career to come up with a name for themselves (they went through Bunted Moss, Mounts Debs, Dumbo’s Nets, Dumb Stones, Numbest Sod, Best Mounds, and Modest Snub before, in December of 1971, deciding upon Obtund Mess), but what was clear from the moment of the band’s inception was how they would sound-with Navigablly singing lead and playing guitar, Fundy on another guitar, Zaddick on bass, and Vent on drums, they each attempted to play the music they were hearing on the night they met. The music was, of course, different for every member.

Success quickly followed, and after playing three or four abortive shows at local college bars, the band was signed to a major label (who, for legal reasons, has asked to remain unnamed in this book). They recorded their first album in about five hours, and called it A Gnome Catches 5.14. Several more albums followed in rapid succession, the most famous of which was 1970’s Nott a Geotechnic Nth Unit, which featured the hit single, “Harvesting Mimsy Powns,” a song which was described by at least one critic (who has also requested to remain unnamed) as “very likely the last song played by the dance band on the Titanic.”

Sometime in late 1971, each band member (under the supposed influence of his favorite groupie) began insisting that the music he heard in his head was the one true music the band should play. Fights broke out and were duly recorded (see the 1985 release: Crzyshaxarcsh!). Death threats were typed up and never mailed. Stoned Bums was called in to negotiate, but to no avail. Things went downhill just as quickly as they had gone up, and on February 29, 1972, the four members of Obtund Mess returned to the intersection of Locust and Fell in Normal, Illinois, went to their respective corners, each dropped five hits of Stoned Bums’ acid, and forgot the whole thing had
ever happened.

vs.

[this is not]

Hair today, gone tomorrow. In the spirit of the occasion, which shall remain unnamed, we hereby proclaim, this fleeting moment—no, this fleeting moment—to be National Cosmetologists’ Attention Span Moment! Shampoo gets in your ears and makes it difficult. Ads in trade weeklies pull at you and pull at you and pull at you.

More later, once we’ve figured out how to work this. Or perhaps you’d like to show us, provide us with a little explanation, organize a symposium? Less action and more talk—that’s our motto. Undetectable particles float into the ear canal and lodge themselves against the drum. Digital reverberations are not enough to dislodge them or deter them from their course, of course. Effects on the side may or may not include the following: the feeling of having shampoo in one’s ear; the sensation that this fleeting moment—no, this fleeting moment—is the fleeting moment you were waiting for that one time, but which never quite came; a twitching of the sensationless skin over the elbow; a desire to matriculate-sorry, make that micturate-sorry, no, matriculate was correct; loathsomeness. Of course, of course, of course we do! Which one do you mean? There are several, naturally-naturally, of course there are. Are you aware that if you buy 17 now, you can get a really quite amazing six to ten percent discount on your eighteenth through thirty-seventh purchases? More are being added even as we speak. Every single one of them is equipped with the most modern of the modern modernities and amenities—including, but not limited to the modern amenities you’ve come to expect from products of this caliber. Day-to-day operations are handled by a crack team of hair experts who know their jobs from root to split end, why do you ask?

I think it might be time to insert a note into these proceedings–a small bit of stepping out from behind the (what I see as) translucent curtain to wave and smile a little more clearly. We are working toward transparency (transparency + opacity = transpacity or opacparency) (by the way).

Specifically: The “versus” posts were each and every one taken from the “Cubicle Deathmatch” post, and most of the titles were picked from the aforementioned ur-post by readers of this blog. Special thanks and Shouts Out (not “shout outs” dammit) go to the following: Ornery Ninja Elf, le Croque Magnifique, Sool, Furey Hawk, BR & RD W, Voodie, others who shall remain Nameless, and almost but not quite Red Control Deck. The images were found by plugging all or part of one half of the versus equation into Google image search (GIS), poking around, and picking an image (yes, that does mean I found the strangely homoerotic picture of a soldier in WWII by typing the words “Cindy Crawford” into GIS). So, first a title was picked from “Cubicle Deathmatch,” then images were found, and then I wrote whatever came to mind after first, um, “meditating” on the title and the images. I don’t know if there is any Deep Hidden Meaning (DHM) in any of the “versus” posts (unless there’s some to be found in the extra syllable in “∞+1″) other than the DHM that is to be found in absolutely everything. Hier beginnen und enden alle meine paranoide Fantasien.

Less specifically: There might not be any DHM in this here en-tire blog. If there is, it is surely whatever DHM you create while reading it. And except for the extra syllable mentioned above, I’m not putting any secret or coded messages into what I write here (that, of course, is a blatant and outright and shameless lie–please see “on on off on off” from May 2nd, “the ornery ninja elf post” from April 20th, “supraliminal” from April 9th, and “So this is Monday already . . . right?” from April 4th). No but seriously, really, seriously, this blog exists for one reason, and one reason only: our amusement. That’s right, ours. Not just mine alone. As evidenced, I think, by my use of reader suggestion for titles to the “versus” posts, I am very interested in making this an interactive (or at the very least, dynamic) blog. I love the idea of the reader taking an active part in the creation of what is being read–and despite my initial resistance, I have come to realize that because of the ease of both commenting on and creating new, blogging really is one of the the best and easiest ways (presently) for writer and reader to interact. So, I will continue to read and write and post, and I will read your commentary and use it to continue writing and posting, and the circle of (this blog’s) life will continue.

Thank you for visiting, for reading, for continuing to read, for thinking about what you’re reading, for interpreting and commenting on what you’ve read, and for visiting again.