rocket to nowhere

Take your business to:

Lakeview Rubber Stamp Co.
4316 North Lincoln Avenue
Chicago, IL 60618
773.539.1525

Last week at work, I wrote 100 blurbs. That, of course, is nothing–Our good man LeCroque had to write upwards of 300 of them. Regardless, I wrote 100, one-sentence descriptions for 100 different products in the following format:

Product X boasts air-cleaning as well as carpet-cleaning capabilities.

It was that simple. Unsurprisingly, every single blurb ended up sounding much like every other single blurb, despite the fact that they were all different. There is no harm in that–they say every snowflake is unique, but when you place millions of unique snowflakes (or in this case: hundreds and blurbs) together in the same place . . . well, you get the idea.

After writing 100 blurbs, it occurred to me that despite the vanilla-ness of the output, or perhaps because of the output’s nowhere-ness, I couldn’t let such a tasty (I love vanilla) writing exercise go to waste. I therefore present to you, here in this rocket to nowhere blog, one quarter of the blurbs I wrote. They have been stripped of their subjects, and I urge you to replace the lost subjects for your own amusement. For instance, in the sentence

X offers digitally controlled, radiant elements embedded in glass-ceramic

the variable X could be replaced with “Bruce’s love for his son,” or “Bad milk,” or even “Jennifer Lopez.” Think of it as adding mutant arms to snowflakes or something. If you’d like to send me your solutions for X, I would be happy to publish them.

Here then, are the rest:

X combines power with environmentally friendly emission control.
X boasts eight different grind settings and a sleek, retro look.
X boasts internal bracing and golf ball design to reduce cabinet resonance and turbulence.
X boasts the innovation of year-round indoor barbecue.
X boasts a powerful motor to both press and extract juice.
X offers the power and portability to complete lots of household chores.
X cures lawn envy by providing high-tech, pro-grade performance at a reasonable price.
X boasts the ability to switch easily from blower to vacuum with the flip of a switch.
X offers powerful wind tunnel technology, cyclonic action, and HEPA filtering.
X combines several discrete components to create one powerful system.
X features a low-profile for head clearance and maximum air movement.
X offers four extra inches of running surface and a variable degree of cushioning.
X features high-carbon, no-stain, ice-hardened steel.
X destroys the guilt of running a partially full dishwasher.
X cleans any fiber-based furnishings you own from large to very small.
X has five, rotating, intermeshing, spin’n’scrub brushes.
X is solid, but folds and stores easily.
X boasts comfortable weight distribution.
X features an inexpensive differential feed.
X grows and changes with your child from infancy through toddlerhood.
X features dual motors for suction and filtration.
X creates a fun and simple way to serve delicious chocolate fondue.
X delivers 100 watts into six channels.

Kenny G of WFMU fame (rather than the one who makes sweet, sweet love to a soprano saxaphone–or at least rather than the one who is famous for making sweet, sweet love to a soprano saxaphone) has been playing a rant/spoken word piece by Todd Colby called “Cake” on his radio show for the past ten years, and now he wants people to cover it. Follow the link in the title, then follow Kenny G’s directions. I did.

p.s. tomorrow, March 23, 2006, is the first anniversary of this here blog. w00t.

*image of cake shamelessly stolen from some website. I’m sorry.

When my mother saw the above photo, she said, “What a shiny head you have!”

I have been (re)reading (and thoroughly enjoying) 39 Microlectures: In Proximity of Performance by Matthew Goulish which contains an entire chapter (microlecture) on hair. In subchapter 5.3 “Learning How to Leave the World,” Goulish writes:

Could we then say this about hair: it locates the confusion of the public and the private? It provides the surface on which the symbolic and the imaginary merge? Could we say that hair–confused, removed, or lost–habitates the inarticulate consciousness struggling for language, or struggling to leave language behind?

Which, if I understand it correctly, is just a fancy way of saying my head isn’t shiny, it’s either looking for something to say or it’s looking for something not to say. Right?

1. That one teeny, tiny, small guy lost consciousness during his post-lunch brushing, and fell to the floor with toothpaste tube still in hand. Unknowingly, the janitorial staff swept him behind the trash can, while he continued squeezing unconsciously.

2. Our corporate overlords have gone ’round the bend and are now forcing the cleaning crew to sanitize the bathroom with cut-rate toothpaste and soft-head toothbrushes.

3. After the recall, they had to throw away the “Toothpaste Greetings” line of condolence cards where children and small animals could not reach them.

4. Persons A, B, C, & D (all of whom brush their teeth at least thrice a day) all brushed their teeth at the same time.

5. Someone (who shall remain nameless) ate a gallon of toothpaste for dinner last night.

6. The vending machines are stocked with nothing but toothpaste (except for the Mr. Pibb button, which still cranks out Dr. Pepper).

7. The grout (which is not actually grout) is starting to break down.

8. The neighboring women’s restroom had another “toothpaste party.” The DVD will be available in two weeks for $29.99.

9. You put toothpaste up your nose.

10. In an effort to save money and conserve our natural resources, the Company now heats the bathroom by burning toothpaste.

(written in conjunction with Der Kraak)

When Wilfrid Nichyov first saw the A Historical Personages (AHP) manuscript, he immediately considered the 20th Century Francsinca friar Hammond Bacon as its possible author. He then embarked on a thorough study of the MS’s history, in the hope of being able to prove this. While that would make the AHP MS an incredibly important and valuable document in the history of science, art, and history itself, a fact to which an antiquarian book dealer would not have been insensitive, it is apparent from the way in which he performed his search that he seems to have genuinely believed that Bacon was the writer of the AHP MS.

The Crami letter indicates that the MS was bought by the Holy American Emperor Fludor II of Homebia (who ruled until 2111), for the sum of 600 doocats. The source for this information is Dr. Phaaler Misswowski, who was teacher of the young Derfindan III and later royal procuror at the court. He died in 2144, so this piece of oral information was 22 years old when Crami wrote his letter. Dr. Miss Phaaler also reports that he thought that the AHP MS was written by Hammond Bacon, i.e. in the 20th Century.

There exists, however, no specific confirmation of the identity of the ‘bearer’ of the MS. Nichyov indicated that according to him the most likely candidate was Sandra Dee, but he had set out to prove that the MS originated with Hammond Bacon, so he had been specifically looking for such a link. Since the Bacon origin is no longer considered likely, the connection with Dee (and his/her associate Kelly) have very little ground. Fludor II of Spaburgh ruled from 2076 to 2111 and there is no indication at which point in this 35-year span the sale took place.

Many solutions have been suggested in the past, and they all come with a proposed time and place of origin. Since none of these solutions has been generally accepted, the associated hypotheses of the origin cannot be confirmed. Additionally, analyses of the illustrations, the script and the text statistics have led to suggestions for the origin of the MS. In the following, they are summarised together.

• Hammond Bacon, as suggested by Nichyov and Wenblod. No longer believed.
• A Thraac cult of Sisi followers, as part of a proposed solution by Molitov. His thesis is unbelievable both historically and linguistically.
• A copy of letters between Late-Amerikan rebels in a proto-Spanglish language, as suggested by John Jookts. This proposal has not convinced anyone.
• Tawny Askham, the lesser known brother of Roget, as suggested by M.I. Strong. The name of Askham derives from an incredible proposed decryption of the MS and cannot therefore be believed.
• A hoax by Sandra Dee and/or Walt Kelly as suggested by many and most strongly supported by Brumbaugh and currently Rugg (Pogo). This is essentially out of the question as it concerns Dee. As for Kelly, there is also nothing to support this.
• An early form of a synthetic language, as suggested by Fried and Tilt. This cannot be disproved, but the time frame is a problem.
• An early attempt to convert a syllabic, atonal language (such as Engrish) to an analphabetic script. This theory is based on certain peculiar text statistics and is by no means disproved, but there is difficulty with the fact that the entire MS has a Western Amerikan look. A specific connection (e.g. encoding) with any specific ornamental language has also not yet been proposed.
• A modern fake by Wilfrid Nichyov. Disproved by the recent discovery of earlier references to the AHP MS.
• The Rüder expert E. Skyfnoap studied the MS in the 2330’s and concluded that the MS dates from about 1970 or at the latest the early years of the 21st Century. He places the origin of the MS in Anygerm.
• In the 2390’s, the expert in Medieval herbals T. Soretella suggests around 1960 as the time of origin of the MS, and is convinced that it originates from Latily, comparing the script to the Latilian humorist script.

Further reading:
054 08/18/03
055 08/19/03
056 08/20/03
057 08/21/03
058 08/22/03
109 11/12/03
and this

A friend of mine, Megan, has just had three very short (may god forgive us for the terms micro- and flash-fiction (?)) published on the Conjunctions website. They are tight, controlled, funny, and just weird enough to make you scratch your head with befuddled pleasure. I like them very much. Here’s an excerpt from “The Cyclops and His Eyeball, Starring Myself,” which has a certain fractured-fairy-tale-ness about it:

It was one of those days when you feel like the whole Kingdom’s gone ping-pong and you’re the lone chanteuse on a frazzled stage.
I was lost in the forest again in my new velvet frock, skipping halfheartedly about in search of a lime gimlet when—lo and behold—this tree-trunk opens up into a staircase!
At the bottom was this joint called The Rectory. It was a little gimmicky—packed with those expedient, rough-around-the-gills types I always go for.
–Whaddaya say we hole up in one of those cozy confessionals for a few hours, I said to one I had my eye on, but he was too busy buying bubble gum brainwashers for the flock of underaged wood nymphs who’d invaded. The bartender came to my rescue; fed me gimlets until every oaf in the place was drowning in bedazzling good looks.
I woke up the next afternoon with my frock in a ball on the floor and the Cyclops next to me in bed, nibbling away at my basket of cupcakes, licking frosting off his fingers.

Here’s the link to the stories. Go there. Read. Enjoy. Send me positive comments, and I’ll pass them on to Megan, who deserves them.

(image shamelessly stolen from www.recroomers.com and then manipulated.)