Throb

Seneca warned Nero

"However many you put to death, you will never kill your successor."

gapingvoid

Jason clues me in to gapingvoid, a site I hadn't seen before. This guy makes humorous markings on business cards. I'm not sure whether to be impressed by his self-marketing acumen or just by the fact that he's funny as hell.

Less dangerous this one, I hope

I've been sleeping oddly lately, I think because I've been drinking less and because it's fall. I entered a semi-lucid state this morning about 3am in which very tasty bizarre things were occuring all over the place. I was aware I was in a dream but didn't try fiddling with it much. I'll spare you the details but here's a curious part:

There was a small baby in a birthday card. Kind of part of the card. I pulled it out to hand it to my mother and it kind of dissolved into a fetus-like chunk of mewling flesh a little like something out of a Cronenberg movie. Like a living rat brain in a petri dish or flesh grown in a lab. Then things got strange.
As my mom took the baby thing, it started morphing again. A pink spongy, gelatinous slug-like thing. Aware of us and itself. Stateshift. A palpitating undersea sponge universe with slowly waving arms with sensors on the ends of them. A plasmoid ectomorph! It spoke to us telepathically: "What's wrong with you? What's wrong with you?"
By our reactions this was something of an oddity in this place.

Me 'n my Mac

Random burst of negativity

Some nonsense:

Screw the Floons,
the nasty fucks,
they cannot burst
their empty worlds.
They won't amount to much.

They have no umph
they have no verve
they have no sense of love.
They have no problem wearing lies,
their hands are wearing gloves.

I died a day an hour ago
when time was bloomed in flower
when all the Floons, the fertile Floons
lived empty dreams in power

Screw the Floons,
The nasty Floons,
their worlds are ash and dust.
They can't
they won't
they never should
amount amount
to much.

Why, then, you ask,
(and me, I'll answer gladly),
waste your time
On Floons of thine
when import needs you badly?

Why sit and write
thee in thy bar
when clearly known
as by your own
You know not what Floons are?

Good thing you queried,
friend o' mine
and glad do I reply,
the Floons are those who
have no souls
and poxes on their eyes!

Dangerous Dreams for a Dangerous World

A few daring predictions:

Kerry will win the election. The "October Surprise" is the weapons stock that the Bush war machine failed to secure. Kerry will talk this up more in the last days as things get exciting.

The Red Sox win the World Series. Chalk the curse up as yet another piece of obscure baseball trivia. Reverse the Curse t-shirts, yet another piece of baseball ephemera worth lots of money to somebody who isn't me.

Somebody famous will die soon.

I'll go to Michigan in mid-November. Come back with a refreshed sense of my place in the world and the history we are making together. A few new books under my belt. Some good ideas.

Speaking of which, Elaine and Mark will come back renewed and excited and hungover from CTIA, but they won't talk about it much.

I'll get my shit together.

Flickturs

Here's some new pictures from a walk around Belltown. Most of these are close-ups of graffiti on the side of the burned out hulk that used to be the Speakeasy cafe. I think this link will work...

Angry and Hurt

I'm a crappy artist and the girl I like isn't returning my calls. This is as bad as it gets. Anyway, here's the progress on my latest overworked atrocity.

View this photo

Disruptive Pattern Material

A drool-worthy site selling a book full of research on camouflage. And these supercool figurines:

I think they also stand upright.

From the about page:

DPM (Disruptive Pattern Material). DPM is an encyclopaedic art book that charts the history of camouflage from its roots in nature, through to its adoption by the military, and on to its current popularity and use within modern civilian culture. Divided into two books totalling 944 pages, no other title offers such comprehensive coverage of this multi-faceted and highly engaging subject.

Hap

Robin Williams had a joke: He named his penis "Hap". Hap Penis. Get it?

I'm done now.