Wednesday, July 25, 2007

!!

This is cornstarch and water

I watched it and looked very much like a codfish.


Tuesday, July 24, 2007

A Scandal in Bohemia

I have crossed the mountains and left behind the disheveled women, chaise lounges and shindigs under the midsummer sky. The exchange seems a shoddy one (all I've gotten in return is dawnlight and cramped fingers but one must take one's pleasures when and where they're offered I suppose).

Returning from Bohemia is rather like time travel. It starts out with a walk around the block and then suddenly you've entered a gaslit street populated by strumming guitars, All-Stars and mango gelato. But this is a place that only exists in moderist novels (things about things about things) and the dreams of epic poets (read: lotus eaters) and soon enough you've returned to the ordinary detritus of retro-spandex and all other un-romantic things.

And what is it about those bohemians anyway? Perhaps we envy the ease of their transgressions, the sleek way that they outrage by simply slipping into a room or running roughshod armed with silk parasols and grease paint. And I know we all wish (or at least I do) that rebellion could be still be contained within a pair of exceptionally well-tailored trousers. I've been asking myself these questions forever it seems but --- practicing professional indolence on the sidelines--- I always seem to forget to answer through the haze of Madeira and cigar smoke.

On the airplane our attendatrix/trice/something is talking overly fast: "pleaseturnoffallelectronicdevicesbeforelanding" and I briefly consider my brain as a piece of electomagnetic machinery and wonder how it would look-- grey and sticky most likely-- if I placed it carefully under the seat in front of me. Probably then I'd loose all sense of propriety, scandalously place my seat back into some fully recumbent position and wait expectantly for the landing.