2002 Notebook: Weak XII
gratuitous image
13 March 2002
No. 2,508 (cartoon)
Is black a color?

Black is the absence of light.

Is black a color?

20 March 2002
Speaking Their Own Brains
I’ve just had an unpleasant visit with the Group of Experts That Dare Not Speak Its Name®. I was informed in no uncertain terms that my work is ... well, let us let the Experts speak their own brains:

    “Tedious and boring ...”
    — Ms. B. K.

    “... lacks connoisseurship.”
    — Ms. D. H.

    “People don’t want art, they want amusement.”
    — Mr. A. G.

And so on.

Dr. M.O. provided the most optimistic response after I described my plans for future endeavors. “Perhaps viewers may find these new projects of more interest than your work to date.”

21 March 2002
Rainier Ale Doesn’t Do Anything
One of my so-called friends declined a proffered drink with perhaps the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard: “Rainier Ale does bad things to you.”

That’s ridiculous!

Rainier Ale is as unambitious as it is wonderful. Rainier Ale may or may not have free will, but it has no ability to serve as an instigator. Be that as it may, never underestimate the power of a catalyst. Even though Rainier Ale does nothing of its own volition, I’m continually amazed at Rainier Ale’s zany antics as a silent coconspirator.

There’s much more to be said about the miracle that is Rainier Ale, and I shall.

Later, perhaps.

22 March 2002
Proverbs 26:11 and Me
I asked Rusty what she thought about my recent work.

“As a rabbinical scholar,” she replied, “I see everything from a biblical perspective.”

“So what does that mean in practice?” I inquired.

“Proverbs 26:11,” Rusty said.

“Translation, please,” I requested.

“As a dog returneth to his vomit,” Rusty intoned, “so a fool returneth to his folly.”

“What in the hell does that mean?” I asked.

“David,” Rusty concluded, “you’re full of yourself.”

23 March 2002
Omne Ignotum Pro Magnifico
I went to see some short “art” films made in Mexico tonight. One film was so-so, a couple were bad, and the rest were absolutely, unremittingly wretched. The evening wasn’t a total waste, however, because I learned something.

The next time I make a bad conceptual art piece, I’m going to use a foreign language. I’m going to use a language so foreign that almost no one will be able to understand it. I may make up a new language just for the occasion.

Anonymous was right when s/he said, “Omne ignotum pro magnifico.” (Everything unknown is assumed to be grand.)

24 March 2002
The Funniest Joke in the World
The world’s funniest joke goes something like this ...

Dr. Watson asks Sherlock Holmes what he thinks about when he looks up at the stars. Holmes replies that he thinks that someone stole his tent.

Personally, I think that’s not even among the thousand funniest jokes I’ve heard. Any joke that involves an animal going into a bar, a priest, a rabbi and a minister, a person with no arms or legs, et cetera, is almost certain to be funnier.

But who could contradict the work of a University of Hertfordshire professor, working in conjunction with the British Association for the Advancement of Science, published in the august journal, Experimental Biology and Medicine?

I think an animal going into a bar, a priest, a rabbi and a minister, and a person with no arms or legs could easily provide the answer.

25 March 2002
The Best Job in the World
I just heard about the best job in the world. Like every other job of which I am aware, it is a position for which I am completely unqualified.

The best job in the world involved having sex with—and impregnating—race horses.

Qualified service providers receive half a million dollars for a single act of sexual intercourse! Although I find the proposition of exchanging sex for money generally reprehensible, I might reconsider my ostensibly moral stance if I was looking at half a million dollars on the table. Or the bed. Or wherever it is that horses copulate.

Sadly, my running days are over. In fact, I never had a single running day. For that reason alone, I’ll probably never see half a million dollars for a day (night?) of work. But I’m not disappointed. I still maintain that being jobless is still preferable than having even the best job in the world.

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©2002 David Glenn Rinehart