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Weak XLII

15 October 2025

No. 2,349 (cartoon)

Why did you tell my mother that I was fit to sleep with a pig?

Because she said you weren’t.

You should know.

16 October 2025

Beyond Every Cliché in the Book

It was a dark and stormy night when Alexia accused me of using every cliché in the book. I protested mightily, oh yes I did.

First of all, there are a few clichés in said volume that I haven’t got around to milking. Yet. In addition, I’ve also nicked and printed a few unpublished clichés as well.

I’m living happily ever after, so there.

The end.

17 October 2025

Photography at the Speed of Light and Anal Vision

It’s been years since Nikon came out with a better camera than the company offered in the past, and the latest Leica no longer has an optical viewfinder for the first time in over a century (a few trivial footnotes notwithstanding).

Feh.

But fear not, camera fetishists, for I’m here to report on two new cameras that are probably unlike any of your shelf queens.

AlphaPhoenix has developed a camera that records at the speed of light, two billion frames a second. When reporting on such speedy cameras in the past, I’ve translated that into the equivalent length of thirty-five-millimeter film, but not today. All them zeroes make my teeth hurt.

I’ve never heard of a camera that purports to photograph with your mind’s eye. But now, thanks(s?) to Kohler, we have the Dekoda toilet camera. Yep, mounts inside your toilet bowl if you want to explore your anal eye.

I might like to play with the AlphaPhoenix camera; I can think of a few projects that might be interesting. I’m agonna pass on the Dekoda; I have at least a dozen cameras I can use to make shitty photographs.

18 October 2025

Hitting It Out of the Park

Shohei Ohtani hit the baseball out of Dodger Stadium last night. After lunch at my studio this afternoon, Hubert proclaimed that I “hit it out of the park” with my chili and black beans sludge. That’s not a non sequiter (does that make it a sequiter?); I shall now connect the dots.

You see, or perhaps you saw, that when Ohtani-san clobbered the ball, he hit it out of the park. I am thusly annoyed, as a wannabe pedant, that unless someone literally “hit it out of the park,” s/he should come up with a better banality.

I’m glad that I’m not on Ohtani-san’s team; he’d make me and everyone else look bad. That’s why I don’t have a team. Working alone, I’m the star: a legend in my own mind.

19 October 2025

I’m a Hodenkobold, Not an Intelligenzallergiker

English is a shitty fucking language when it comes to swearing. Why, I do believe I just used most of the dirty words except for the references to parts of the body and/or sexism. The German language, rich in compound words, has many more options, including hodenkobold (someone who is annoying, literally “testicle goblin”) and intelligenzallergiker (someone who is allergic to intelligence). Italians have the most blasphemous phrases.

And that’s about all I gleaned from a shitty fucking study of swearing in different countries around the world. Oh well, at least I can casually drop “hodenkobold” into exchanges with my German friends to prove I’m not an intelligenzallergiker.

20 October 2025

Made You Look

I spotted yesterday’s print edition of The New York Times spread across Lydia’s covers when I wandered into her bedroom. The typography that made me look was “MADE YOU LOOK” in huge, bold letters. All I needed to create Made You Look was to point my camera at the tableau and release the shutter.

Ding dang done!

21 October 2025

Sriracha Cactus

I found an old bottle of Sriracha sauce buried in the back of Toni’s pantry; she guessed that it had been there at least two years. It had devolved from a Kodachrome-red condiment to a brownish muck. That was beyond the pail, even for me, so I decided to put it on a live cactus instead of a dead burrito.

I wish I didn’t need to use the phrase “it seemed like a good idea at the time” so often. I was dissatisfied with the resulting photograph. I’m nevertheless adding it to my notebook as another cautionary tale to remind myself that everything I touch doesn’t turn to aesthetic gold.

Coming next weak: more of the same.

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©2025 David Glenn Rinehart