This image of a poster

I would want this poster more sans JOHN WAYNE and w/o the title in Polish, just the abstract John Wayne face.
Either way this image caused my myspace to go crazy on me today. Made my myspace think someone had stolen my info. Screw this image. Now I'm not going to buy the cheap polish western posters book. Screw it.

Arab in a Cowboy Hat

Someone in a class wrote an action/thriller oriented start to a screenplay, and the primary terrorist antagonist was described as, "Arab." A few people thought that maybe he could go in a more original direction with this antagonist, I suggested an American in a cowboy hat, and then an Arab in a cowboy hat. There are no pictures of Arabs in cowboy hats. If you search for Arab in cowboy hat, pictures of presidents pop up.

I hope, if I ever meet Bush, we're both wearing big black cowboy hats. Then we can go lean on the fence somewhere on the farm, and stare out at the fields or the sunset. Maybe we don't even speak to each other the whole time. Just peace, calm, barley, wheat. Maybe he spits and makes me feel uncomfortable. Or I spit also and he takes offense.

If I were to be mugged

That's not a real Garbage Pail Kid is it?

If I realized I was about to be mugged, and I have never been mugged, knock on wood... here's my plan, especially if I have serious valuables on me, like my computer etc...:

1. Drop some money on the floor
2. Run like mad.
3. This way the mugger will have to choose between the sure money and the chase/bigger prizes/rape.
4. At the very least, picking up the money will slow the mugger down.

Softball

Top photo from NY Times. Bill & Hillary.

Went to Moma. Middle photo, I actually saw, and enjoyed. Bottom photo by a photographer, whose name escapes me, who had photos in their collection, but not that one. I looked him up earlier today when I could remember his name and found out that he took his first picture of a dead body when he was something like 12.

The Jeff Wall pictures are worth seeing, but the show as a whole left me with a bad taste. Elaborately staged pictures automatically are fighting uphill with me.

Then today, I played the softball. That's a nickname of mine, "Softball." I pitched and gave up 14 runs. I wasn't as terrible as that sounds. We were losing 14-0, completely outclassed, but having a fun time. The bases were loaded, two outs, and they needed one more run for the mercy rule to end the game. The overhead lights went out as their slugger made his way to the plate.

First Lady Portraits

Truman's wife, Elizabeth "Bess" Virginia Wallace Truman. Hands down the most manly in the post black & white era of portraits. Look at her head.



Nancy Davis Reagan & Grace Anna Goodhue Coolidge wore similar dresses. Coolidge is the more appealing broad with those stark black curlsl, and because she poses so openly, coupled with her outdoorsiness, and her beautiful dog. Reagan's hiding something.

Late Night Inspiration

Embarassing LA moments

#1

I was desperate for something other than exercise or free weights that could serve as some kind of , "zen activity." Something to curb my depression, and help me enjoy the beauty of the outdoors a little more, or make me go outside a bit more often. I think I had also scene that Dogtown documentary. Or I had scene the energetic previews for the fictionalized version of the Dogtown documentary with the kid from the Girl Next Door. And they sell the art of skateboarding very well in the Dogtown pictures. On a very hot day, I took a step off the cliff, and went to Supreme on Fairfax. I figured maybe I would buy a board, maybe a I wouldn't. At the very least I get to see the big wooden bowl they built inside the store that I had seen pictures of and been attracted to.
But I did it. I bought a skateboard; a cool looking one with an image of a random stereotypical Native American that I later realized was Johnny Cash. The board cost a lot of money with all the add ons like wheels and trucks, and grip tape. I left the store with the same feeling I had after I bought guitar hero. A mix of shame and excitement and fear that someone would catch me.

For about a week I rode that expensive skateboard that I had no right to buy up and down my block on London Street. Sometimes I would ride the board to the gas station where I bought cigars and groceries. I would never ride it when I crossed the street. And once per ride, I would fall flat on my face, and nearly break something, most likely a wrist. Never felt much zen during the time I attempted skateboarding as a so-called zen activity. I did feel embarassed, and old. And I wondered where the safe, smooth surfaces were in Los Angeles.

The skateboard now lives in my Aunt & Uncle's garage. I need to sell it, badly.

Recently, I will admit that I took up meditation. Slightly before the Lynch book came out.