I have recently started reading this this snooty art mag that comes out of Brooklyn, where most of the arrogant art scene lives these days. They're tucked in right above the neighborhood natives and family owned bakeries. The magazine is pretty exclusive but it also has just the right amount of strange bullshit in it to make me think that at least one person there is freaky enough and worth paying attention to. Way too many of us (ah, that would be artists) are so fucking eager to sell out that hardly anyone knows what it means to take a true creative risk that doesn't involve Flash, Photoshopping or an extremely over-designed layout. This magazine seems to be more of an equal collaborative effort. Anyway, I was on the subway home from work reading an article on Shit by Rob DeSalle. Specifically fossilized dino shit from the Jurassic period. While the whole article was absolutely fascinating, one sentence, in particular, stuck in my head.
"The largest fossil from this "defecation event" is about five feet long and two feet wide, and is tapered at both ends, a typical marker of a well-preserved coprolite."
See, the thing is I am about five feet long and two feet wide, and well, yes I suppose I could be described as "tapered at both ends". Made me think wow I am as big as dino shit. Awesome. I stopped reading, looked around the semi-crowded R-Train to Brooklyn, and smiled. It was fun and funny.
Obviously, I am not ready to be back from my big fat lesbian vacation. Hell no and I probably shouldn't even be in public. And my-oh-my what have I came back to? Oi, I cannot even begin to go into it. I love my new apartment, though. Love it, love it. Boxes are everywhere and in what is a complete first for me after three weeks I finally unpacked the stereo. Jasmine and I built the unit from Crate&Barrel and now the stereo is out in the daylight. Hello, neighbor!
The RNC protests start Sunday and this city is clamping down. ("Working for the clampdown But ha! Gitalong! Gitalong!") I saw a 70lbs overweight NYC cop standing on a crowded street corner, with a semi-automatic machine gun wrapped around his torso. He was picking shit out of his teeth with what I would like to think was a toothpick and watching the NYU girls walk down the street with their short skirts, flip-flops and surgically implanted cell phones. Then Jasmine told me that a rent-a-cop searched her purse the other day before he would let her INTO the Newport/Pavonia Mall. It is a fucking mall in NJ people. Let her blow it up.
But the real freak show has already started. The Village is starting to look, even more, eclectic would be the word I suppose, than usual. "They say" that over 200,000 protesters are coming here to scream at all of us. Deep down and walking around one can't easily tell who is a Democrat and who is a Republican so they are just going to scream at everyone. Great. Sunday, after moving Jasmine into her dorm room at 9 am in the morning, Martha and I will be driving back to New Jersey with an "Anybody but Bush" bumper sticker on our asses. Our own little silent scream on I-80.