REPORT FROM A BORING MAN

June 19, 2013
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Each morning, after I reaffirm my existence, I prepare and consume a light breakfast. This activity is followed by a brief stroll to the hammock in the yard. There I render myself recumbent for not more than ten minutes. The ten minutes having elapsed, I venture forth into the outer world, where I sidle as much as possible to maintain an unobserved existence. When exhaustion sets in after three or four hours, I lunch furtively in a secret place. I then proceed to a niche in the wall of the library, where I spend the rest of the day. When night falls, I am found back in my bed ready to sleep, awaken, and face a new day, all hinging, of course, on whether or not my existence is reaffirmed.

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GONDOLA AND REST STOP

June 18, 2013

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Gondola with dog rest stop featured in the foreground.

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NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE

June 17, 2013
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This is NOT what it looks like up here today. I repeat. This is NOT what it looks like up here today. You may safely return to your homes or cardboard boxes under bridges, if that happens to be where you live. Up here today, this is NOT it. Keep your antennae aimed at Jupiter for further information when it becomes available. That is all. Except, Hi, Mom. Give my best to Gladys. That is really all. Terminate transmission.

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THE BLOOMSDAY TOAST

June 16, 2013

james joyce

Every year I insert one new line into my Bloomsday Toast:

Here’s to –

Nora the barnacle goose –

Skin-the-Goat –

the giggle fit of bronze by gold –

the blind stripling piano tuner tap tap tapping along –

the dog’s rag of wolf’s tongue redpanting from his jaws-

Stephen deep in thought strolling on Sandymount Strand –

socks with skyblue clocks, jaunty –

Plumtree’s Potted Meats, which can make of each home an abode of bliss –

Rose of Castille and rows of cast steel –

met him pike hoses –

Come forth, Lazarus!  And he came fifth and lost the job –

On his wise shoulders through the checkerwork of leaves the sun flung spangles, dancing coins –

Private Carr and his escalating oath –

lame Gerty limping, a dreamer –

those lovely seaside girls –

the heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit –

Could a swim duck? Says I –

yes

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BANAL INTERVIEWS WITH CELEBRITY GHOSTS – R. L. STEVENSON

June 15, 2013

Loon: We’re bringing you this special Saturday edition of the 3 question interview because there’s something happening here tomorrow about a flower show or blooms or something. Anyway, our celebrity ghost is none other than Robert Louis Stevenson, author of Treasure Island. Welcome, Mr. Stevenson, and I want to begin by asking you if John Silver’s wooden leg was made of tin. Was John Silver’s wooden leg made of tin?

R. L. Stevenson’s ghost: No. If the leg was anything at all, it was wooden.

Loon: And along those same lines, were Ben Gunn’s clothes made of tin?

R. L. Stevenson’s ghost: Ben Gunn was clad in rags. Cloth rags. Not tin.

Loon: In your heart of hearts, don’t you have a special affection for tin?

R. L. Stevenson’s ghost: Tin can be nice.

Loon: Thank you, Robert Louis Stevenson, author of Treasure Island.

(Stevenson’s ghost ponders going all Hyde on the Loon, but thinks better of it and merely wisps away.)

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THE JOHANNA SPYRI KWIZ ANSWER

June 14, 2013

To battle writer’s block, she relaxed with a cup of tea and goat’s milk. The other answers are just silly.

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THE JOHANNA SPYRI KWIZ

June 13, 2013

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Spyri, who wrote the children’s classic, ‘Heidi’, dealt with writer’s block by:

a. charging up the Matterhorn barefoot.

b. tossing heavy boulders into a ravine.

c. flinging herself about while crying, ‘Why? Why? Why?’

d. marching around the town square counting backwards from 10,000.

e. enjoying a cup of tea with just a drop of goat’s milk added.

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SUMMER CAMP

June 12, 2013
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Freshly scrubbed. bright and eager, the poppy children arrive for the first day of camp.

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MORE NOIR TITLE SUGGESTIONS

June 11, 2013
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Be Deadly, My Heart

Long Night On A Train To Misery

My Dagger Plays For Keeps

No Holidays For The Ice Pick

I Loath You, My Love

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ANGLES AND THE ORANGE

June 10, 2013
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