A CONVERSATION

Lotus: Hey, you know that weird fat Asian guy who goes through the dumpsters looking for tin cans?

Palinode: Did you say 'that weird fat Asian guy who goes through the dumpsters looking for tin cans'?

Lotus: Yes.

Palinode: That's a strange thing to ask me.

Lotus: Yeah, well his boobs are really uneven.

That's all for today. Too busy. Swamped with work. If I worked in a swamp, I'd be able to say that even on the most laid-back days. Or if I worked in a bog, I'd be perpetually bogged down, no matter how light my schedule might be. I'd definitely be mired if I took a job at the local mire. And if I worked at the weir, then I suppose I'd be weird.

THINGS I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THAT COULD BE WORKED INTO A COHERENT ENTRY IF WORK WEREN'T DEMANDING MY LOYALTY TODAY

1. I went to see The Italian Job on Tuesday afternoon and the theatre was full of obese people stuffing their faces full of popcorn, soda, hot dogs, poutine, whatever (I had poutine). We looked like animals being fattened for the gourmet market.


2. I also went to see Charlie's Angels, which wasn't really a movie. It was more of a bright flickering colour and a constant crunching noise. And Demi Moore's increasingly parchment-like face.


3. If the Klondike Bar is, as the jingle says, "Big and thick/No room for a stick," then we've fundamentally misunderstood the concept of space. Or the materials that go into a Klondike Bar have a density so exuberant that all the stick molecules end up being forced out, kind of like cornstarch and water.


4. I'd like to discuss the relationship between aesthetics and the sublime. But please don't let it get back to them.


5. I was looking at old microfilm copies of the New York Times for information on a disaster (don't ask, it's my job) that occurred on June 9, 1972. On the front page of the Times I found that famous picture of Kim Phuc running down the road, naked and crying and burned by napalm. It took up the lower left 1/8th of the page.


6. I also found a headline from 1935 that read "Poison Rum Still Explodes, 12 Dead". All that effort put into poisoning the rum, and it still explodes, damnit.

parode - exode