Well, what a surprise this morning, as I wash down stale coffee cake with industrial strength caffeine.
Thanks Ash.
Most of the characters in this grim little book speak for themselves and Mr. Holt, who is by far the sharpest tool in the great online big-box, astutely took note of several key points in his fine intro. He asserts, correctly, that there is not one scintilla of idealization in my artistic DNA. He seems to think I was born with defect and he's right. He then notes that I declined to put great philosophical verities into the accounts of sad social throw-aways. Equally correct. None of these people are Diogenes. It stinks real bad under a bridge since there's no bathroom. That's about as insightful they it get, or need to get. I let my 70 odd frames of graphic art say most of what needs to be said.
Late empire, feel-good America has no stomach for this kind of book. It's already rocketing to the bottom of America's worst-seller list, but when "I'll Have What She's having" and "Super-Italian" is at the top, I may live with honor in America's other the vast, endless tent city - 21st century indie publishing.
I had to google those top-ranking titles. I'm going to assume that of the 30 or so books with the title "I'll Have What She's Having," the top-ranker in question is the one by Chelsea Handler:
"Chelsea knows what it is to truly show up for her family—canine and human, biological and chosen. She’s discovered how to spend time with herself, how to meditate, how to be open to love, and how to end a relationship with dignity. She is a sister to the many women who rely on her."
Meanwhile, having boned up on this celebrity creature called Giada De Laurentiis (whom I assume is a member of the De Laurentiis motion picture crime family), I ran across this informative video:
Well, what a surprise this morning, as I wash down stale coffee cake with industrial strength caffeine.
Thanks Ash.
Most of the characters in this grim little book speak for themselves and Mr. Holt, who is by far the sharpest tool in the great online big-box, astutely took note of several key points in his fine intro. He asserts, correctly, that there is not one scintilla of idealization in my artistic DNA. He seems to think I was born with defect and he's right. He then notes that I declined to put great philosophical verities into the accounts of sad social throw-aways. Equally correct. None of these people are Diogenes. It stinks real bad under a bridge since there's no bathroom. That's about as insightful they it get, or need to get. I let my 70 odd frames of graphic art say most of what needs to be said.
Late empire, feel-good America has no stomach for this kind of book. It's already rocketing to the bottom of America's worst-seller list, but when "I'll Have What She's having" and "Super-Italian" is at the top, I may live with honor in America's other the vast, endless tent city - 21st century indie publishing.
JDA
I had to google those top-ranking titles. I'm going to assume that of the 30 or so books with the title "I'll Have What She's Having," the top-ranker in question is the one by Chelsea Handler:
"Chelsea knows what it is to truly show up for her family—canine and human, biological and chosen. She’s discovered how to spend time with herself, how to meditate, how to be open to love, and how to end a relationship with dignity. She is a sister to the many women who rely on her."
Meanwhile, having boned up on this celebrity creature called Giada De Laurentiis (whom I assume is a member of the De Laurentiis motion picture crime family), I ran across this informative video:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FJdPF3RJ7Uw
And now, for some reason, I keep visualizing heads on pikes with gleaming, white teeth.
Ahhhh, genius will out.
If only I were more open to love.... And to my canine family. JDA
I have opened myself to my canine family. In this rural neighborhood that amounts to a dozen or so mutts and coyotes.
They acknowledged the love by peeing on the sofa and eating my cat....JDA