I saw this while walking around Gotham trying to burn up the film in my various cameras. There's nothing like a good platitude. What is there to do with a platitude but put it on the side of a building? Big. Platitudes need to be big. The bigger the better. They are especially important if you want to get elected to a public office. Or if you want to be on a network show like "Today" or "Good Morning America."
"All our hopes and prayers. . . ."
Etc.
The other day, I posted two pictures on a large format forum that I made with X-Ray film. They were severely underexposed and were not good photographs. I said so when I posted them to illustrate how to develop film that has an emulsion on both sides. You must be careful not to scratch the side that faces downward, but I had no problem with that. People began to "like" the post. Then some fellow posted that they were not good photos AND that X-Ray film did not have emulsion on both sides.
Well, I said, that is what the manufacturer says as do some well-known large format photographers. He replied that he was a dentist and had used X-Ray film for years, and he went on to explain. I wanted to reply that he was a dentist and that probably was the reason he was so uninformed, but I didn't. Somebody else did, though, in essence. I didn't want to get into an internet fight as there is never any way to get out of it once you are in, so I deferred to his "knowledge" and posted several links to medical articles on double sided X-Ray film, clever boy that I am.
But he was like a dog with a bone. He became more adamant and obtuse, so I Googled him. His FaceBook posts were all conservative republican shit from OAN and Newsmax and other propaganda sources. I wanted to tell him that he was an idiot, but I didn't.
Yesterday he conceded that I was a knowledgeable fellow. See what a little reserve can do?
The offending images.
That is, however, the way life seems to go now. People argue stupid shit. They like to demean. I shouldn't universalize my experiences, though. Maybe I'm just under some dark cosmic cloud. My chakras may be clogged. Maybe I need Reiki to have my auras cleansed. I know people. It is not out of the question.
I'm thinking of investing in a mood ring. Surely there is one on the Goop site.
I get beautified today. I forgot that I told my beautician to be dressed for a picture. I remembered when I woke up this morning, and it made me nervous. I'll fuck it up, surely, and then there will be that between us.
"It's because you had clothes on," I'll tell her. "They ruined it."
She is learning how to read auras. Maybe she got mad at me and put the bad juju on me.
All my poking fun at things, though, may be a defense mechanism, for I want to live the clean and healthy life. My body hurts. My mind is twisted. My soul aches. Waking this morning after a weird night, I was thinking that I would eschew the gym and weights and all the pain that brings to me. For the rest of the week, anyway. Long walks, yoga, herbal teas. . . you know, the hippie life. . . that is what I feel I need. Not the hippie drug life, the other one. Organic, I need to get an herbal glow.
First, I'll need to have my brains sucked out. Then I can get the deep colon cleanse.
I kid. But I have been heading in a bad direction for awhile. I need to re-establish contact with the living world again. I need some life affirmation.
Jesus.
Long walks and canasta, perhaps, and a transistor radio playing old Guy Lombardo tunes. Simplicity.
I was thinking of taking Spanish lessons, but that is a dangerous language, I think. I should study the language of happy people. Polynesian, maybe. Is that a language?
I want to be with all the kanes and wahines that I knew long ago
I can hear old guitars a playing, on the beach at Hoonaunau
I can hear the Hawaiians saying "Komomai no kaua ika hale welakahao"
It won't be long 'til my ship will be sailing back to Kona
A grand old place that's always fair to see
I'm just a little Hawaiian and a homeside Island boy
I want to go back to my fish and poi
I want to go back to my little grass shack in Kealakekua, Hawaii
Where the Humuhumu, Nukunuku a puaa goes swimming by
Where the Humuhumu, Nukunuku a puaa goes swimming by
I want to go back to my little grass shack in Kealakekua, Hawaii
I want to be with all the kanes and wahines that I knew long ago
I can hear old guitars a playing, on the beach at Hoonaunau
I can hear the Hawaiians saying "Komomai no kaua ika hale welakahao"
It won't be long 'til my ship will be sailing back to Kona
A grand old place that's always fair to see
I'm just a little Hawaiian and a homeside Island boy
I want to go back to my fish and poi
I want to go back to my little grass shack in Kealakekua, Hawaii
Where the Humuhumu, Nukunuku a puaa goes swimming by
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