Wednesday, April 09, 2014

Wednesday, April 02, 2014

Where Is That Missing Plane?

That missing Malaysian 777 is still missing. I must admit, what came to my mind soon after it was reported missing, was the similarities with the fictional comic book adventure, Flight 714, one of the series of escapades with Tintin, Snowy, Captain Haddock, Professor Calculus et al.

Of all Tintin's adventures, this one is the most eery, most modern, and least satisfactory, because the central mystery -- have aliens been visiting the Earth for thousands of years? -- is left unresolved. 

Flight 714 begins as a normal flight in a similarly tropical part of the world as Malaysian Airlines flight 370, but things go awry as the crew have been bribed to kidnap the passengers and fly them to a remote island... Above, the moment when the aircraft diverts course. 

I said 'modern' because where previous Tintin adventures are clearly dated to the early- to mid-20th century by the styling and appearance of aircraft and automobiles, the missing airplane in Flight 714 has swing-wing capabilities, can fly at supersonic speeds, and is comparable to contemporary private jets in the sophistication of its design...

Sunday, March 09, 2014

Q: What's Wrong With This Story?

Answer: EVeRyThiNg!!!

Saturday, March 08, 2014

Sunday, March 02, 2014

Agh! Bama!

If you're going to fulminate against your political masters, spelling their names correctly helps your case. 

Sunday, February 23, 2014

'All He Needed Was a White Cat to Stroke'


 What a strange and fascinating read was Scottish writer Andrew O'Hagan's exceedingly long story in the current London Review of Books, of how he became ghost writer for Wikileaks founder and all-round creepy weirdo, Julian Assange. Obviously he takes an ax to Assange, but O'Hagan does it well, and with a thousand cuts, none of which miss.

It is, in a sense, a relief to find out that Assange is not the international man of mystery he seems to have accident-ed into, in 2010, but instead, a twat. Yes, a tedious, total twat:
The three of us went to a very pink café in the town and ordered sandwiches and cakes. We sat outside, and Julian got distracted by some young girls walking past. ‘Hold on,’ he said, and turned his gaze. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It was fine until I saw the teeth.’ One of the girls was wearing a brace. When Sarah came back and asked what we were talking about, Julian said he’d been admiring some 14-year-old girls, ‘until they came close’. I record this not to show how predatory Julian is – I don’t believe he is any more predatory than hundreds of men I’ve known. It’s not that: I tell it to suggest how self-delighted he can be. He doesn’t at all see how often his self-delight leads him into trouble. He doesn’t understand other people in the slightest and it would be hard to think of a leader who so reliably got everyone wrong, mistaking people’s motivations, their needs, their values, their gifts, their loyalty, and thereby destroys their usefulness to him. He was always very solicitous of me when I was with him, but I could tell he responded much more to the fact that I like a joke than to the notion that I was a professional writer. The latter mattered to him for five seconds when he was trying to find a writer to work with, but it was the time-wasting, authority-baiting side that really kept our relationship alive. He thought I was his creature and he forgot what a writer is, someone with a tendency to write things down and perhaps seek the truth and aim for transparency.

Sunday, February 09, 2014


I was waiting on a friend the other day, and I sent him a text, then two texts, then a third text. Still no response. And I could see the Dunkin Donuts he was sitting in! Yet clearly he was oblivious to my messages.

Impatiently, I called his cell number, finally resorting to the main purpose for which those ubiquitous devices in our hands were invented — phone calls — and yet which always seems to be the last option we choose to use. That got his attention. 

Some time later, he texted me. In reference to the three text messages I had sent to him, he wrote: I was not paying attention to my phone

I started to write back: I know

Then I turned it a touch more specific (or so I am congratulating myself now!):

I knowticed

Let me be the first to congratulate me in coining a new word, definition pending, but something like this:

to knowtice (verb): to be aware of something in advance of others comprehending it. 

Sunday, January 19, 2014

(L)earn or Take

I thought it was: Learn law. Take umbrage. 

Tuesday, January 07, 2014

Has She No Minodesty?

Hey, who's that guy with the pink wig???!


Monday, January 06, 2014

Weather it's 50 or 40?

 At 1AM… today… is it 40 F?….

…or 50 F??

It's the End Again!

I was down on Hudson Street the other

day, and so I took the time to walk to one of my favorite

stores, the oddly-named high-end ornamental glass store,...

…which is called The End of History...

…their window displays are always gorgeous...

Saturday, January 04, 2014

New Year's Day: Steinway Street, Astoria, Queens, NY

Someone had left LabCorp an interesting sample on New Year's Day...

Friday, January 03, 2014

Was für eine schöne Farbe!*

Bleecker Street, West Village.

Beverley Road near Flatbush Avenue, Brooklyn.

Was für eine schöne Farbe! is German for 'What a lovely color!'

Thursday, January 02, 2014

I Think About This Sort of Process Often

An artist called Drew Dernavich drew this cartoon, above, and had it rejected by The New Yorker in 2007. Then some years rolled by...

...and he thought about it, and refined it, decided to resubmit it...and this time it was accepted.

Friday, December 27, 2013

More Harris Shutter

That strange little photo app on my phone, Harris Shutter, continues to perplex me. I'm trying to find an ideal light/dark situation in which I can use it to maximum effect. A Christmas window (above), transformed (below).