Monday, January 11, 2016

The Little Black Dress


The Dragon's Daughters



Innocent to Disturbing Art



            Even though I’m home and sick, I’m supposed to be working on other things rather than a blog post. But, I just swallowed my daily dose of pills. I’ll sleep them off soon, then swallow the nasty liquid stuff that tastes like wormy apples and an iron supplement gone wrong.
            I mentioned on Twitter that we are donating a rare book to a sectarian archive. We’re waiting on a second email from them, because we offered them a related and equally scarce Bible. If they want it, we’ll ship them both at the same time. I hope this loosens their tight, secretive grip on some archival material.
            I had coffee with one of my sisters and my artist-illustrator friend. Friend Artist introduced me to the work of a Japanese artist. He calls himself a cartoonist. He straddles the line between fine art and Japanese anime. I’ve put two (I think it’s two) of his pictures on this blog back in the when. His work is lovely, and often disturbing. He paints children as sweet innocents and as sexual objects.
            The innocent, lovely pictures would honor any wall they graced. The other pictures, usually equally well done, are medieval and disturbing to the soul. Some of his work is dark without being pornographic. An example is a darkly violent presentation of Alice.
            Herewith are some of his paintings. Your opinions?







Monday, January 04, 2016

Harry Drumming Up Blog Traffic

Stuff That Came Out Of My Head

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

— The Walrus and The Carpenter by Lewis Carroll

My son noticed that the toilet in the downstairs bathroom was running the other day. He decided to see if reducing the water pressure would help by closing the water supply valve a little. It didn’t work and the valve began to leak. You’d think that a house that is less than 50 years old wouldn’t have these problems, but in the past month we have replaced the plumbing under the sinks in two bathrooms already. So cut to the chase, five trips to the hardware store later we were unable to obtain a new valve that will fit on the end of the pipe. The plumber will be here in the morning.

So that was yesterday. There were snow flurries this morning, but alas I slept through that. My son was happy though. It is his birthday and he was as giddy as he was twenty-odd years ago when he prayed for snow in April and got it. At the time we were suspicious that he had a direct line to God.

I’ve been thinking of ways to get more people to read Rachael’s blog. Then I realized that she already had a way to increase the number of visitors. All I need to do is use some key words in a paragraph that are being searched on the Internet. So if I write something ( Donald Trump) that is totally senseless (furry toe fetish) or completely (naked goat sex) out of context, I just (Oregon Militia) might generate (blonde chicks with guns) more traffic (Islamic gay porn) on the site. Well it’s a thought.

From O. Reader



All things national...

As R knows, while respecting local identity and culture, I don’t do national anthems. However, there has been a lot of recent interest in rugby this side of the pond. And - for a day or so, England was out of the World Cup and Wales was still in! So someone sent me a phonetic version of the Welsh National Anthem. It was reportedly used by supporters who - shame, shame - don’t actually know a word of Welsh. It was written by a Welsh poet from Swansea with a good sense of humor - and this is the slightly cleaned up version.

My hen laid a haddock, one hand oiled a flea,
Glad barks and centurions threw dogs in the sea,
My guru asked Elvis and brandish Dan’s flan,
Don’s muddy bog’s blocked up with sand.

Dad! Dad! Why don’t you oil Auntie Glad?
Can oars appear on beer bottle pies?
O butter the hens as they fly.

Devotees of British “culture” and gaffs will remember how not knowing the actual Welsh words harmed the career of a British politician, John Redwood, many moons ago. Appointed as Secretary of State of Wales, he attended some function when they played the national anthem, about which he was obviously clueless, and he desperately tried to mouth along, hoping that no-one would notice. Alas for him, the cameras focussed right up to his mouth and stayed there, and it was a delight on national news for several days.

Yup - my hen laid a haddock indeed.