Guns and God

It's hard to ignore the fact anymore that God likes guns. It doesn't really matter which God either. Allah seems just as taken as the big white guy in the sky. But since most of the God people in rural America (those in the soul of Sarah Palin, or Thomas Frank) call themselves Christians, I started thinking about what kind of guns Christ would use. I don't take him for a big caliber guy (thin wrists) which rules out a .357 or 44 magnum. And certainly not a Sharps .50 caliber buffalo rifle...too much like a cross. But he's not a whimpy .22 guy either. No, I peg Christ as a 9 mm Walther man. A stylish gun that packs the punch needed, but isn't over the top. A gun with grace, so to speak. I can see him in his robes, popping bad guys, a couple of clips tucked in his belt. I'm sure the action figure is not far behind.

Art Everyday

Grout

In the 2nd floor men's lavatory of the library there is an "project" to write in the grout between the wall tiles. This has become known as the "Grout Board."

I'll toss some of these out when I have nothing more relevant to say.

The Great Groutsby

When in Grout, don't doubt it

In and Grout

It's a Grout Day

Borneman's Blog

If you want to see a small city in Montana filtered through the eyes of a truly wonderful artist and human being, check out Borneman's blog (http://billborneman.blogspot.com/)

It's a silver day in the old Ham, and the chlorophyll is beginning to fade away.
Onward into Autumn...

Out of Touch, Out of Mind

I've been in Alaska for the past two weeks, so apologize to my 2 readers (you know who you are!) that nothing's happened. Did repeat a trip to Denali with my dad that we had done in the 80's. Can't believe how much Alaska has changed, but it's still a wild and crazy place. Photos on Flickr.com (search: piper denali) if interested.

I'll try to get something book or art related going soon. Best book lately read however is the Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. First writer from the Dominican Republic I've ever read.

More to follow...

Sonny Sharrock

Sonny Sharrock came to mind yesterday while discussing Ben Monder. I first saw Sharrock at Ravinia Park north of Chicago in the late 60's, early 70's. He was playing with Herbie Mann, and adding a chaotic, thunderous dimension to Mann's flute. I remember several things distinctly -- I have never seen a guitar appear so dwarfed in anyone's hands (later in life when I saw Izzy Kamakawiwo'ole play ukulele this feat was topped), and it was the first time I'd heard anyone produce pure noise on an instrument. Looking around youtube, I found a couple of clips that characterize a couple of this fabulous guitarist's moods. Enjoy.






Thanks to Pedro Mendes for collecting and sharing these.

Walk Score

A new Web tool called Walk Score will tell you how "walkable" your home location is. Walk Score does this by "calculating the walkability of an address by locating nearby stores, restaurants, schools, parks, etc. Walk Score measures how easy it is to live a car-lite lifestyle—not how pretty the area is for walking."

Your Walk Score is a number between 0 and 100. Here are general guidelines for interpreting your score:

• 90 - 100 = Walkers' Paradise: Most errands can be accomplished on foot and many people get by without owning a car.
• 70 - 90 = Very Walkable: It's possible to get by without owning a car.
• 50 - 70 = Some Walkable Locations: Some stores and amenities are within walking distance, but many everyday trips still require a bike, public transportation, or car.
• 25 - 50 = Not Walkable: Only a few destinations are within easy walking range. For most errands, driving or public transportation is a must.
• 0 - 25 = Driving Only: Virtually no neighborhood destinations within walking range. You can walk from your house to your car!

My walk score, out in the county, was 15, which essentially means I have to drive just about anywhere. Which is correct, unless I want to walk 1 1/2 miles to the store, or bike steep hills.

The Best Things in Life Are Free

I used to think of this in more idealistic terms, now I just think the best things in life are stolen, however as a librarian, I usually give credit. This language interpreting device is stolen from Rob Lopresti (http://criminalbrief.com/?p=991) who failed to notice it under my green loden overcoat. It is called Wordle, and to show what it can do, I'm volunteering the very words of this bitty blog post as sacrificial lambs. If I were a real artist I could undoubtedly sell this for enough to retire, and if I were a real writer, I'd obviously be writing something more profound. This work is entitled "Rob Lopresti's Cat."

They Used to Hang Outlaws

Italian artist Maurizio Cattelan: La Ballata di Trotsky, Museum of Modern Art in Castello di Rivoli, Turin, 1997.

One can guess the title within a reasonable degree of accuracy, even if one doesn't read Italian. Questions remain however: Is this art? Is this good art? And why would anyone hang a stuffed horse in a room in the first place, art or not? Cattelan has admitted to his desire to push the limits of tolerance, but a well-hung stuffed race horse hardly does it. In today's world its effects range from boring to stupid, hardly shocking. If you want to be shocked, visit Bodies - The Exhibition, watch TV news, or examine the effects of aging on the skin of a copiously tattooed biker.

Movements of the past -- surrealism, dadaism, were shocking because the images, forms, actions, texts, etc. were new. This is not new, it's tedious, regardless of how elaborate a theoretical underpinning Cattelan constructs.

And furthermore it lacks dignity -- the dignity of life (which Cia Guo Qiang was able to give to his wolves); the dignity of death; and the dignity of vengeance - unless it happens to fall on the artist.