Goodnight Cannibal
I read books with my kid every night. As he looks for books to read, he usually asks, “What book do you want to read?” Whichever one I pick, he says that he doesn’t want to read that one and continues to search in his collection of 1,543 books for the one which is stuck between the bookcase and the wall. Looking for two books to read each night takes longer than actually reading them. Especially if I read the first page and then accidentally skip to the last. Hey, it works with Atlas Shrugged.
One book I like and one that you might remember fondly from your childhood is Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown with pictures by Clement Hurd. Basically it is a story about a rabbit stalling so that he doesn’t have to go to sleep.
The little rabbit in the story says goodnight to all the things in his room as he slowly doses off.
But there is one thing to which he does not say goodnight.
It’s a black and white painting of a rabbit fishing. It’s hanging behind the old woman whispering hush.
It’s cute. The rabbit even has waders on. That’s really cute. And the rabbit has a carrot on the end of his line as bait.
A carrot?
Yes. A carrot. Because if you take a close look, you will see that the fisherrabbit is fishing for BUNNIES!
Look!!!!
What the hell is up with that? That’s cannibalism! Or Rabbitbalism. He’s going to catch him, swoop him up with the net, shove him in his wicker fish (bunny) creel, take him home and eat him. Hopefully he’ll at least cook the cute little bastard.
I could understand it if perhaps the bunny was the runt of the litter and the momma rabbit had to eat it… that is natural. This is cruel and I just don’t get what the hell Clement Hurd was trying to illustrate.
Which is why I’ve taken to pointing it out to my son and telling him that he has two choices in life: either he can be the fisherrabbit or he can be the rabbit in the stream. After he stops crying, I hug him and comfort him with promises of carrots for breakfast.
One book I like and one that you might remember fondly from your childhood is Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown with pictures by Clement Hurd. Basically it is a story about a rabbit stalling so that he doesn’t have to go to sleep.
The little rabbit in the story says goodnight to all the things in his room as he slowly doses off.
But there is one thing to which he does not say goodnight.
It’s a black and white painting of a rabbit fishing. It’s hanging behind the old woman whispering hush.
It’s cute. The rabbit even has waders on. That’s really cute. And the rabbit has a carrot on the end of his line as bait.
A carrot?
Yes. A carrot. Because if you take a close look, you will see that the fisherrabbit is fishing for BUNNIES!
Look!!!!
What the hell is up with that? That’s cannibalism! Or Rabbitbalism. He’s going to catch him, swoop him up with the net, shove him in his wicker fish (bunny) creel, take him home and eat him. Hopefully he’ll at least cook the cute little bastard.
I could understand it if perhaps the bunny was the runt of the litter and the momma rabbit had to eat it… that is natural. This is cruel and I just don’t get what the hell Clement Hurd was trying to illustrate.
Which is why I’ve taken to pointing it out to my son and telling him that he has two choices in life: either he can be the fisherrabbit or he can be the rabbit in the stream. After he stops crying, I hug him and comfort him with promises of carrots for breakfast.
Draw to the right
This is the last Meshell - Shorty - Doug napkin drawing post. I swear. Really!
This was one of the first sketches we did which was to draw the person on your right. I thought it would be interesting to see everyone's perspective from the left side. That's why I drew mine like this:
Of course, I was wrong. Meshell drew Shorty as he looks at others. Other chicks that is.
And Shorty just drew my face. The joke being that my head is too big to fit on a single piece of paper.
Asshole. His head is exactly the same as mine. Too big.
Feel free to e-mail me sketches of yourself. I'll post you along with a 17 word description of who I think you are.holyjuan@gmail.com
This was one of the first sketches we did which was to draw the person on your right. I thought it would be interesting to see everyone's perspective from the left side. That's why I drew mine like this:
Of course, I was wrong. Meshell drew Shorty as he looks at others. Other chicks that is.
And Shorty just drew my face. The joke being that my head is too big to fit on a single piece of paper.
Asshole. His head is exactly the same as mine. Too big.
Feel free to e-mail me sketches of yourself. I'll post you along with a 17 word description of who I think you are.
Buckeyes e-mail from Carpanza
> >From: Carpanza
> >To: Holy Juan
> >Subject: Buckeyes
> >Date: Tue, 9 Jan 2007 11:02:28 -0600
> >What the hell happened?
> From: frankkenstein56@hotmail.com
> To: Carpanza
> Subject: RE: Buckeyes
> Date: Tue, 9 Jan 2007 21:09:46 -0500
>
> COMPLETE SYSTEM FAILURE
> BOOT DISK UNREADABLE
From : Carpanza
Sent : Tuesday, January 9, 2007 11:47 PM
To : Frank Stein
Subject : RE: Buckeyes
Have you tried rebooting?
I figured you were in a drunken stupor trying desperately to make the memories go away. There'll be a lot of crying yourself to sleep and sitting alone bawling in the john at work. You just can't drink enough to make the Buckeye's loss any less painful. You turn to hard drugs. Every time you see a sweater vest you can't stop thinking about what that bad man did to you. You think about changing your name to Kane and walking the earth, like in Kung Fu. You quit caring anymore. Just when you think it couldn't get any worse, you see a Gator... you fall to pieces and it's more painful than ever.
Don't go down that path man! Choose life! Just let this comfort you.... at least you're not a Gopher's fan.
> >To: Holy Juan
> >Subject: Buckeyes
> >Date: Tue, 9 Jan 2007 11:02:28 -0600
> >What the hell happened?
> From: frankkenstein56@hotmail.com
> To: Carpanza
> Subject: RE: Buckeyes
> Date: Tue, 9 Jan 2007 21:09:46 -0500
>
> COMPLETE SYSTEM FAILURE
> BOOT DISK UNREADABLE
From : Carpanza
Sent : Tuesday, January 9, 2007 11:47 PM
To : Frank Stein
Subject : RE: Buckeyes
Have you tried rebooting?
I figured you were in a drunken stupor trying desperately to make the memories go away. There'll be a lot of crying yourself to sleep and sitting alone bawling in the john at work. You just can't drink enough to make the Buckeye's loss any less painful. You turn to hard drugs. Every time you see a sweater vest you can't stop thinking about what that bad man did to you. You think about changing your name to Kane and walking the earth, like in Kung Fu. You quit caring anymore. Just when you think it couldn't get any worse, you see a Gator... you fall to pieces and it's more painful than ever.
Don't go down that path man! Choose life! Just let this comfort you.... at least you're not a Gopher's fan.
Decisions, decisions
I drew the first sketch. Meshell fleshed it out.
I'm not sure what the sketch was supposed to represent. If this was some kind of Sophie's Choice, I'd have to take out the mouse. And then the cat.
I'm not sure what the sketch was supposed to represent. If this was some kind of Sophie's Choice, I'd have to take out the mouse. And then the cat.
Napkin canvases
Last night, Meshell, Shorty and I got together at B Hamptons to get a drink. During one of Shorty’s five trips outside to talk on the phone (i.e. smoke), Meshell and I started doodling on napkins. When Short got back, he joined in.
Most of what we drew is, well, disgusting if not a crime against good taste.
We ended up playing a game where everyone wrote down a noun and a verb ending with “ing” on their napkin. The napkin was passed to the right and the person would have to draw what was written on the napkin. I think I can show you those without embarassing anyone. (I'm not really sure how Meshell and I both chose to use the word "house" as our noun. Drinking ESP.)
House Stealing - by Short
House Killing - by Meshell
Tit Fucking - by Doug
By the end of the night, we had a huge stack of napkins filled with ink and sin. I shoved them all in my jacket pocket with promises of scanning them all when I got home. On my way to work this morning, I wondered for about five minutes why my jacket wasn't fitting right.
Most of what we drew is, well, disgusting if not a crime against good taste.
We ended up playing a game where everyone wrote down a noun and a verb ending with “ing” on their napkin. The napkin was passed to the right and the person would have to draw what was written on the napkin. I think I can show you those without embarassing anyone. (I'm not really sure how Meshell and I both chose to use the word "house" as our noun. Drinking ESP.)
House Stealing - by Short
House Killing - by Meshell
Tit Fucking - by Doug
By the end of the night, we had a huge stack of napkins filled with ink and sin. I shoved them all in my jacket pocket with promises of scanning them all when I got home. On my way to work this morning, I wondered for about five minutes why my jacket wasn't fitting right.
HolyJuan’s 2007 Predictions
I hate people who make vague predictions. You’ll see them popping up over the next couple of days. “A major weather event will strike the East Coast causing death and destruction.” Or bland, technological predictions, “Vista will be as buggy as Windows 95/98/2000/ME/XP. People will still be using XP in 2010 rather then upgrading.”
The theory (mine at least) is to make very specific and outrageous predictions that will happen within a small time frame. Leave a little bit of wriggle room so that if things don’t come out exactly as predicted, you can still point to the parts of your guess that were dead on.
Though I don’t condone the use of it, you might want to throw in a dead ringer prediction that anyone could have guessed. I suggest adding a sprinkling of details that make your dead ringer stand out.
It’s also a good idea to predict things that are not going to happen.
HolyJuan’s 2007 Predictions
1. Harrison Ford will die on location in Java while filming the, now final, Indiana Jones film. The accident will be off set, but he will be in costume.
2. A rogue wave kills over 200 after it strikes a cruise liner this summer. This incident is made more painful when it is revealed the Captain called passengers on the deck to witness the wave as it traveled towards the ship.
3. Bird Flu will not have an effect on the world’s population… this year.
4. Scarlett Johansson will overdose on heroine. It will not kill her, but she will disappear from the public eye for the rest of the year.
5. Britney Spears will get back together with K-Fed over the children.
6. Britney Spears will dump K-Fed twenty days later when he reveals that he has gotten some other tramp knocked up.
7. Congress will introduce a bill requiring that all pornography on the internet will need to be re-located under new .sex website address. The only positive thing that will come out of this failed resolution is a better definition of pornography.
8. A World of Warcraft serial killer will emerge, not online, but in real life. As a Paladin, he will kill off 13 Hoard players. Many victims will not be found for days as they rarely come out of their rooms anyways.
$. The number nine will be struck from the world’s vocabulary and replaced with the dollar sign.
10. I will publish my first book, “The Tales of Allen Knob.” The 10 people that read it will suggest the other 6,525,170,254 people in the world stay as far away as possible from it.
The theory (mine at least) is to make very specific and outrageous predictions that will happen within a small time frame. Leave a little bit of wriggle room so that if things don’t come out exactly as predicted, you can still point to the parts of your guess that were dead on.
Though I don’t condone the use of it, you might want to throw in a dead ringer prediction that anyone could have guessed. I suggest adding a sprinkling of details that make your dead ringer stand out.
It’s also a good idea to predict things that are not going to happen.
HolyJuan’s 2007 Predictions
1. Harrison Ford will die on location in Java while filming the, now final, Indiana Jones film. The accident will be off set, but he will be in costume.
2. A rogue wave kills over 200 after it strikes a cruise liner this summer. This incident is made more painful when it is revealed the Captain called passengers on the deck to witness the wave as it traveled towards the ship.
3. Bird Flu will not have an effect on the world’s population… this year.
4. Scarlett Johansson will overdose on heroine. It will not kill her, but she will disappear from the public eye for the rest of the year.
5. Britney Spears will get back together with K-Fed over the children.
6. Britney Spears will dump K-Fed twenty days later when he reveals that he has gotten some other tramp knocked up.
7. Congress will introduce a bill requiring that all pornography on the internet will need to be re-located under new .sex website address. The only positive thing that will come out of this failed resolution is a better definition of pornography.
8. A World of Warcraft serial killer will emerge, not online, but in real life. As a Paladin, he will kill off 13 Hoard players. Many victims will not be found for days as they rarely come out of their rooms anyways.
$. The number nine will be struck from the world’s vocabulary and replaced with the dollar sign.
10. I will publish my first book, “The Tales of Allen Knob.” The 10 people that read it will suggest the other 6,525,170,254 people in the world stay as far away as possible from it.
Doug and Doug
genuine- free from hypocrisy or dishonesty; sincere
There’s nothing special about Dougs. Dougs are almost the same as any Tom, Bob or Brian. You’ve got all types of Dougs, but it seems that all Dougs are one notch down from everyone else. The best looking Doug could never be as good looking as the best looking Tom. (Check out the Google photo search for Doug. Good grief! Is that Doug Henning on a rainbow?) The smartest Doug would never be as smart as the smartest Brian. But damnit, we’ve got a sense of humor. Dougs are funny. Dougs have personality. Dougs get the last girl at the party, but at least we are not jerking off at the end of the night like the Pauls and the Teds.
I was just flipping through some collections of Flickr photos. I searched for photos of Dougs. Again, mostly not especially good looking guys doing not especially interesting stuff.
But then I found a photo of a Doug that worked for the BBC. Doug had recently died. His friend, nanavut, memorialized him by saying the following:
“Doug Graham, a gentle soul sitting at the rear of this photo; a friend and colleague of mine and many others at the BBC died November 22nd, aged 26.
I remember him for his enthusiasm and positive outlook on life, no matter all the difficulties he himself suffered through. He knew how to see the bright side of everything.
Quick to make friends, genuine in his relationships, kind, and always full of positive energy - Doug taught me alot.
I hope you will remember him along with me.”
And I was sad for their loss. And his loss. And the passing of such a young person.
And then I realized that no one would ever describe me as being genuine. No one would remember me for my positive outlook on life and that I might know which side was the bright one.
And then I did a re-realization. I’m an awful bastard. A heartless ass. A real jerk.
And you know what? Thank God for that.
Thank God there’s someone to cross the line and joke about the awful thing you are thinking, but won’t say. Thank God there’s someone who can point out the bridesmaids that will be getting too drunk or that the first two pews are filled with four divorced couples. That funerals are the best places to laugh. And thank God there’s someone who can thank God knowing full well that he has no faith in His/Her existence. There is humor in everyday life and I want to exploit it to make myself feel better to forget my failings and endless doubt.
Which is good for you, my friend. Otherwise I’d be doing something good and positive instead of writing this.
So from the son of a bitch Doug to the genuine Doug Graham: You were surrounded by people that laughed with you, respected you and loved you. It wasn’t a long enough battle, but in the end you won. Thank you for sharing with me the opportunity to reflect upon my life.
Now, did they bury you in the wheel chair or did you get wheels put on the outside of the coffin?
There’s nothing special about Dougs. Dougs are almost the same as any Tom, Bob or Brian. You’ve got all types of Dougs, but it seems that all Dougs are one notch down from everyone else. The best looking Doug could never be as good looking as the best looking Tom. (Check out the Google photo search for Doug. Good grief! Is that Doug Henning on a rainbow?) The smartest Doug would never be as smart as the smartest Brian. But damnit, we’ve got a sense of humor. Dougs are funny. Dougs have personality. Dougs get the last girl at the party, but at least we are not jerking off at the end of the night like the Pauls and the Teds.
I was just flipping through some collections of Flickr photos. I searched for photos of Dougs. Again, mostly not especially good looking guys doing not especially interesting stuff.
But then I found a photo of a Doug that worked for the BBC. Doug had recently died. His friend, nanavut, memorialized him by saying the following:
“Doug Graham, a gentle soul sitting at the rear of this photo; a friend and colleague of mine and many others at the BBC died November 22nd, aged 26.
I remember him for his enthusiasm and positive outlook on life, no matter all the difficulties he himself suffered through. He knew how to see the bright side of everything.
Quick to make friends, genuine in his relationships, kind, and always full of positive energy - Doug taught me alot.
I hope you will remember him along with me.”
And I was sad for their loss. And his loss. And the passing of such a young person.
And then I realized that no one would ever describe me as being genuine. No one would remember me for my positive outlook on life and that I might know which side was the bright one.
And then I did a re-realization. I’m an awful bastard. A heartless ass. A real jerk.
And you know what? Thank God for that.
Thank God there’s someone to cross the line and joke about the awful thing you are thinking, but won’t say. Thank God there’s someone who can point out the bridesmaids that will be getting too drunk or that the first two pews are filled with four divorced couples. That funerals are the best places to laugh. And thank God there’s someone who can thank God knowing full well that he has no faith in His/Her existence. There is humor in everyday life and I want to exploit it to make myself feel better to forget my failings and endless doubt.
Which is good for you, my friend. Otherwise I’d be doing something good and positive instead of writing this.
So from the son of a bitch Doug to the genuine Doug Graham: You were surrounded by people that laughed with you, respected you and loved you. It wasn’t a long enough battle, but in the end you won. Thank you for sharing with me the opportunity to reflect upon my life.
Now, did they bury you in the wheel chair or did you get wheels put on the outside of the coffin?
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