Bad blog, bad blog, whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do if they don’t read you?

Well, I reckon a person could minimize their effort and simply post random shots from the 60′s, 70′s, and 80′s and then write a few lines about each. The older a person gets, pass the beer nuts. Also pass the whiskey, and never, ever venture into Harlan County, Kentucky unless you are strapped. Next season, SAMCRO rides into Harlan County. Look for it in episode 5.6 of Sons. This is complete bullshit–I don’t know what I’m talking about. Next slide, please.

Here’s a man named Mike who used to tame wild birds in the park near the Honolulu Zoo, back in eighty-two or thereabouts. He had endocranial electromagnetic waves, or so I’ve heard. These waves evidently fluctuated in amplitude and wavelength–amazing, really.

This is The Old Dead Elephant, one-time inhabitant of a zoo that has no elephants anymore. He was morose. I always felt guilty taking his picture, but that never stopped me.

Life is a series of snapshots. Retaining–or recapturing–the spaces between the snapshots is an elusive goal.


© Pseudocognitive