Now back to the present and the two characters in the Swiss bar, or beer hall in Basel drinking Uli beer and smelling the pungent aroma of alpine Hempf. She is alone at the bar when he comes out of the door marked Herrenand announces, “I just had a great beer shit.”
“I’ll inform the media,” She said.
“I don’t know what it is, but sometimes beer is like a laxative… I feel like I passed a whole cheese cow.”
“Too much information,” She said. “You’re not Bukowski.”
“No, but I just shit like him… and who needs to write when….”
“Right.”
“Write.”
And they were silent and smelled the marijuana and he inhaled and on a T.V., C.N.N. had Rumsfeld on and he said, “Does anyone else think it’s strange that Rumsfeld seems to dress himself to look like MacNamara? The resemblance grows greater the deeper in the shit we get.”
“It is kind of uncanny.. Who is the stylist on this war anyway?”
“MacNamara was supposedly brilliant and all, but doesn’t anyone remember that we lost Vietnam?”
“No,” she said. “They remember Rambo… or Rambo Three…. or what was the last Rambo? We’d like to think we won it somehow.”
“Was it a concious decision to look like MacNamara, or is it just the look that all meglamoniacal men get when they are making huge blunders that they refuse to see or accept?”
“I haven’t smoked pot in forever,” she said smelling it in the bar and Frank Zappa came on the juke box as C.N.N. cut to the war footage and he said, “You never hear Zappa on a juke box in the States….”
“I think he’s more famous in Europe… Moon Unit and Dweezil are more famous in America.”
“Why?” He asked. “What did they ever actually do other than be his kids?”
“They were younger than Frank and in Hollywood…that is how you get famous.”
“What? Be young in Hollywood?”
“It’s a start anyway.”
“Didn’t Vaclav Havel make Zappa his culutural emissary or something?”
“Yeah, but he got cancer.”
“Which one?”
“Both actually…they both got cancer.”
“Always the great ones.”
“Hmmmmm,”she nodded and thought and said, “Dweezil had a cooking show with Lisa Loeb…. and wasn’t Valley Girl Zappa’s only hit?”
“Probably…. Another Beer?”
“Let’s try something else”

It’s a lie; a big non truth … albeit with the proviso that it tries to illuminate the truth… it is lying to get at the truth. Much of the avante garde practice I am interested in, is an attempt to tell the truth from start to finish… to avoid illusions and subterfuge (but often you end up avoiding the audience too which seems to like a good lie now and again), but we are more or less at the finish… the end of the line; the zed to the A; the omega to the alpaha; and so we start where the blog began two years ago:

“Silence,” Yells the assistant to the director. “Quiet Everyone… this is a Take”

The Characters are behind us: Alexandre and Sylvie (or was it Pat and Katherine, or just he and she?) and M. Tristan waiting in the wings.

“Speed!”

The Ghost walks before the lens like Disney on the “Wonderful World of…” and speaks:

“Ladies and Gentlemen I give you: OMegg!”

Not much of an introduction, to be sure, but tonight is all hollow‘s eve and hollow things have a way of bobbing to the surface, like the ghost-white whale rising up from the lower depths to breach and blow and sing and sink again in the dark.

In the first full day of The Library Project, there are 221 members of the flickr group and The first half finished book has been posted by tararossstudios. I thought the color would go well with this vlog covering the last few days in all their magic and loss. I altered it digitally to bring out the color contrast that spoke to me of Taoism. Not sure If I’ll be the one to finish this painting, but it sure will be fun to work on for whoever does. I also like that she painted the enitre surface of the cover, but in a half finished style (as that’s a different approach than most). This famous postcard from Topor was published in 1967, the year of my birth. I have always been facinated at the way a book reflects the essential structure of a human… the way it is split down the middle and held together by a spine annd how it opens up and takes you in and births a whole new reality for the reader. A sensual thing, a book: like sex and cigarettes and stylish shoes…

The dog has Le Cancer… which is whole nother story, but somehow seems related.