Due to a run on some fabulous anarchist anger this week in Berlin, I got me some great smashed window pictures.
Other than that apparently my brain is a cold, pregnant bear and has wandered off into the mountains to find a place to hibernate.
Jesus. There we go again. This entire week…actually now around ten days…all I put on the page is vomit. Crap. Icky icky things. I fucking hate bears.
I wrote eight pages for the column to follow the interesting pictures I took (ten days ago)…eight friggin’ pages…and each one was worse that the one before. I was like a drunk and manic Frankenstein slapping together a monster before I knew what I had done. When I finally recognized the disfigured mess I had created…again and again I tried to salvage something worthwhile of the carcass, only making the thing more mutant.
I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Dammit. It’s like I’ve been infected with Tom Friedman’s metaphor syphilis. God help me.
Anyway, what I wrote…all 3000 worked over and reworked again words…was an abomination when I got through with it. After much anguish…(I was so in love with some of the worst parts)…I have wielded my big red pen and edited the whole damn beast and I am saving the world from ever seeing such evil. If the Nobel people knew what I am saving the world from…they would give me a prize. You can thank me later.
Here’re the picts.