Saturday, January 10, 2009
The flame gun is real, Lana & Von. Its from a 1950s ad that was reprinted on the LA Times' Daily Mirror blog. The snow isn't that bad and I actually walked out in my Chinese See Thru Kitchen t-shirt (yep, its at 109th & Western). Then I promptly slipped and fell into the snow, but screw it. I'm almost dry and I have an Arby's sandwich waiting for me in a few minutes. I read BAYOU GIRL, by John Thompson, years back, read the entire book on my way to and from the Chicago ComicCon. Its not that great a book, pulp fiction at its lurid finest. But I've always loved one passage of the book, and I have long saved it with a list of quotes I've saved over the years. The rest of the book is mediocre, but something about this passage just stays in my head.
It isn’t a Colorado moon...it is a lecherous red...almost. It leers...a carnal, fertile leer that makes the blood stir. Here I can wallow in richness, I can touch beauty. I can walk in that cypress and tear off its’ needles and smear myself with stickiness, the blood of the tree. Here I am part of the scheme of everything because I can creep into the bloodstream. I do not have to sit on a crag and admire a distant abstract. Here beauty is not something to be seen, but tasted, eaten, worn.