On one hand, we’ve become so acclimatized to absurdity it seems we need to have one hell of an imagination to invent new ways into its delightful surprise or revulsion. On the other hand, there’s so fucking much of it everywhere—an embarrassment of inspiration—our lot is to turn everyday standard absurdity into some third thing. Absurdism wouldn’t exist without this cycle. And absurdism may not exist.
I’m working on three (non-scholarly) articles/essays/things: one on hybrid & beyond-genre expression, one on absurdist & surrealist writing, and one to be announced. Was looking at my Make Me Pretty photo set (below) and how for years my eyes were trained to spot the weird ones. Mannequins were mundane for who knows how long. Then they started out-absurding one another. But the absurdism became so contrived it was ubiquitous and boring. Now I kind of like it again. You just walk by, grab a pic, and say “WTF, humans?” Anyway, I’d love to meet the merchandising folks behind all of it. I hope they’re having a good laugh and wearing off-the-wall outfits and giving big to animal non-profits.
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Were you in school in the early 90s? Was your class invited to grow Space Tomatoes? Mine grew really well until a surprise frost killed them and I felt really bad about my contribution to the cosmos. Amazingly, the original seeds are still available if you wanna throw down $99.
Here’s my nifty gadget for peeling, coring, slicing, and ultimately dehydrating apples. This particular apple is a Pink Pearl. It’s apple season here in California and we have a dozen heirloom trees. I can’t stand apple pie.
Make Me Pretty
