(no subject)

I should know this statue.

I don't.

Baby goat around his neck – That would make him Isaac, right? Some Biblical character. But what the hell is that dangling from his right hand?

Anyway it comes from a very amusing set of pix depicting classical statuary in hipster garb – though, of course, I personally would not call what this statue is wearing "hipster garb." More like Sean John-inspired I'm nouveau riche and I have no taste-garb. But then I am terminally unhip!

I dedicate this photo to my pal sulphuroxide who devotes much of his spare time to the study of hipster anthropology so that the rest of us don't have to.

In other news I am brain dead and have been watching a documentary on Netflix called The Story of Film: An Odyssey, essentially Film Criticism for Dummies. At the end of 900 minutes, you should be able to impress the hipsters in yourlife with your extensive knowledge of Goddard and Antonioni. Narrator is mildly irritating to listen to, though, because my ear insists upon deciphering his accent as Swedish even though he's Irish.

Film as a collaborative art form doesn't scare me even though practically everything else about marching lock step with the other members of the hive – which, face it, is the only way people are gonna be living 50 years from now – does scare me. Go figure. Fortunately for everyone, I'll be dead in 50 years so I won't be around to make any trouble. I'm working on being reincarnated in another solar system as a silicon-based life form with a life expectancy of 5,000 years who lives completely alone in the bowels of a great crystal planet and reproduces through chemical processes involving photons and soundwaves. Have my resume in to the Bardo U Provost; tryin' to track down references.