The Truth*: January 2012

Of Course, Do This in Your Car Any Other Day and the King Co. Sheriff's Department Is Going to Want to Have a Word with You (Don't Ask Me How I Know)

Cool. Hip. Artsy. Edgy. Well played, New York. Well played, indeed. But you know, if you hoist a funky pole, Seattle will run a freak flag up it, so by sponsoring this event, you knew it was only a matter of time before we replied, “Game on!”

True, Seattle doesn't have a subway system, only bus service, but if you've been on one of our buses, you know pants-less passengers pop up unexpectedly more than once a year. You also know it's neither cool nor hip nor artsy when it happens, and it's only edgy when incontinence is involved, as is, shamefully, too often the case. (It's generally the motive behind the pants-lessness—sad, I know.) As it turns out, the only thing the pants-less and incontinent love more than air drying their weeping brown eyes is free metro transit to all downtown locations. It doesn't make a good canvas for freak flag fun.

Which is why, partially, we opened our Light Rail Service last year. Yeah, ostensibly, we built it because we needed a commuter train linking the city to the airport, but I like to think we also did it so we could participate in the annual No Pants Ride.

Game on, mofos!

That's right, NYC. It. Is. On.

Punch Someone in the Chest for MLK Day. It's What He Would Have Wanted

My goal for MLK Day wasn't to do something grand, like spread justice throughout the land. It was to do something meager, something a person with my moral defects could manage. My goal: Don't put any more injustice into the mix.

Goal met.

Since there're still a few minutes left in the day, I'm going to bed before I screw this up.

Happy MLK Day, everyone!

Philada. July 5. 1775

Mr. Strahan

You are a Member of Parliament, and one of that Majority which has doomed my Country to Destruction. You have begun to burn our Towns and murder our People. — Look upon your hands! They are stained with the Blood of your Relations! — You and I were long Friends:— You are now my Enemy, — and

I am,

Yours.

B. Franklin

There's much to admire in Ben Franklin. He was a activist, a revolutionary, a publisher, and a lech. But the title of his I admire most is letter writer.

I've always been an avid letter writer. When I was a kid, I was a pen pal. When I was in college, an activist with Amnesty International. It hasn't been until recently that I've slacked off, e-mail and text messaging filling in the void.

As convenient as those media are, they are not the same. Letter writing — pen to paper, stamp and post — is artful; it remains one of life's great pleasures for me. I hope I'll have more time to do it this year.

When I do, I hope I can follow Ben's example: concise, poetic, and clear. “I am yours.” Indeed.

That letter comes from this website, Letters of Note.

I've recommended it before, when I discovered what a misogynistic shit Mickey Mantle was. Keep in mind, “misogynistic shit” does not mean “not funny” because I laughed aloud when I read his contribution to the site. It's worth revisiting.

In 2012, You Can Still Get Reasonable Doubt for a Reasonable Price at Loman & Associates, Ltd.

A 36-year-old woman was accused of causing $10,000 worth of damage to a painting by the late abstract expressionist artist Clyfford Still, a work valued at more than $30 million, authorities said on Wednesday.

A police report said Carmen Tisch punched and scratched the painting, an oil-on-canvas called "1957-J no.2", at the recently opened Clyfford Still museum in Denver and pulled her pants down to slide her buttocks against it.

Tisch was charged with felony criminal mischief on Wednesday and has been held on a $20,000 bond since the incident in late December, said Lynn Kimbrough, spokeswoman for the Denver District Attorney's Office....

Tisch will be formally advised of the charges on Friday, Kimbrough said.

“Bifferson Loman, Esq. for the defense, Your Honor.”

“And how does your client intend to plea, Mr. Loman?”

“The same as all of my clients, Your Honor—Innocent.”

“Naturally.

“I'm sure the district attorney is as curious as I am as to how you plan to argue Innocence. Any chance we could have a preview of your strategy?”

“Certainly. Your Honor, my client's only crime is that like so many artists before her, she is misunderstood in her lifetime.…”

“Oh, jesus…

“In the early 20th century, Duchamp signed an urinal and asked, ‘Is it art?’

Exhibit A

“When my client was so rudely interrupted, she was in the midst of turning Duchamps' proposition on its head—looking at art and asking, ‘Is this the urinal?’ ”

“Your client is an artist? Who works in urine?”

“You have heard of the Piss Christ, haven't you, Your Honor?”

“Okay, but she seen rubbing her derrière against the painting…”

It was after she'd urinated, Your Honor. She was simply patting the dew off the daisy, as it were.”

“So the punching and scratching, …?”

“Part of the act: She was miming the frantic motions that go into setting off motion detectors for the soap dispenser, water, and paper towel machine, her point being, you can be an artist, and a lady.”

“So, your client is innocent of criminal mischief, guilty of conceptual art? I'm not buying it, Mr. Loman.”

“Of course, not, Your Honor. I wouldn't expect you to. But you give me one incontinent jurist, and my client is going to walk out of here an innocent woman.”

“I look forward to your day in court, Mr. Loman.”

God's Blog

UPDATE: Pretty pleased with what I’ve come up with in just six days. Going to take tomorrow off. Feel free to check out what I’ve done so far. Suggestions and criticism (constructive, please!) more than welcome. God out.