Saturday, June 09, 2012
Bill Buford is the author of Heat. He is completing a book about being a French cook, provisionally titled Dirt & Dinner: Hauling my Sorry-ass Family to France for Three Years (and Counting).

"We found a flat. It had no oven. The windows didn't shut. It was cold. Bits of semi-frozen Rhone Valley river scum floated into our lungs and infected them with microscopic bronchial suicide bombers. We went to A&E. We got lice. We got lice again. One of our children walked on a taxi seat in his tiny three-year-old shoes; the driver hit him with his fist. I swore at the driver. He thanked me. I swore at myself. Why did I think I spoke French? The plan had been to stay six months. What about six days? Six days passed. Six months passed. Did we forget to leave?"
Housing Market Jitters Keep Lid on Genworth's Share Price

Q:  What impact would a 15-20% housing market price correction have on this thing?

A:  The one that is already priced into it.

Q:  Would Genworth make any money in a market correction?

A:  Not much, but, yes.  Slim profit or approximate break even.

Q:  How long might a market correction last?

A:  3-5 years.

Q:  When did you say you might need that RRSP money?

A:  2035, or thereabouts.

Q:  Interesting.

"It’s easy to forget that Bradbury wrote a lot of horror stories, too. Having been through the Depression and war to emerge in the anonymity of postwar America, how could he not? An emptied world where the smart machinery grinds on, yakking inanely, as the mainstream consumers are nuclear blast shadows stenciled on the outside of their suburban home — a vision from a smiling guy in short pants who spoke reverently of Buck Rogers comics.

People elided his dark, mournful side, because his affect was so brisk and boisterous. He was the sharpest of social critics, but never mean-tempered, like Orwell or Huxley. He was, rather, like that other great portraitist of hard-life Middle America, Edward Hopper, painting horror with an affect of stillness, bleakness, loneliness, bereavement and deprivation."
Friday, June 08, 2012

Found study for Ocean Avenue, 2012, c. 1950s.
Thursday, June 07, 2012

TRANSGENDERED PERSON CARRYING GIANT TEDDY BEAR [after five minutes of complicated wrangling over two dollar-table books]: Do you carry [INSANE LOCAL FREE PUBLICATION]?

CJB:  No.

TPCGTB:  Why is that?

CJB:  Because [INSANE LOCAL FREE PUBLICATION] is like an unmoderated Usenet group, only in print form.

TPCGTB:  Huh.  [beat]  It's not the six o'clock news, that's for sure!
Borges' Preface to The Martian Chronicles - via @jwomack

"Other authors stamp a coming date and we don't believe them, because we know it is a literary convention; Bradbury writes 2004 and we feel the gravitation, the fatigue, the vast and vague accumulation of the past - the 'dark backward and abysm of Time' from the Shakespeare verse. Already the Renaissance had noted, by mouth of Giordano Bruno and of Bacon, that the real Ancient Ones are us, and not the men from Genesis or Homer.

What has this man from Illinois done, I ask myself when closing the pages of his book, that episodes from the conquest of another planet fill me with horror and loneliness?

How can these fantasies touch me, and in such an intimate way? All literature (I dare reply) is symbolic; there are a few fundamental experiences and it is indifferent that a writer, to transmit them, recurs to the fantastic or the real, to Macbeth or to Rascolnikov, to the Belgium invasion in August 1914 or to an invasion of Mars. Who cares about the novel, or novelry [sic] of science fiction? In this book of ghostly appearance, Bradbury has placed his long empty Sundays, his American tedium, his loneliness, like Sinclair Lewis did on Main Street."
Wednesday, June 06, 2012
"[H]e found the inmates kind and curious. They gave him soap and a toothbrush, taught him to play Aces, offered fist bumps and words of encouragement. They threw their arms around his shoulders and posed for mock-photographs, miming a camera; they brandished newspaper articles on his arrest, and asked him to autograph them.

On his final night, one man, imposingly muscled and taciturn, who hadn’t yet spoken to Mr. Miyakawa, broke his silence, telling him, 'All these famous artists suffered before they became famous.'"

Overheard in the street: "Photoconceptualist...ASSHOLE."

Goodnight Ray.  Thanks for the Martian standing at the edge of the desert, and the mail-order mushrooms in the suburban fridge, and The Hallowe'en Tree, my favorite of all of your books.  And for the weird image/music/text sequence at the Expo 86 Californias [sic] pavilion, which I still think of every time I cross Grants Pass into those unmistakeable grey-gold tawny lion-colored hills.
Tuesday, June 05, 2012
2012 BCCA 241 R. v. Barrett -- split decision; win!

"It follows that the conviction depends on the judge’s failure to appreciate the significance of this evidence and that Mr. Barrett did not receive a fair trial – he was the victim of a miscarriage of justice. [....] I would allow the appeal, quash the conviction, and direct a new trial."
Monday, June 04, 2012

Found study for an in-process picture (After Hetty Dorval, Ethel Wilson, 1947, 2012)
Sunday, June 03, 2012

Barnet Highway, 7:30pm, 3 June 2012

And the light they always show to them
Is green, green, green


Peanut gallery, Lytton, BC

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