҉ Welcome to the post Thanksgiving-post, food-induced coma edition of my blog. ҉
It’s lighter, less filling, gluten and dairy free
(unless you count the following cheesy jokes):
What happened after an explosion at a French cheese factory?
All that was left was de brie.
What is the name of the country near Iraq that is made entirely of cheese?
Curd-istan
What cheese surrounds a medieval castle?
Moatzeralla
What do you call a hunk of cheddar that isn’t yours?
Nacho Cheese!
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Department of Name Your Poison
It’s the day after. Is it Black Friday for you? Or National Buy Nothing Day? It’s your choice. I sentimentally and intellectually dread the former [1] and support the latter, particularly the organizers’ [2] suggestions for playful activities to challenge the “entrenched values of capitalism” and shine a spotlight on consumers’ addictions to immediate gratification.
You could camp out in front of the Apple Store with a bajillion greedy, self-centered selfish over-consuming zombies other gadget fans who would trample their own arthritis-stricken grandmother if it meant they could be one of the first to have the hottest techno toy eagerly await the release of the latest I-yi-yi gadget, but it might be more fun to annoy them by participating in a Buy Nothing Day Zombie Walk:
“The cheerful dead wander around malls, marveling at the blank, comatose expressions on the faces of shoppers. The zombies are happy to be among their own kind, but slightly contemptuous of those who have not yet begun to rot.”
* * *
Making Ursula Proud of Me
Last week Ursula K. LeGuin gave a kickass speech at the National Book Awards ceremony. She was there to receive an award for distinguished contribution to American letters, and in her acceptance speech the not-so-soft-spoken 85 year old LeGuin rebuked literary profiteers and the “corporate fatwa” [3] which IHHO threaten writers.
“Right now, I think we need writers who know the difference between the production of a market commodity and the practice of an art….Books, you know, they’re not just commodities. The profit motive often is in conflict with the aims of art.”
One look at my royalty statements for The Mighty Quinn (or any of my works) would affirm that my motivation must be art, not profit. [4]
Yeah – that’s the ticket.
* * *
Just Wondering
Speaking of pathetic royalty statements (an honest-to-goodness segue!), as I ponder my mid life crisis dwindling career options – specifically, should I jump the fiction writers’ ship and if so, is there a less soul-sucking way to remain a part of the Creative Arts ® ? – I find myself considering a foray into movie making.
Yep, like every other writer (established or wannabe) moiself is [5] writing a screenplay. Do you think Hollywood (or Bollywood?) [6] is ready for the tale of a gigolo with a heart of gold, who services his lonely clients without asking for payment?
I’m thinking of calling it, Free Willy.
Just say the safe word, ma’am, and I’ll put on the orca suit.
* * *
May your Friday be every color of the rainbow, and may the hijinks ensue.
Thanks for stopping by. Au Vendredi!
[1] Shopping, for me, is a chore, not a recreational pursuit. The idea of voluntarily shopping on one of the busiest shopping days of the year…. I just don’t get it, whomever you are, People Who Do Such Things.
[3] (read: the Amazon- Hatchett dispute)
[4] Either that, or I’m just an incompetent business boob.
[5] I need at least one more footnote, or my footnote-counting friend SCM will complain.
[6] I’m not picky, and I think my idea lends itself well to a lavish musical treatment.
