03.09.02 the fat man's plan

i lost my print copy of the onion, but i found a rant flyer from brooklyn in my bag
I talk like a kid, but I'm older than a vampire bat. And I have demands. I need better drugs. My rent's too high. I miss the snow. I like the weather since the new mayor though, right?
, its reverse a seismograph from september 11th. i have real and shame-inducing difficulty associating cataclysm with the richter scale: getting under the reinforced dining room table was a competitive sport at our house, and earthquakes' magnitudes were, well, scores. 2.3 at the world trade center for 8 seconds, according to this flyer. knowing how sick it would be to sneer doesn't kill the urge.


if a position could approximate the trip, that one might do it. consistently inappropriate reactions to the Heavy and Notable.


i hate museums. no, i hate museums with proctors, and i was nearly removed from the met when i started touching fancy chairs. there's a don delillo passage about the most photographed barn in america - photographers photograph photographers' photographs ad nauseam and it's terribly post modern, our gazing at gazes. for pity's sake, i have no interest in starry night (5' away at the moma, woo woo) if i can't touch it. it will hang for centuries to come, and children's children's children could learn and grow through similar frustrations in that very moma spot when i am dead, and that may be a good thing, my whole starry night not-touching. it still feels wrong.


no touching at the butterfly conservatory in the natural history museum, either. we rushed across town and spent $6 to tiptoe through steaming greenery and not molest the butterflies. it could have been satisfying to know that no one would see what i saw when the exhibit reopened the next day: we saw mouthless moths who would burn through their body fat and die that night, maybe, and newborns who sputtered across the ground because they had no antennae. i'm not trying to say that i enjoy watching things die - i'd be a veterinarian in a heartbeat if i thought i could pull it together for that sort of thing. i'm saying that a butterfly left a docent's hand and landed on my forehead, and i loved our trip because of that.

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