Here's something you might be interested in.
The world must be alerted to the presence of this tremendously sweet guitar:
1998 Gibson Blueshawk - $900 (Normal Heights)
They didn't make a lot of them, and they didn't make them for long, but damn those 'Hawk guitars sounded good, sportin' the P90s and whatnot. Worth every penny, I assure you. What's probably not worth $900 but maybe somebody thought it might have been?
Beanie Babies - $1 (normal heights)
Hey-o! Welcome back to '95! Let's all storm a Mickey D's and try to get the new ones before everyone else! For a compelling read, try the Beanie Bay wiki, which makes a great effort at breaking down the logic of creating and maintaining a fad. Good stuff. Still, I think I'm going to give the day's Runner-Up award to:
100+ Magazines for Free (Normal Heights)
It's the perfect touch for my waiting room project! Ought to be something for everyone in such a magnificent stack of forlorn periodicals. Can't wait to put on some elevator music and rifle through a two year old GQ. Even so, my pick for the objectively selected best for sale ad on craigslist today has to be:
Koehler 'Memoirs' toilet -- custom 'sky blue' color NEW - $175 (normal heights)
I'm giving this guy lots and lots of credit for posing (whether truthfully or not, it doesn't matter) this for sale toilet as an attempt to make recompense for losing his home in a craigslist based loan scam. Definitely something you don't see every day. Plus, it gels so nicely with yesterday's scammerific blog post. Maybe I'll throw both the usual No-Prize and the Special Scammer No-Prize out there for him--it's the least I can do, considering the loss of his home, and whatnot.
I've got to pick a little fight with the Kohler corporation, however, over naming a model of toilet the "Memoir." Totally unacceptable. Toilets are the last thing in the world to which anyone would want to attach any permanent memories. In fact, any lasting memories forged in the vicinity of the toilet are probably highly unpleasant ones involving illness or excessive drinking. Every memory I have of clinging to the edge of the bowl in order to avoid being swept away by a relentless tide of nausea and lost in the spinning of the world is one that I would really prefer not to keep. Kohler, however, has different ideas.
I like to think of memory as a sort of indexed, cross-referenced, nodal system.1 Highly classified, memories flow into and out of one another in a techno-organic fashion which bridges the gap between nature and artifice. Various themes act as the aforementioned nodes, serving as weird sorts of jumping-off points between memories, linking different memories together in new and interesting ways. In big picture terms, it's probably best described as a sort of net or chain-link fence. There's a pathway between every other point, though it's seldom a straight or easy to follow trail.
Now, imagine that the Kohler corporation had their way and every memory was rooted in toilet imagery. Every memory you had of a carnival was only accessible through the lens of reeking porta-potties. Any recollection of your old homes would always precede from the lavatory outwards. Each thought of past camping trips could only begin while hunkering down behind a tree. Remembering a good meal could only happen if you had visited the loo at the restaurant (and good luck savoring past delicacies from that standpoint!). Kohler corporation, while I applaud the ambition of your megalomaniacal efforts to re-shape the entire world of consumer spending around your strangely expen$ive crappers, I am afraid that I must defy you in creating this toilet-centric worldview. I just can't in good conscience let you re-shape the world's perception of itself from the vantage point of the Porcelain Altar, regardless of how many times I may or may not have worshipped thereupon!
1. This is based entirely on my own experience of my own memories. Things rae probably different from the brain's point of view. But, hey, who cares, really?
The world must be alerted to the presence of this tremendously sweet guitar:
1998 Gibson Blueshawk - $900 (Normal Heights)
They didn't make a lot of them, and they didn't make them for long, but damn those 'Hawk guitars sounded good, sportin' the P90s and whatnot. Worth every penny, I assure you. What's probably not worth $900 but maybe somebody thought it might have been?
Beanie Babies - $1 (normal heights)
Hey-o! Welcome back to '95! Let's all storm a Mickey D's and try to get the new ones before everyone else! For a compelling read, try the Beanie Bay wiki, which makes a great effort at breaking down the logic of creating and maintaining a fad. Good stuff. Still, I think I'm going to give the day's Runner-Up award to:
100+ Magazines for Free (Normal Heights)
It's the perfect touch for my waiting room project! Ought to be something for everyone in such a magnificent stack of forlorn periodicals. Can't wait to put on some elevator music and rifle through a two year old GQ. Even so, my pick for the objectively selected best for sale ad on craigslist today has to be:
Koehler 'Memoirs' toilet -- custom 'sky blue' color NEW - $175 (normal heights)
I'm giving this guy lots and lots of credit for posing (whether truthfully or not, it doesn't matter) this for sale toilet as an attempt to make recompense for losing his home in a craigslist based loan scam. Definitely something you don't see every day. Plus, it gels so nicely with yesterday's scammerific blog post. Maybe I'll throw both the usual No-Prize and the Special Scammer No-Prize out there for him--it's the least I can do, considering the loss of his home, and whatnot.
I've got to pick a little fight with the Kohler corporation, however, over naming a model of toilet the "Memoir." Totally unacceptable. Toilets are the last thing in the world to which anyone would want to attach any permanent memories. In fact, any lasting memories forged in the vicinity of the toilet are probably highly unpleasant ones involving illness or excessive drinking. Every memory I have of clinging to the edge of the bowl in order to avoid being swept away by a relentless tide of nausea and lost in the spinning of the world is one that I would really prefer not to keep. Kohler, however, has different ideas.
I like to think of memory as a sort of indexed, cross-referenced, nodal system.1 Highly classified, memories flow into and out of one another in a techno-organic fashion which bridges the gap between nature and artifice. Various themes act as the aforementioned nodes, serving as weird sorts of jumping-off points between memories, linking different memories together in new and interesting ways. In big picture terms, it's probably best described as a sort of net or chain-link fence. There's a pathway between every other point, though it's seldom a straight or easy to follow trail.
Now, imagine that the Kohler corporation had their way and every memory was rooted in toilet imagery. Every memory you had of a carnival was only accessible through the lens of reeking porta-potties. Any recollection of your old homes would always precede from the lavatory outwards. Each thought of past camping trips could only begin while hunkering down behind a tree. Remembering a good meal could only happen if you had visited the loo at the restaurant (and good luck savoring past delicacies from that standpoint!). Kohler corporation, while I applaud the ambition of your megalomaniacal efforts to re-shape the entire world of consumer spending around your strangely expen$ive crappers, I am afraid that I must defy you in creating this toilet-centric worldview. I just can't in good conscience let you re-shape the world's perception of itself from the vantage point of the Porcelain Altar, regardless of how many times I may or may not have worshipped thereupon!
1. This is based entirely on my own experience of my own memories. Things rae probably different from the brain's point of view. But, hey, who cares, really?
I entirely approve your idea of the net or network structure of your memories, and think it is probably close to what we have, with the exception that it is becoming clear that we do completely lose access to memories as time goes on.
Thank you also for saving us from the Koehler regime.
That porcelain oracle's a pretty good deal, apparently:
http://www.pricegrabber.com/koehler+memoirs+toilet+blue/products.html/form_keyword=koehler+memoirs+toilet+blue/st=query/sv=search_top/topcat_id=30
I had coworkers back in '96 or so that were SO into Beanie Babies that they literally had HUNDREDS of them, on which they had spent THOUSANDS. I confess to having had about a dozen of them, of which I currently have 4 left. I got all the popular bears. I even had the coveted "Princess Diana" bear, which at its zenith was worth $300. (I paid retail, which I believe was $12.99.)
http://cgi.ebay.com/PRINCESS-Diana-of-Wales-Bear-TY-BEANIE-BABY-NEW_W0QQitemZ290376189872QQcmdZViewItemQQptZLH_DefaultDomain_0?hash=item439bc507b0
See, I was the official "Beanie Baby Runner" for Beanie-crazed women in my office. My route went through the mountains to a little tourist trap of a gift shop that somehow got these things QUICK. As soon as they came out. The girls would put in their orders, hand me their cash, and I'd go pick these things up and bring them back. These were women in their 40s, and they acted like little kids at Christmas. It was kinda bizarre.
On the same route, I had a young couple in my subdivision who did NOTHING but sell Beanie Babies on eBay for a living, and they were in a new house. I'd back up to their garage, and it would be filled with Priority Mail boxes full of these things that they'd sold on something called "eBay" and were shipping out.
Don't suppose I could trade my Beanies for that Gibson, do ya?
:)
SD--I'm glad you approve, ackshully! Your erudite status carries much weight in my ramblings.
AG--Thanks for the anecdote of the month there. Managing to "Ty" the Beanie Baby fad to a fledgling eBay is epically nineties-savvy of you )
What? No good memories can come from a toilet? Pike, my good friend, I believe you are mistaken. I will not go into any situational details that may explain my take on how a toilet can be your friend but I will say that it really is possible to love your toilet. Besides, I believe toilets are highly underrated. If you don't believe me, then outhouses wouldn't be against the law.
As for the above mentioned commode, why periwinkle? Though it can be rather poetic, actually....
"Last night at two I took a tinkle in my periwinkle loo."
I can't believe no one wants to publish my writing... sigh.
"Periwinkle Loo" is the name of my very next punk band.
As the San Diego representative of the Paris Review, let me be the first to say, "Adam, you're in the poetry edition." :)
re: #6:
...and for the low processing fee of $49.95, we will put your poem in the hardbound edition, with five free framed copies, in handsome faux cherry. :)