IT'S ABOUT TIME

It has been brought to my attention by a few different people that I have not updated this blog in quite a while. This is not the piece about the creative process that has been requested. I hope to add that soon. Meanwhile, here again is my cheap excuse for a new entry, another recapitulation of various Facebook status updates, though not the same updates as before. These are updated updates:

The importance of hyperbole cannot be overstated.

Durable doesn't rhyme with gerbil. 'Terrible' rhymes with both of them though.

"He sees you when you're sleeping. He knows when you're awake." This is what was originally meant by 'Christmas stalking'.

It's quiet. Too quiet.

One reason it is important to be able to spell words correctly: You *think* you are getting a great deal on a computer monitor, but instead find yourself being chased through a maze by a half-man, half beast.

I think this week I'll have two Wednesdays and save Tuesday for some time when I really need it.

I have been asked by the grammar police to pass along the following message: "Your" is a possessive pronoun meaning "belonging to you". "You're" is a contraction meaning "you are". "Yore" is a noun meaning "long ago". "Eeyore" Is a character from Winnie the Pooh. "Yar" is an interjection, primarily used by pirates. The distinction between the first two examples is, it seems, the most pertinent to Facebook.

plinth

First New Year's resolution: Try to come up with a better status update than this.

If I could get all my unused minutes back I'd still be in my teens.

Lather, rinse, repeat... luckily there's only so much shampoo in a bottle.

To people in China it looks like I am holding the earth up with my feet.

When life becomes too complex and exasperating, I think we need to consider the simple solutions our wise and ancient ancestors employed. Smash something with a rock.

I have looked into the future and I have to say, it's not really as futuristic as I had hoped.

"Swordfish"

Wherewithal upholding, insofar as I have heretofore addressed myself herein thereunto, henceforth I shall endeavor forthwith to clarify whatsoever be abstruse, howbeit wheresoever the outward sense be therein implied altogether, whereto such outcome of inward understanding befits nonetheless notwithstanding, wherewith the uppermost is overcome, hereinafter unto the hereafter.

Plagiarism is the sincerest form of creative bankruptcy.

You've heard of Dr. Pepper. You've heard of Sergeant Pepper. But have you heard of their Middle Eastern cousin, Sultan Pepper?

I bet if I just start typing I can come up with something really good.......................................................Damn.

I thought I saw an Eskimo. It turned out it was just an optical Aleutian.

Now, if we could only vote the judges off...

Technically, and to be grammatically correct, "There's no *other* business like show business".

♕ x ♙

These days it seems that there's never even enough time to finish a

I'm not sure why, but I just can't bring myself to trust the ophthalmologist at Wahdoo Eyecare.

'Dr. Awkward' is a palindrome.

Whatever happened to Darth's sister Ella?

I don't believe in reincarnation. Nor do I believe in carnations. Or nations. And not cars, either.

Somewhere on the planet is the one person who can sneeze with their eyes open. This person does not realize that this is their superpower.

I am not afraid of the number 13, but I do get a bit nervous around the word triskaidekaphobia.

They say "You can't have your cake and eat it too." I assume the lesson to be learned is, "Always eat somebody else's cake."

I'll try altruism as soon as somebody can explain what's in it for me.

Myles Pinkney wants to push the button.

Page 56, "Even though Detective Floydson seemed certain that it was the work of a pack of wild coyotes known to roam the area, I couldn't help but think that this explanation could not account for the Monopoly money nor, for that matter, the aircraft engines."

Page 156, "As we cautiously approached the enclosed porch, we could see exactly what we most feared - there, on the hibachi, was all that remained of Detective Floydson." ~ from 'The Missing Eye Witness' by Sawyer DeWitt

Freude, schöner Götterfunken Tochter aus Elysium, Wir betreten feuertrunken, Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!

I may be in the minority opinion here, but I believe that "air quotes" still have a place in our society.

How many times does three go in
To nine hundred and thirty?
The answer, my friend,
Is three hundred and ten,
The answer is three hundred and ten.

Alpaca Lips Now!

When I get my robot, the first thing I'm going to do is have it build another robot. Then I'm going to have that robot build a pyramid.

We were not made for this world, but we did make this world for ourselves.

I am my own evil twin.

I believe that facebook has contributed significantly to the current epidemic of bad puns.

Myles Pinkney's status update is vague and unsatisfying.

They say that if you put an infinite number of monkeys at an infinite number of typewriters that they would eventually produce the complete works of Shakespeare. I say, why go to that much effort when one chimp could write the next Michael Bay movie all by itself?

It's important in this life to never stop asking questions, at least that's what a lot of exceedingly annoying people seem to think.

There's a time and a place for everything, but who's in charge of handing out the itineraries?

This is an important recall notice and warning: Do not purchase the "Scratch and Sniff Book of Mortal Diseases".

There are never enough monkeys in the bucket.

If I had a nickel for every time I used the phrase, "If I had a nickel for every time I used the phrase", I'd have a dime.

Myles Pinkney had another premonition that this would be his status update.

I'd like to thank The Academy. So come on Academy, do something I can be grateful for.

Some guy tried to steal my drill bit that predicts the future. He already has dozens of them. Damned augur auger hogger.

Backdated update: I hope the other kids think my Nehru shirt is groovy.

Art is: 'rat' spelt sideways.

Cryptic

Never end a sentence with the word preposition.

I never hesitate when it's time to procrastinate.

You may have heard the phrase, "Less is more". This is a misconception. Less is the opposite of more.

Myles Pinkney. Check your local listings for show times.

I remember when yesterday was tomorrow.

Sometimes I miss the big banned era.

Myles Pinkney (in his foreign character persona) Are you having fun? If so, then you should be timing the flies.

Tomorrow is "Lie about something trivial day".

There is a time and a place for everything. I am sorry you missed it.

Regarding any and all rumors that you may have heard to the contrary: I am not now, nor have I ever been a member of the Slumber Party.

Now that I know the answer, I forgot what the question was.

Is life disappointing? Try irrational, misdirected anger. Consult your demagogue for recommended daily dosage.

When it comes to tests, I'm both pro and con. I contest the protests and protest the contests.

The diagnosis is in. Apparently it is confirmed as Orthodoxy Deficit Disorder.

All conspiracy theories are hoaxes, conceived of and propagated by a cabal made up of the Masons, the CIA & the Illuminati.

Succinct.

I would not like to live on the sun.

I don't have room for Jello.

I know that I stated previously that all conspiracy theories are hoaxes, conceived of and propagated by a cabal made up of the Masons, the CIA & the Illuminati. However, it has come to my attention, rather forcibly, that this is incorrect. I am instructed to tell you that the actual perpetrators are as follows: the Keebler elves, sentient mold spores and the estate of Wally Cox.

Two wrongs don't make a right. But three lefts do.

There is a universe where everything we do in Photoshop becomes real. They don't know *what* the hell is going on.

I have not yet been evicted from the planet, but dread checking the mail.

In one of the universes of the multiverse you are a movie star - but your movies are terrible.

My friend gave his dog an iPod. I told him it was a terrible idea and a waste of money - and I was right. All the dog ever does with it is listen to Barry Manilow.

Les singes qui volent ont mangé mon fromage délicieux.

Myles Pinkney is experiencing technical difficulties. Please stand by.

Do you wish you were an astronaut? Do you need a good stiff drink? Look down at your keyboard; there is always the Space Bar.

In the time before mirrors and birthdays, there was a lot less useless reflection.

Generally I do not court controversy, but I've put a lot of thought into this and I believe, generally speaking, that it really is for the best that human beings are not soluble in water.

Well, I didn't win the title "Sexiest Man Alive", but I do want to thank those of you who voted for me.

This is not a status update. This is a place holder for a status update. Thank you.

Today's password is "pine cone".

People always ask: "Where do you get your ideas?" and "How long does it take to do a painting?" Nobody ever asks, "How do you get wizards and dragons and fairies to pose for you?" This tells me a lot about people's assumptions.

GROUCHO

I've been reading a not particularly good biography of the Marx Brothers, as well as watching several of the old movies. So I got it into my head to try to come up with some names for Groucho's character that sound plausible. These are those. Let me know what you think:

CHESTER H. HARTSOCK
AVERY FENDERWAX
T. SHYSTER TURNCOAT
MONTGOMERY ALLEN STONEPOLE
LAMBERT Q. LAMBERT
G. CRAYFISH MOUNTEBANK
KLAXTON VERNON SHOEHEEL

Of course Chico and Harpo would need names as well ('Monkey Business' notwithstanding), not to mention Margaret Dumont.
For Zeppo I'll just stick with Jamison.

DAVE MERRICK AND 'INDIGO'

My friend Dave Merrick's most famous piece to date is probably his wolf portrait, 'Indigo'. If you are not familiar with it, turn around. It is hanging on the wall behind you.

Bob Hope, Weird Al Yankovic and Tom Selleck are a few of the known owners of this print.

Its presence is truly ubiquitous. You cannot go to a gallery without having it gaze down upon you. Once Dave was traveling across the country and found himself in an airport gallery looking at his own creation hanging prominently for all to see. The gallery owner, noting the direction of his gaze, sidled up to him and said, "Isn't it a beautiful piece". Dave, not wanting to be too brazen, said, "I know the fellow who painted the original". The gallery owner, unbelieving and unimpressed, walked away without saying another word.

Some time later, Dave was driving through town when his eye was captured by an unexpected sight. There, along the roadside, was another version of Indigo, fashioned as a blanket. It would be worth mentioning at this point that Dave had never given permission for the use of the artwork as a blanket. So Dave, doing what we all wish we would do, brought his friend the detective to the roadside emporium to make a polite inquiry as to the supplier of the contraband wares. His detective friend put it simply, "I want to know who's making these things."

Phone calls were made.

The end of the story is that the distributors were actually quite happy to be contacted and to negotiate a proper contract. Royalties are now being paid to the artist, the creator - Dave Merrick.

FAME TAG

The concept of celebrity has undergone a strange transmutation, especially since the advent of so-called 'reality TV'. I'm not talking about the kind that looks for persons with talent, but the kind that follows the exploits of people who, as far as I can tell, were smacked smartly upside the head with a ball-peen hammer just before the cameras were turned on.

I have a proposal.

How about something called 'Fame Tag'? I haven't got the details worked out, but whoever is "it" is famous. They are followed by the paparazzi, reported on ad nauseam, appear on talk shows, lied about in the tabloids, flattered to the point where they lose contact with reality, and generally lavished with unwarranted praise and criticism about the minutiae of their lives until... TAG!, somebody else is it.

BLACKOUT

There was a loud "pop".

The screen went dark and I was suddenly disconnected from the world, expelled from the grid. The lights were out, too. No way to work in paint or pixels.

I keep one of those flashlights that charges in a wall socket, then flashes on when the power goes out. It was the only light in the studio. Made me feel smart to be even so minimally prepared. I grabbed it and went upstairs to check on Mary, then outdoors to make sure that it wasn't just our house. No, the neighborhood was dark, though the houses and streetlights only a block north were glowing normally. I talked to the neighbors who were also assessing the situation. We were all using flashlights. Since we didn't point them in each other's faces, it was like talking to invisible people, but, unlike most times, they talked back. Somebody had called the utilities company and had been told that it would be two to three hours before power would be restored.

Mary had lit some candles. She went to bed, but it was too early for me. I took the candles downstairs and began to write this little piece for the blog.

Are the crickets always this loud?

I am not a back-to-nature kind of guy. I like my modern conveniences. My faith in the power company is such that I do not contemplate buying a generator or stocking up on supplies or investing in weapons. I do not yearn for this adjournment from electricity to become a lifestyle. I am content to be dependent on those whose skills and knowledge will get the juice flowing again. But I do hope that some of them have invested in some form of my artwork, even just a puzzle or collector plate, to help complete the circle of life.

UPDATES

It has been fun coming up with new status updates for Facebook. Of course, they disappear after a while, so I thought I might add them to this blog. That plus it makes for a very easy entry:

Myles Pinkney isn't sure that that these extraterrestrials are ever going to understand the concept of a 'coupon'.

Myles Pinkney likes the word 'anthropomorphic'. It likes him too.

Myles Pinkney is telekinetically restoring balance to certain portions of the Milky Way galaxy. Do not startle him.

Whenever I'm feeling down I just think to myself, "Myles, repair the pillow or get a new one".

Myles Pinkney is transmuting matter into energy. Though digestion is a less efficient process than nuclear fission, it is also less dangerous.

Myles Pinkney thinks "asparagus" might be a palindrome.
Let's see.............................. Nope.

A word to the wise: Never glue your pets together.

After examining the facts, applying scientific method and objectively looking at all the evidence, I have come to the conclusion that my uninformed opinion was much more interesting.

Myles Pinkney has just discovered how much more exciting life is with exclamation points!!!!!!!!

Whenever I'm blue I just take a deep breath, but I don't hold it for as long as I did the first one.

I often hear discussions of topics where the opposing points of view are explained, followed by the phrase, "the truth lies somewhere in between". This idea makes no sense to me. I don't think the truth lies at all.

Myles Pinkney feels that the demands of his vocation are occasionally overwhelming. He wonders if he would qualify to go into the government's Witless Profession Program.

Comparing art to religion, that's a science. Comparing religion to science, that's an art. But comparing science to art, now that's
a religion.

I used to think that one of my legs was shorter than the other, but I just checked and they are both equally short. The disturbing thing is, now neither of my feet touch the ground.

CREIGHTON PETERMANS

Somewhere near the outer edge of one of those three syllable states that are so hard to locate on a map unless your own state actually borders it, one whose name features the vowels I and O, but very little else (not the potato one or the corn one), lives Creighton Petermans. Creighton Petermans is not, of course, his real name. His real name is Clayton Peterson, hereinafter referred to as "Bob".

I first met Clayton, "Bob", when we were both about... I am going to say 10. Why 10? Because that was the year that Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band came out and the incident that I am about to mostly invent will probably have something to do with that. Clayton lived in a town not far from my own and was friends with a friend of mine who was my friend because our parents were friends. At that time he looked like a prepubescent blond Beatle, with a radical hairstyle that included bangs and hair that actually overlapped his ears. He rode a bike with ape hanger handle bars, a banana seat and a four foot sissy bar on the back. As I saw it, he was practically a Hell's Angel. I don't remember what we talked about, most likely the recent release of the album Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band. (See?)

Skipping ahead somewhat less than a decade, and just after High School, Clayton and I became reacquainted in college. We were both Theater Majors at a small arts college in Denver. He no longer had the Beatles hairstyle, but something more akin to that worn by an unkempt jungle cat. Those whose acquaintance with Clayton ("Bob") is more recent might be surprised at his coiffuric history, since these days he sports a style one might charitably refer to as 'minimalist'. But in those days he had a wild look that set him apart from the crowd. I'm not sure which crowd he was set apart from, but I guarantee they kept their distance.

While I had delusions of being the next Olivier (seriously), Clayton (I'm going to forget all about that "Bob" thing) was focussed on stagecraft. At this he excelled, as he does to this day. It would be pleasant for him, no doubt, if I were to spend some words at this point praising his skills. I know he was very good, but frankly, I wasn't paying that much attention. No, what I remember is that we decided that we were going to climb to the roof of every building on the college grounds, which we did with very little regard to our personal safety. The theater building was easy, there being a hatch above the flies. Others varied in their degree of difficulty, but the prize was the main building's bell tower. It had been sealed off for years because pigeons from several continents had made it their favorite toilet. We had to climb out of a top floor window and crab walk backward up the steep roof to gain our destination. In any movie about such antics, there would be a comical chase, shattered trophy cases, mascots falling into aquariums and sundry frenetic scenes involving "nerds" and "jocks", maybe even somebody in a toga.

We waved at some friends and climbed back down. We didn't even get threatened by the dean. I'm honestly not sure if we had a dean.

End Part I

Clayton's Web Site: http://www.claytongpeterson.com