7/22/08 - Sojourn pt. 2 (Iguanas For F*cking Idiots)

okay, onward we went, wagons south and so forth, towards the outskirts of what's considered officially jackson proper (i have no idea whether or not that is true), to the goodwill on south highland street. this is a huge store in a pretty high traffic location, so it was definitely like shifting into high gear after the sleepy trip down the lazy river that was the lafayette thrift market. okay, that's probably a little bit of an exaggeration, but the goodwill was a lot bigger, brighter, and noisier. but what's all this talk of iguanas, you ask?

this is. this is what it is, dammit. this. this book. this book is called "Iguanas for Dummies" and i do not even know where to begin detailing the depths of its awesomeness. a gigantic cornucopia of hilarity just blossomed in my brain the instant my eyes set upon this, perhaps the funniest book ever written, intentionally or otherwise. my head basically exploded, and actually if anything i think it's a testament to the sheer unstoppable force of the human will that i was able to make it through the day, and indeed sit here typing this in relative composure even now, using only the random bits of brain stem and stray cerebral matter that weren't completely annihilated in the explosion. i guess we really do only use about ten percent of our brains, huh?

if, god forbid, you had to narrow down your (naturally) VAST wealth of options when it comes to purchasing an iguana-related tome, to only ONE (i shudder at the mere suggestion), apparently this would have to be the one, at least according to whoever it was that they paid to say that thing so they could quote it there. as if the the average iguana enthusiast was just so overwhelmed, so swamped with iguana-centric literature options that they were fairly well crying out for one authoritative, seminal text to put all the pretenders to rest and state, with certainty, for all time, the proper methods for procuring, preserving, and proselytizing (?) all the virtues of the most noble creature on god's green earth: the iguana.

okay here's what it is, here's my deal. if you're actually deranged enough to want to purchase, adopt, or otherwise come into ownership and care of one of these hideous little evolutionary misfires in the first place, do you really need to go out and get a book to help you figure out whether or not your desire is sincere? i think if you have to hesitate, even for a millisecond, you probably don't have what it takes to own an iguana. it's kind of like being in the marines, i imagine. i hope. and again, if you need written instruction on how to "bond" with an iguana, let alone how to "integrate" it into your life, chances are you will never be able to pull said tasks off. in that sense i suppose iguana ownership is kind of like true religious devotion, or the spark of creative genius or whatever: you either have it or you don't. what a frightening thought.

this just cracked me up, too, in a way that i couldn't really put my finger on. something about all these little black kids climbing up the side of a building...this is why i love photography. here's my question, though. do you really want to modify this kind of behavior? if i happened to chance across this particular scene my first reaction would be to pull up a chair, followed by cracking a beer, loudly applauding, and probably taking some pictures of my own, in no particular order. i know adolescent mischief is kind of out of hand nowadays and we have a responsibility as adults to raise kids that are at least smart enough not to wander out into traffic on a daily basis but jesus, aren't you just a little bit jealous of these little mother lovers, deep down in your heart of hearts? i don't ever want to stop stuff like this from happening.

in my america, little kids of any race, gender, or religious persuasion will be able to climb up the side of any damn building they like, regardless of political leanings, socioeconomic backgrounds, or standardized test scores. that's right people, i am officially declaring my intention to be the next president of the united states...my campaign starts now. as much as i love barack obama (i wear a button and everything) i feel like he's not really representing the america i know and love: one that mainly revolves around thrift stores, drinking beer at 12:45 in the afternoon, and little black kids climbing up the sides of buildings in photographs. i know i am getting a late start but i feel my campaign will gather momentum quickly because of the youtube googler blogger to the myspace googler of the iphone google blogging. and technology. hey, it worked for howard dean.


someone get started on my bumper stickers, please

i don't remember why i took a picture of this. possible reasons include:

1. it's just great...just look at it
2. as a response to the previous picture - this is probably the most effective way to modify child and adolescent behavior
3. it's from 1983 (24 years ago, mind you) and it was still selling for like 2.99. anyone care to explain that?

so here we are again. me, and my old nemesis, dr. norman vincent peale. facing off, like two existentialist gunslingers, like yin and yang, like chocolate and peanut butter - natural enemies, in case you didn't know. but dammit how do you really get a leg up on someone who's so relentlessly positive? he's like jesus, it's f*cking impossible to get on the guy's bad side...he doesn't have one. this guy..."the power of positive thinking"..."the true joy of positive living"...what's the one i saw at the next store, "dynamic imaging: the power to change your life"...is it so wrong that i just want to choke a bitch? i'm not saying severe pessimism has the solutions to all the world's problems either or anything, it's just...sh*t like this just makes me more convinced than ever that someone has to be out there pointing out the storm cloud attached to the silver lining, just so we don't all get too worked up and just happy ourselves right off the side of a damn cliff, know what i mean?

a rare occurrence: a photo of an ass hat wearing an ass hat. cherish this moment. cherrriiisssssshhhh iiiitttttt......

and, as i've mentioned before, i know relatively little about gospel music, but isn't it all sort of supposed to be based around a kind of pleasant humility? like, that is to say, even the most talented gospel performers are sort of supposed to go out there with the presumption that they all pale in comparison to, oh, i don't know, the freaking heavenly host? actually titling your album "a song the holy angels cannot sing" just really smacks of, oh, i don't know...pride? vanity? are those things sins? they should be, if they're not.

this was really the only kind of intense and cool thing that i saw, and i didn't even end up buying it. five record set, with all sorts of historical speeches and interviews and whatever with your basic huge figures of the early twentieth century. a detail shot:

i mean you kind of can't really buy a set of vinyl lps that contain the voices of winston churchill, adolph hitler, and josef stalin, along with lou gehrig's farewell speech and the hindenburg disaster. if nothing else the next time you want to drop some acid and lay on the floor all night with a pair of headphones on...HAVE I GOT THE RECORD SET FOR YOU!!!!!!111111 or if you really wanted to bum people out at a party..."Oh, the humanity!"

man i miss the nineties.

1 comment:

Amanda said...

One thing regarding iguanas: I used to have a friend who had a boyfriend who had one, and it would totally crawl up on the bed and stare at them while they were having sex. Yes. Gross.

Personally, I didn't even like being in the same room with said iguana.

Oh, but also? Next week I am interviewing a client, a lady, whose first name is Iguana. I'm already all anxious about calling that out into a crowded waiting room at the top of my lungs.