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Friday August 19, 2005
Scala naturae
Let’s be honest: August is not the only month of the year when Miami is too hot for words—by our count, it’s March through October. Still, there’s something special about August; it’s the time when Miami residents hunker down for what we assume must be the hottest hell on earth. Actually, we’re cowering in our air-conditioned homes and cars (Cohen has a theory about how genocide and air conditioning are mutually exclusive propositions), but boy, outside . . .
Outside, though, is real life: there is nothing more alive then when the planet Earth’s tropics get cooking. Weird plants that wouldn’t survive anywhere else grow like crazy, it rains every day, and mosquitos multiply in any teaspoon of standing water. The whole place is teeming with life, and it’s very impressive, and a little gross. That’s if you think about it, which most of us don’t. But some of us do. Frances, the crab girl has recently marveled at all the spiders in her back yard. They remind her of masks and skulls (Frances was last spotted break-dancing on the Metro-Mover with some dread guys).
Kathleen’s parents have a pool with a broken pump, and she’s fascinated with what happens when we let a controlled bit of lake go wild. Incidentally, this is the same Kathleen that occasionally gives the painter dudes on Artblog.net a run for their argumentative money. Her new blog looks great so far.
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outside would be more approachable, if it was air conditioned, fuck life and plants and shit, you fuking tree huger
i am at two with nature…
I take Kathleen seriously, but mostly as a provider of talking points that I can conveniently assassinate. Her blog does look good. At least she’s not reusing background tiles from GlassTire.
I did that just to see if you’d notice, Franklin!