July 2, 2004
On some mornings Kathy takes the dogs for a walk and then I join them after I’ve turned on the computer, retrieved the paper and had another cup of coffee. Here is a photo of that moment when the dogs realize it’s me up on the hill coming towards them and not some massive predator with a bazooka. That’s Chickenkiller Peaches in the foreground, and Buddy Boze Hatkiller in the middle distance. And that’s my new girlfriend with the Custer tattoo coming up the hill.

No, wait! Different tattoo (A full scale nude of Sigmund Freud on the left forearm). Sorry, it must be Kathy.

It was “Minnesota” Mike Melrose who suggested I take this photo and post it because, as he so subtly puts it, “I don’t think the readers of your blog have a clue what it looks like out by your house.” Which is a nice way of saying, “What a God forsaken desert you live in!” or to potential stalkers, “Hey, I know where that street is, let’s go camp out there with a high-powered rifle!”

Is it just me or does Saddam Hussein look like Gabby Hayes? I’m thinking of doing a comic book on him. Here’s a rough of the cover. What do you think?

Yesterday morning I got some daunting stats from Dan Buck who culled these out of the Philly Inquirer: “There are now 6,400 magazine titles in the U.S. and 400 new magazines were launched in 2004, so far. Feel crowded?”

Yes, indeedy. When Joe Small started this mag back in 1953 there were only about 500 titles—for the entire country!.Two years ago there were “only” 5,500 titles and everyone agreed that was way too many. Post 9•11, the conventional wisdom was that many of the weaker titles would drop by the wayside, and we’d get down to a more realistic number (say 2,500) but the opposite has happened.

What does this mean? Misery loves company. Or, God must love fools because he made so many of us.

“He who has heard the same thing told by 12,000 eye-witnesses has only 12,000 probabilities, which are equal to one strong probability, which is far from certain.”
—Voltaire