It occurred to me.
I like walking around places like the bookstore. I like messing with people. I like taking pictures of stuff.
Trifecta, people. I’ve found a regular feature.
I’m thinking, once a week, I’m going to waft into my Barnes & Noble and do stuff.
And by “do stuff, ” I do not mean to imply some circa-1970’s reference to copious cocaine expenses out of the corporate petty-cash fund.
I mean “perform some kind of experiment.” Maybe talk to a few people. Ask them a question and take a microcosmic, cultural core-temp. Maybe I will plank in the middle of the floor. Maybe I will walk around and photograph books.
Maybe I will walk up to people and beg them to help me reach President Kennedy, and “advise him against going to Dallas” right near the “Paranormal” book section.
By the way, a lady watched me take a picture of that Satanic Bible. I looked at her and said, “They grow up so fast.”
Anyway. Barnes & Noble will become part of this blog’s mosaic. I’m going to use it as my own personal canvas. Maybe I will perform freudian subterfuges, Pavlovlian ruses, utilizing Euclidian precision with an almost obscene amount of Sophoclean dramatic flourish.
Or, I might just be weird.
Occasionally,I might even broach a serious subject.
NO–not politics. Well, I will at least try to keep politics out of it. But you never know when someone there’s going to hit you across the face pachouli-laced,essential oils molotov cocktail for asking too many questions.