Inkwell: Authors and Artists

    

moral artery bursting burrito. Why, just the other day a recent ex-
  

    
cavation of a collapsed mine produced evidence of a related sub-
  

    
trefuge involving subterranean tetrhahedonal hedonists with n-
  

    

o necks or knees, creating a f-
  

    

orce field that can't be penetrated by any pro-
  

    

fessors, no matter how many degrees they have.  Alternately, a sly sm-
  

    
egma-covered antedeluvian gentle-
  

    
hearted rodent might be able to d-
  

    

iscern right from wrong, but forget about up and down b-
  

    
oys and girls, because it's doing all of this discerning with a sore
neck in a brace, Skin Bracer commercials from 1972 are being played in
a loop on YouTube, and besides, the sun's not yellow--it's chi-
  

    
cago gangster golden.  What now?  How can we get beyond this dis-
  

    

aster and learn how to shave without sleeping or fi-
  

    
nding it boring, as the early 1970s British progressive rock group
Hatfield And The North did in one 10-minute space jam on their debut
al-
  

    
ignment stint at Space Age Wheel and Tire. 

       Jamming on tires as a day job can become as familiar and com-
  

    
mercially successful as any number of end-runs on culture in
late-empire he-
  

    
dgehog farming, using their spines to make toothbrushes and
extra-coarse san-
  

    
dals. 

   What, then, can we say about the steep decline in marginally un-
  

    
informational waterboarding to describe info overflow
  

    
ing into casks and demijohns? "Cash!" we say, "Cash for the crackers
and t-
  

    
eabags."

  Far in the grey distance, partially obscured by a thicket of unapp-
 
  

    
reciated authors whose books merit considerably more attention than the
cruel world can give them, we see a light.  We pick up our rucksacks and w-
  

    
alk away in a hurry, hoping we can pick up a ride or some horses near
A-
  

    
rtic Pie Narwhal Steak, a restaurant where mammal-hugging protesters
persist in singing. They start up with "All We Are Saying is Give Pe-
  

    
as a Chance' but half the crowd was actually singing ' Gi-
  

    
-mme Shelter" , love, Sister, is just a kiss away, is just a -