no.62 - The Dentalcaballi

I don't subscribe to conspiracy theories. I suppose this attitude is a great delight to the world's conspirators. However, I do think something lousy is afoot with the dentists of the world.

They claim I need my teeth removed. Not all of of my teeth, as my Grandfather once advocated. (He felt false teeth were far easier to care for.) Dentists just want the wisdom teeth.

Odds are excellent that you've had yours removed, with a song and a dance about how they are extraneous; practically vestigial, and that your mouth needs more space for teeth with proper jobs.

When I was told these things by my dentist, I might have believed in his fable, were it not for the fact that I've already had four teeth pulled! I have eight extra teeth? Really?

When I made this comment to my dentist, he looked in my mouth, counted my teeth and said, "Huh. Well, it's just a suggestion."

Something is wrong with this scene. I liked my dentist. What would make him make such a suggestion?

Surely a man who can be trusted to put his hands in my mouth would never make such a brutal suggestion just to hasten the comfort of his retirement. Right?

no.61 - The Arrogant Brain

When I read in a science book that the human brain is the most amazing organ, I have to laugh. It is, after all, the brain which came up with this idea.

If the human heart could speak I imagine it would take exception to the self-aggrandizing brain, who usually condescends to allow that the heart is an extraordinary muscle, as if it really is no more than a blood pushing bicep.

The lungs might quibble about what is most important. The liver and kidneys might also make arguments. For the male of the human species I am certain the penis would have a great deal to say about who is the most incredible organ.

And then there are the fingers, not really an organ, but who with their extraordinary dexterity and admirable ability to coordinate are able to bang on the keys and create blog entries, sometimes seemingly without the aid of the brain at all.

no.60 - The Flickr Thief

I received a normal sounding request today to join a closed group I run at flickr for baby & maternity photographers.

When I checked hornsman1987's page I found a great portfolio of maternity portraits. Great because he had stolen everything, including some of my work — with my copyright information still watermarked across the bottom.

In response to his request, I declined him access, attaching the following message:

"Most, if not all, the photographs in your stream are stolen, including a few of my own.

You will not be gaining access to the group. You are, in fact, exactly the sort of person we strive to keep away. (Actually, you are a bit worse because you are not only a fetishist, but also a liar, a thief, and a momma's boy.)

Please note that we will be further tightening controls on who is allowed to view this group to ensure that when you scurry out of your dark hole again, you fail as you have today, and as I suspect you have in most of your life.

I would like to suggest you seek help with your mental health issues. Your behavior is abnormal and the combination of your selfishness and fetish-ness are surely a detriment to you and to those around you.

If you can, try to remember that the women in the photographs you have stolen are people, very much like your mother, with the notable exception that they all, no doubt, do a better job of parenting."

Like most flickr creeps (see demon no.5) , hornsman1987 could not be bothered to create a face for his identity, even though he clearly has gone to some lengths these last few months to steal other people's work to post for his own deviant pleasure.

It does not surprise me that some unpleasant souls choose to steal the work of others to pass off as their own. What surprises and, frankly, disappoints me is the sheer ineptness of the attempts. For example, nearly every pervert who has posed as a photographer with an interest in maternity portraits has been unable to contain his horny need to also be a member of the groups "Pregnant Booty Lovers" and "Pregnant pornpics." (As usual, I wish I were making this up.)

There is something grotesque about their awkward fumbling attempts to mimic the behavior of human beings. It is like watching hungry slack-jawed aliens in a film stumble about in search of humans to befriend and then eat.

I invite you to visit "hornsman1987" and, if you are so inclined, to see for yourself. Expect, however, that he may already be gone by the time you arrive - burrowing back into the depths of his sleaze covered home-world.

no.59 - The Glasshole

Last night, after pounding on my car window for ten minutes with his elbow, the moron who was trying to beat his way into my car finally realized a rock would be a more effective tool to break glass. It is probable that a chimp would have solved this puzzle more efficiently, but I doubt a chimpanzee would have bothered. It wouldn't take much to figure out my 1995 Saturn station wagon is not a repository for valuables.

What did he want? It's hard to know for sure, but what he took was a slightly used roll of quarters. I keep a supply in the car because the meter maids are so aggressive around here. (In fact, my least favorite meter maid told me it was my responsibility to have quarters on me at all times.)

It turns out that a roll of quarters is just enough for a hit of smack, though I would be willing to bet this dude's dealer would have been irritated to be paid with a fistful of quarters and glass shards. I also have serious doubts that the guy was capable of counting out change so I'm not sure how the transaction was going to go down.

But he didn't make it to his dealer. The genius (whose name the police won't release, and, really who can blame them?) jogged in a slow straight line down a busy street that made him bizarrely easy to catch. An officer drove me up the street to identify him and, up until this point, I wasn't really angry, just annoyed and a little sad that basically everyone loses in this scenario he created.

Then, the punk gave me the "What are you looking at" stare. Really? Thanks dude-who-smashed-my-car-window, now I can enjoy watching them handcuff you.

My one concern was that I was only 75% sure this was him. What if some other punky, white, scruddy looking twenty-something happened to be jogging up the street in a bright blue T-shirt, with a tan hat and tan shorts. Fortunately, the $8.25 in quarters they turned up from his jingling pocket reassured me that this was my moron.

I was thinking until this morning about what a waste of everyone's time this was. But as it turns out there are two good things to come from it.

First, my car is already fixed, and the remarkably efficient and polite glass company even vacuumed my car which means - vacuumed car! Second, while this particular gentleman seems to be behind the evolutionary curve by a hundred thousand years, he did learn to use stone tools, so at least it was a learning experience.