Oh, how I suffer for my art. And for you! My index finger is getting the over-mousing pain, which makes sense; I have been mousing with heedless abandon. Pain is a small price to pay for completely finishing the site on 1960s restaurant interiors!

But . . . that’s really not an interesting picture there

That’s why it’s interesting! It sums up everything!

Yeah but who cares

There must be a repository of these things! It’s like a visual version of the seed bank that contains all the critical plants!

Except it isn’t in the least bit

Okay, point taken. Lest you wonder, yes: there are some pictures so dull I think the bliss of oblivion is a blessing.

On the other hand, sometimes . . . there’s art. Sometimes, there’s a modern Hopper, starring Agent Cooper.

So much depends on an orange pitcher, sitting on the edge of an empty table.

So how was your week? Mine was ALL OVER THE ROAD but good. I went to the office on Thursday, and saw something new and quite alarming. Usually I love new tech. This one made me want to get the villagers and the pitchforks. You'll see it next week. Aside from that, well, lots of yakking and typing and that's my job and life. Good for me.

And now, for October . . .

We can't do Halloween without looking at all the cliches that remake our familiar products.

His shadow reveals horns, because he's really an evil spirit whose hands can split flesh.

He wants you to buy these brands of chocolate, the very substance that constitutes his essence, so he can revel in their damnantion.

Of all the needless pumpkinifications, this might be the most unnecessary.

Tying to make dogs love the dreaded ding-dong door day just strikes me as foolish and misguided.

Huzzah: the glass is going up on the Nicollet side. That's what's new this week.

The weekly sweep:

The new canyon on Hennepin:

The glass on the RBC looks bluish in this picture, which is good; it's blue on the renderings. But it looks plain unless the light hits it just right.

Weekly look at the Larking:

Finally: they've completed the renovations of the patio area of the 333.

It's an outdoor bar. The other day they had some seats around the bar, as if there were customers.

As if there's anyone around.


The neighborhood glue grocery:

Solution is here.





Another Dragnet pretender. Authentic tales, taken right from the casebooks, only names places changed, all true except for the parts we made up, which is everything between the opening theme and the last commercial.

I don't know why they were almost working on the railroad.




The discordant intro to each act.



It wasn't the greatest thing ever conceived, but it was sturdy and didn't wallow in cliches that bogged down crime shows or westerns.


Have you heard him? I guar-an-tee you have.


Wiki: Thomas Grady Martin (January 17, 1929 – December 3, 2001) was an American session guitarist in country music and rockabilly.
A member of The Nashville A-Team, he played guitar on hits such as Marty Robbins' "El Paso."



Martin is credited with accidentally stumbling onto the electric guitar "fuzz" effect during a recording session with Robbins; his guitar was run through a faulty channel in a mixing console, generating the fuzz sound on "Don't Worry".

The full entry is here.





Reinforcing the connection between Kellogg's Corn Flakes and the Beverly Hillbillies.

Hope you enjoyed your visits this week; if not, refunds cheerfully given at that window over there. If you have the receipt.




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