ONCE AGAIN, WE FIND OURSELVES AMIDST the glamour and excitement that is New York Fashion Week—the shows! the clothes! the parties! the celebrities! the grinding out of four to six articles per day, for eight days running, after having dosed oneself with enough Venti Soy Cappuccinos to fell a bull elephant. Or, at least, so be the evidence as found on my work desk from last Fashion Week, pictured above. Aside from the image, other extended thoughts on the matter may be found here.

Wishing you and yours a very Merry Fashion Week,

GB, HR.

A Moment of Fear &. Horror.

Early morning rush hour traffic in South Florida — complete with a 14-wheeler overturned at the median of SW-10th Street. Sigh. How I love this place. (Though not necessarily its highways.)

Palm Beach, FL—For your Memorial Day Travels, a Moment of Fear &. Horror from Gate B3 of Palm Beach International Airport, namely, my co-passengers on a flight back to New York. Please note that this photograph in no way reflects the total number of people-in-wheelchairs. Rather, it shows as many people as I could capture on my iPhone without looking like I was taking a picture.

Ft. Lauderdale, FL—A bottle of tequila with a reindeer on it. I’m not sure what’s worse, the yuletide sentiments of Cazadores Blanco, or memories of Boxing Day Hangovers past. We conducted a trial run at a friend’s house, and discovered an added bonus to this particular victual: after taking a shot, you can varnish a penny with your tongue! I suppose you know it’s quality drinking when Rudolph’s on the front.

New York, NY—Dachshund owners from the tri-state area descended upon Washington Square Park for some sort of wiener-dog day hullaballoo. In the midst of all this was a concessions stand, pictured above, where two people were selling figurines, posters, and t-shirts of the ever-lovable, phallic-shaped doggie. It took me a moment to realize that this was, indeed, a genuine Moment of Fear &. Horror. Why? Simple. The t-shirts read:

[Universal Dachshund Symbol] 4EVER

And the sign, perviously hidden by the dog’s owner:

“Help Clone Camilla”

The people operating the stand were raising money to clone their Dachshund. Despite adorable pictures of the wiener-dog-in-question floating on little clouds, the Freudian symbolism alone makes this:

A Moment of Fear &. Horror.

A professor of Near Eastern Studies once told me that the invention of writing allowed us to enter into an unnatural dialogue with the dead and the faraway. A little reed stylus drawn across a clay tablet, and before we knew it, Puzurshulgi from Uruk could trade words (and love, and war, and religion, and advice, and goats) with Ashurshdigir of Nineveh. Imagine the possibilities! In a few short years, clay begat papyrus, which begat paper, which begat the printing press, which begat books.

At the same time, in some laboratory far removed from these goings-on, fire led to steam power, which led to electricity, which led to light bulbs, which then led to a whole entanglement of power lines and underground cables and wireless signals and calling plans and Gilligan’s Island re-runs on Nick-at-Night.

And thus, we arrive at the internet. Sheesh. Where will this lead us? Surely, we’re not through with the act of begetting. Maybe Robert Coover was right. He certainly did leave an impression on me back in 2003, when Al Gore’s “Interweb” had only just begun to creep into our households. Old habits die hard, though. For instance, I’ve hand-written most of this while sitting in seat 16A of an airplane with no working A/C. Here is a picture:

Anyway, welcome. We’ll see where this leads.