Embracing the Smile That Is This Moment
I am Blue
I collect one off books, unpublished manuscripts,
diaries, private journals, and the like (inclusive of reproductive
rights, as a sort of investment). Believe it or not, they have
conventions for this sort of thing. And at said conventions (like
at most every other convention), there is always some dealer with a bargain bin. You know,
a shelf full of books that can be had for a quarter each or five for a
dollar. And being cheap by nature, I go through those shelves
book by book. You never know what hidden gem you're going to
find. Well, this was one of those. I paid $5 for the lot of
these: a dozen palm-sized leather bound beauties carefully filled with
the private musings of one Ian Black -- a philosopher of sorts who
considered himself a Buddhist from what I gather. Anyhow, a set
like this would typically have gone for quite a bit more ($20, $50,
$100, or perhaps even a $1,000 for the lot, the leather tomes
really are nice), but that would be if a one -- I am Blue -- hadn't got
to the manuscripts first and thoroughly defaced every last single page.
He destroyed my life's work.
And I'd do it again, too. See.
Which is to say, the entire endeavor is a bit heretical. And in truth, it's doubtful this sort
of punch/counterpunch is for everyone, but it's definitely for me, and
in that I can't be alone. Anyhow, I figure there are something
along the magnitude of a thousand entries -- and amongst those, there
are certainly a hundred choice ones (probably a lot more) that could be
edited together into one of those throw-away feel-good Christmas time
gift books that folks seem to be gobbling up at $24.99 a pop. So,
long story short, if you know how to monetize this, I'm looking to cash
out. Make me an offer.