(no subject)

Walking through the snow the other night, all along mayfield, it's been the same snow for months now, it's been cold.  We're talking about art & art ideas & movements and then also personae, identity, thoughts concerning that.  I tell her the story of how I started to call myself Kingtycoon, and how one day I wrote this manifesto & spent my last few bucks printing off copies to hand out and denounce reality at strangers.  All of which are true things that once happened.

She gets excited & a little mind blown, something has changed & I'm about to be thrilled to have transmitted the gnosis.  "You know dad, I thought you called yourself that because of Zoo Tycoon."  And I laugh and laugh.  It's still pretty funny.

We've had a good set of weekends to correspond to a bad set of weeks.  In a moment our group here at work is meant to have a  department-wide lunch.  The second banana honcho tells me she's planning to bring up flagging morale- which is a balsy move.  I wonder if she will.  She's not wrong, it's been really ugly around here for a while.  Quit without a backup job ugly.  

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