Tech suppport

Josh has expressed his disappointment at his inability to come to terms with his observation that, though I generally take care to protect the anonymity of almost everybody on this blog by assigning them a pseudonym, yet I have not done so with him.

And so I will soon encrypt his name. I suppose I'll have to change his name everywhere it appears here with a blogger search and destroy mission.

Here are the leading contenders for his new name:

1. Map Quest, or 'MQ'. He doesn't like this one.
2. Fishsticks. No abbreviation, just 'Fishsticks'. He doesn't know about this one yet.
3. Bryant Evans. The only name I have his explicit verbal consent to use, although he did say he'd be okay with anything, as long as it wasn't Map Quest, so things are wide open.
4. It should be said that he's twice brought up the idea of me using a number to represent him, so.

Maybe '6'...

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We've been to the Van Gogh Museum this afternoon. The Potato Eaters was supposed to be Vincent's grim I Want to Hold Your Hand, but it didn't work out that way.

For starters he didn't have a Brian Epstein. And plus it's more like I Think I Might Want to Hold Your Hand But Everything Is So Utterly Depressing and Really and Truly Miserable and Besides I Can Barely Even See Your Hand It's So Goddamn Dark in Here So Maybe Let's Just Forget I Even Mentioned It. Oh, And Please Pass The Potatoes. Yeah, the Beatles were more, um, fun than early Van Gogh.

But you have to love him because his faults are all there, his whole process, not being covered up at all, like Syd Barrett on canvas.

Josh is right now with me in the hotel room improvising a story about me being in an insane asylum and him and some other people we know from where we grew up around Boston all coming to visit me. This event is prophesied to take place two years in the future. I have no idea why.