Goofy and mismatched, these numbers look like vaudeville by way of the industrial revolution. I always wonder about the mischievous culprit behind these oddities. Was it truly all there was, or is there some grand design behind it all?
Grad school snapshot: this one from R.G. Collingwood's The Idea of History, one of my books to read for the week for the architecture seminar I'm taking called The Aesthetics of Decay. I've been busy reading a couple books a week, teaching two classes, grading papers, writing my thesis, polishing my novel, and looking up words like "aporetic." You can see why I've taken up ice hockey.
Thanks to what seems to be a customary lackadaisical attitude toward punctuation on local signs, it's unclear if this warning is telling me to beware of dogs or if it's telling the dogs to beware. Or perhaps it is announcing an interesting new type of dog: the beware dogs. Whatever the case may be, I'm glad it has at least committed to the notion of dog and not the more mysterious "dog," as has been woefully suggested elsewhere. You've got to start somewhere, right?
And this maple-leafed culprit, which I discovered this summer in Montréal, may in fact be the reason I launched another year of &7. Because otherwise, what else does one do with a cool 305?
