They're saying now that triceratops never existed, that it was a juvenile form of another dinosaur. Personally, I think scientists are just trolling us. They know triceratops is a staple dinosaur, they're trying to fuck with all of us. It's like I said to Amee at an ancient Greek archaeological exhibit yesterday--the main reason everyone insists on using the name "Heracles", whether they admit it to themselves or not, is that they know everyone knows him as "Hercules" now. The least they could've done is added a note to the descriptions, "Heracles, known to the Romans and modern culture as Hercules." Let the people participate.
The Greek exhibit was in the same museum as the Toulouse-Lautrec exhibit, which was really amazing. I'm always surprised by how many Lautrec paintings I don't normally see on Google image searches.
Lautrec had such a great mind for implying attitude. Not necessarily motion, but things like a guy's gut sagging over pants or the curving side of a slouching woman seem to say something about the basic nature of humanity and what it is regardless of what it tries to be, this lazy, beautiful thing.
My family and Amee and I had lunch at a nearby cafe that used paper placemats. Crayons in buckets in the table centrepieces encouraged defacing the tablecloth. Here's Amee's;
And here's mine;
I always seem to default to weird anatomy when doodling. I call this one "Bad Back".
I've had a couple strange, gruesome dreams over the past couple nights. Last night it was like I had first person perspective in a side-scroller game, and I saw arranged in a row the landmarks of a grey, post-apocalyptic wasteland. Burning trucks and cars lay dormant, and on some of the larger ones the corpses of giants were draped, many of them with bloody messages carved in their backs. I don't remember what most of them said, except one of them had something to do with the SS.
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