The Weasel is hungry. The Weasel is HUNGER. So the weasel is the rube, and the end. Hunger, the weasel, DESIRE is pressed into the service of the dutiful(DOG - in the name of making his duty easier - the instutionalized violence of say, the Stanford Prison Experiment - movement towards the idleness of Foghorn), and the safe/bored(entertainment in lieu of participation, thin increasing boredom of protection without actual threat, Foghorn's orbit around duty as a negation of his position as FOOD).
The dog is forced to play FOOD.
Foghorn is inevitably FOOD.
The Weasel is HUNGER.
Notes from this morning's viewing. Food remaining a very funny word.
In other news, Nancy Tousley wrote a little review in the Calgary Herald yesterday about my two shows up in Calgary right now.