The Museum of Jurassic Technology is a museum of things. What connection any of these things has to any other thing in the museum is impossible to determine. It is a museum of things that have nothing to do with the other things in the museum. You go to the space museum, you think, "Space Shuttle... Stars... Moon rocks... yes, a place for everything- everything in it's place". In the MoJT you think "Tiny priest on head of a pin... mouse on toast.... advice on writing letters to bees... WHAT IS HAPPENING".
Taxidermied fox head. Inside the fox's head was a holographic video of a portly gentleman in elastic waisted blue jeans, who was making fox noises.
Device for telling the future.
Something.
Something else.
Dog thimble found in trailer park.
Out-of-focus deer
Dice that failed.
Mouse on toast. (It is worth noting here that this is Museum is quite humourless)
It is also important to mention at this point that the place was decorated like a funeral home. It was also very dark. We walked up these creepy stairs and into a David Lynch movie. A man (we couldn't decide whether he was real or made of wax) was sitting alone in a room full of pastel portraits of dogs who went into space. He sat unmoving while we stared at him for quite a long time. He had this look of intense delight on his waxy face, mouth open in a frozen smile, eyes wide, completely still. We both freaked out so hard we backed out of the room and fled down stairs, until we decided we had to know what was going on, so we crept back up only to find the room empty.
The Museum of Jurassic Technology is like a weird cult's museum proving their religion to be true, only at the end there IS no cult, and you've just seen a bunch of things proving something but you don't know what. We felt like aliens from another planet looking at Earth things with little or no explanation as to what we were seeing and what it did. Or, for my younger audience, we felt like that bit where The Little Mermaid is brushing her hair with a fork. I bought a copy of Flatland on the way out. I could have bought a taxidermied Sloth.
Eager to continue the weird, we took the bus to Venice Beach.
WEED.
That pretty much sums up Venice Beach. The air was full of weed smell, people selling weed, some guy rolling a joint on his dinner plate at a restaurant. I saw more rampant weed smoking here than I did in Amsterdam. I also saw a bum who'd let you kick him for a dollar.
Then we went to the freak show, which was the same as outside, but with less weed.
EL CHUPACABRA! (Also, Bigfoot).
Various Sea Horrors
Fiji Mermaid!!!
The smokey streets of Venice
There are a lot of muscly men in DT's hanging around there. Also, orange women with fake breasts, and hobos. I saw one sleeping and my immediate reaction was "10 points if you ollie a bum!". Damn you, Tony Hawk!!!
Anyway, I'm off for some mice on toast. Shout out to my Mum on Mothers Day.
L8trZ
Brooke
I had the same reaction when I saw hobos in Venice Beach!
ReplyDeleteAlso: Get ready for some hardcore 19th Century sexism that is beheld in Flatland. If it wasn't so serious, it would be hilarious.
...Who am I kidding?
Hey! remember Ted Hawkins? He was a Venice Beach hobo who finally was recognized for his singing talent and abruptly died. He probable would have been recognized sooner if he wore a pair of DTs.
ReplyDeleteNow you know where the saying ...Only in America...came from.