My New Nude Posture Photo Guide

A week of work after not working much for two is a terrible thing.  And at the end of it, of course, one must certainly be wiped out.  So why, I ask myself, have I made so many demanding plans for the weekend?  It is the Holiday Season, I know, for last night the giant Christmas tree was lit on the Boulevard of my own home town.  The park was filled with giant Tiffany Glass windows displayed in twelve foot high wooden cases (guarded, of course, by the city's finest) while the Bach Chorus sang songs of the seasons.  The street was blocked off so that children could run about marveling at the lit up hamlet without fear.  And just across the park, the temporary ice skating rink was in full use.  All of this is followed up this morning by the annual Christmas Parade with Santy Clause bringing up the rear.

And today should be spent buying Holiday cards and getting them out in the mail.  And I need to buy presents for the people I supervise at the factory, for we are having a Holiday party next week.  Little things, but what?  It will take some planning.  And I have desires to make some of my own cards with my own work for some of my friends who know my work, little tokens, but that is iffy.  And my mother's birthday is next week, and that will take some prep.  I will get her a Kindle, I think, one of the new good ones, and for Christmas I must arrange to have all the premium channels added to her cable package and have them paid for, and hook up a DVR (am I not the good son?) so that she will never need to watch a commercial again.

The parade will start in just a bit.  The air is crisp and the sky a robin's egg blue.  I think I can hear the preparations now.

So why oh why have I agreed to shoot TWICE today, once this afternoon (while the air is crisp and bright and clean) and once tonight?  It is like heroin.  I haven't shot for so terribly long.  Now, however . . . I just want to play holiday.

But I think I have my next project!  At least I was excited by this when I read the news this morning.  Rather, I read this which lead me to the other.

I am awed by the project and disgusted that they have destroyed so many obviously wonderful photographs.  Especially since the government is continuing the project to this very day, though not for any "scientific" purposes.  It is just what happens now when you travel.

Here are a couple of body scan images that airport security are able to get when they need to.  I'm sure these highly trained security personnel recognize body types without falling into the old "endo, ecto, and mesomorph" labels.  No eugenics here.  Just public safety.

And you know my motto has always been, "Safety First!"  And so it will be with great solemnity that I undertake to photograph all of America with pins attached to their spines and calipers on their craniums.  No, this will not be about eugenics or phrenology.  It will be pure prurient, provocational titillation.  But no one shall get injured in the process, I promise.  There will be the proper release forms, nonetheless, for as I say, "Safety First."

I can't wait to get started.

And there is so much more to write about.  The news is chock full.  I was shocked to learn that George McGovern was still alive.  Really?  Why haven't we heard from him in our time of despair and need?  And a U.N. envoy reports that the police crackdown on Occupy protesters violates human rights (I think my blog might be having some influence).  And BIG news--I can win a date with Scarlet Johansen on the Red Carpet for the premiere of her newest film (if I pony up $5,000 for the chance).  Maybe I should start with famous people for my new project.

But here is the winner.  It comes from The Huffington Post.  The headline above this picture reads, "The Difference Between American and European Women."

I didn't bother reading the story.  The picture tells me all I need to know.

I need to get going if I'm going to find the right kind of needles for my project.  And I will have to study up a bit about placement. But I'm excited.

Where's my camera?