Tuesday 29 December 2009

A History of American Folklore: The Hodag

1893, Rhinelander, Wisconsin. Eugene Simeon Shepard claims to have discovered the Hodag, while out hiking. It was a beast of vicious appearance and foul odour, and was promptly blown to smithereens by a hoarde of local townsmen. Three years later however, Shepard managed to capture another Hodag using stealth and chloroform, which he transported live to the Oneida County fair. Although eventually revealed as an elaborately conceived (and executed) hoax, the Hodag drew crowds from all over the country, thousands payed a relatively handsome fee to see the beast writhe and growl in a replication "den", and were not disappointed. Not only did it provide a rich talking point, but also a source of income for the town, which had been struggling desperately against the depletion of its lumber industry. As Shepard himself put it, "By no means is all the progress to be credited to the Hodag, but the Hodag did his bit! Not only hundreds but thousands of people came to view the Hodag...and not one of them went away without having learned a little more about northern Wisconsin, and it is safe to guess that each one of those thousands told others what they had seen and heard. In this way the beauties, opportunities, and resources of northern Wisconsin spread, and many who came out of curiosity only have come to make their home with us. Long Live the Hodag!"

Monday 28 December 2009


Ed Ruscha: Wall Rockets

the main man for wall-mounted mountain montages

Travelogue: America


Stowe, VT


Far from route 103,

where the road salt eats at the snow,

so a border of dead grass is revealed

along with the bodies of animals

ragged, half-rotten, almost indistinguishable

from the trash of travelling families…


and far too from the freshwater stream

wriggling its way through a field,

a white-frozen marsh, beneath the covered bridge,

where it appears briefly-

rushing silver beneath a skin of ice…


farther still from the church,

its steeple a rising stalagmite

-formed over time

by the constant, dripping will of God…


indeed, far from the guesthouses,

the gift shops and the grocery stores,

hidden in the shadows of slopes

stand the tombstones of old industry

-the butter tub and axe factories,

the gristmills, the wood-working shops,

long abandoned

by the imaginations of the local kids,

the ghosts of their father’s fathers…