Jim Richardson (aka Lake Superior Aquaman) Posts

The Cartoon History of Hunter S. Thompson

My complete 13-part comic strip originally published in Duluth’s The Transistor circa 2008. Much information from E. Jean Carroll’s book, “Hunter: The Strange and Savage Life of Hunter S. Thompson”. In addition to ripping off Frank Miller, I copied several panels from X-Men comics, and some Hunter photos.

Things I saw on Park Point

I woke up this morning and said to myself, “I’m going to Park Point to take pictures of mushrooms in sunbeams,” and indeed I did (some sunbeams not included). Along the way I saw many strange and wondrous things, it was like The Odyssey. Pics below the fold:

Bob Dylan’s Last Hit

“Bob Dylan got away with murder.” —John Lennon

October 1960. Nineteen-year-old Bob Dylan takes the bus from Minneapolis to Duluth under a cloudless sun. With a head full of songs, he steps off the Greyhound carrying a backpack and two guitar cases. One case has a sticker saying “Ten O’clock Scholar Coffeehouse.” The other has blue words painted on it, “the Tombstone Blues.” A cab drops him at the Kozy, a desolate shithole even then. He rents a room. Placing the backpack and Ten O’clock Scholar on the bed, he leaves with the Tombstone Blues.

Bob walks a few blocks to his childhood home in the faded warmth of dim memories. Then he heads toward the Owls Club. He tries not to look at St. Mary’s Hospital, where he was born, as if he holds a grudge. Entering the club he walks past the bar to the pool room. Cigar smoke fills the air. He is greeted by the Scaletta family: Louie the King, Frankie Mineshaft, Mack the Finger, and Sammy Gaspipe. Several other made men and tough guys haunt the shadows. The King shakes his hand. “Good to see you, Bobby. After this, your debt is paid. But it’s too bad we gotta lose you. Sure we can’t convince you…?” Bob feels the menace of the question but he knows the King respects him — and maybe even fears him a little bit. “No thanks Louie, I got something else in mind for myself.” “Well I tell ya kid, it’s been a pleasure to watch you work.”

Successful transplanting of phallus impudicus


 

I successfully transplanted these phallus impudicus (“impudent phallus,” aka the common stinkhorn) from one end of town to another in my diabolical plan to expand the range of this deLIGHTful species.

Occultists Deny “Glensheen Denies Occult Rituals” Story

Glensheen Mansion still has not denied the story of their denial, which if you think about it, confirms its veracity. Meanwhile the occult community has found the story — perhaps through a crystal ball! — and for the most part, they ain’t havin’ it. Four examples:

Meryl Streep: HACK

THIS IS A JOKE WE ACTUALLY LOVE MERYL STREEP. One night I dreamed my step-brother Martin in Kansas City called Meryl Streep a hack. When I told him about it, we both thought it was so funny, and cracked jokes about it for days. The result is this probably misguided video making fun of Meryl Streep WHOM WE ADORE

On patrol: Boat propeller blades

While on patrol I found these two big iron flower petal things not too far offshore, wedged among the rocks. They were about 50 feet from each other in around ten feet of water. I think they may be blades from a large boat propeller. Yes I wore a shark fin for this patrol — a couple years ago I encountered a three-foot muskie in this area, and felt it best I should shark up.

Glensheen Denies Occult Rituals of Disgraced Congdon Nephew

Last year the Minnesota historian Peter S. Svenson wrote an unpublished monograph, “The Forgotten Duluth Painter, Edward Alexander Congdon.” Svenson gave me the following information in an interview conducted on Halloween as luck would have it.

Edward Alexander (a nephew of Chester Congdon) lived at Glensheen, the historic Congdon estate. He hid slightly pointy ears with clever hair styling. But, enlisting in the armed forces to fight World War I, he suffered a military haircut. At Belleau Wood a German flame-thrower splashed liquid fire into his trench, and he escaped with his life unlike some of his fellows. But much of the skin had been burned off the top of his head, including his right ear and his eyebrows. Once healed, hair grew toward the back of his head, and the scar tissue of the high forehead became less noticeable with time. However, his eyebrows remained white scars, and the right ear had burned off down to the hole. Aleister Crowley said, “The effect of that, with his one remaining devil’s-ear, was striking.”

Edward Alexander remained overseas for a time after the war. He wandered the world using his unsettling appearance as currency in mediumistic parlors and spiritualist circles. He joined the Ordo Templi Orientis in England, and enjoyed esotericists he met in France. Then he joined the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, mingling with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and W.B. Yeats. He painted, climbed the Eiger, and had lucid dreams of the dead. Returning stateside in 1923, he lived in the Glensheen attic, “like a bat,” Mrs. Congdon used to say.

Chester Creek Landscapes

 

Lake Superior Aquaman on patrol

Duluth MN circa 15 feet deep: All clear

A crabapple floating down Tischer Creek toward Lake Superior

Lake Superior Sea Monster: Three Fatal Encounters

Mouth of the Presque Isle River, Sept. 9, 1987

The cute falls and river here empty into Lake Superior like so many sites along the South Shore: sandy beach, smooth stones, jumbles of fallen half-drowned trees. Depth off shore reaches thirty feet with a sand lake floor that quickly turns to a rock shelf plunging 200 feet straight down.

Statement of first responder on presumed drowning death of Matthew Bruin, 19: “This is not the first drowning victim of the Presque Isle River. It’s important to remember while splashing around in this shallow area by the mouth, that the seabed quickly descends to a couple hundred feet. The warm river water flows over top of the colder lake water, making a conveyor belt to the deep. As the river water cools and sinks, it pulls people down. Sadly I think the victim’s body will never be recovered. People say, ‘It’s the Presque Isle monster’ or ‘it’s a sea serpent,’ but it is the lake itself, an impersonal force of nature that does not care if we live or die.”

Victim’s friend and witness, J.R. Sandvik: “I’m telling you he was pulled under by a large animal … I miss him … I miss you buddy.”

SubSuperior: Day 1


 

Beta-test/proof of concept/first annual; video to come. Making music underwater and projecting it on land with hydrophones.

Lake Superior Aquaman: Tried helping this fish but it wanted to die

Tischer Creek: I saw this dying 7-inch fish under a foot of water or so, seemingly pinned to a rock by a stick. I moved the stick so it could swim away if it wanted, but it did not want to; I only interrupted the dignity of its final breaths. So I left it to die in peace.

Lake Superior Aquaman: I just went to Wisconsin for a second

The other day was so warm I didn’t wear a wetsuit, just my Golden Age costume. Didn’t even wear my flippers because I felt natural. I was at the Duluth rock beach called The Ledges — you can see Richardson Island from there. Standing at a sheer drop, in one-foot-deep water, within a step you plunge in @7-8 feet deep. From there, a casual swim to 12-15? I vaguely fear the sight of large fish. Happens sometimes/nothing there this time but the boulders. Loons and mergansers hunt here though. When I came up after a minute my friend Stephen Bockbock said, “I was getting worried about you,” and I said, “I just went to Wisconsin for a second.” Someone said, “Rock.”

Do NOT follow this link or you will be banned from the site!