Fort Lauderdale
The Journal of Florida Artist Rupert W. Miles
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
It is believed that the same hurricane that killed the five hundred men on the Flagler System oversea railroad project in 1926 also killed as many as two thousand migrant farm workers, cane cutters, in the sugarcane fields of South Florida. All the mother fucking rain had caused a hellish flood that submerged the entire region during the night. The identities and exact number of victims from the flood were never known because many of them were foreign, Haitians and Dominicans mostly, and they were all dirt poor. Around here at least, if you’re dirt poor, nobody gives a fuck what happens to you, especially during the night. (p. 143)
Under ‘Shipwrecks’ for $800, it’s the term used today by treasure hunters to suddenly own things that they do not currently own. What is ‘salvage?’
Grasshopper! Good boy! I’m so proud of you! Here’s more on that...just to round you out.
The Virgin and I were not actually rescued by the US Coast Guard exactly. We were instead, rescued by two men in a little 16-foot metal launch called the Vulture #3. Those two men worked for a company called Rick’s Ready Salvage.
Now, as explained before so many times, Republicans have ways about them that cannot be readily understood at first glance. This is one of those times.
In Florida, and indeed internationally as well, if you crash your yacht, or sink it, or abandon it, or wreck it, or otherwise totally fuck it up, as was the case with the Perseverance Pays Off, anyone with a big sticker can come and find your yacht, stick their big sticker on it, and they then own your yacht forevermore. They have, from that very moment, ‘salvaged’ your yacht. You’re just fucked.
Formats
Book Details
About the Book
A “must read” for art historians. Clear testament to the strange paradox that genius need not necessarily be hindered by madness.
Fort Lauderdale, The Journal of Florida Artist Rupert W. Miles is a “found diary” by the late Rupert W. Miles, who died in 1990. He was a locally popular modernist painter, but recognition on a national or even a regional scale eluded him.
The journal is edited and includes a foreword by Man Morrow to explain just what it is. And indeed, what it is, is a perfectly bizarre story the likes of which we haven’t seen for a very long time. It is adult and highly erotic at times. Other times it is slapstick funny. Throughout, it is an adventure story of the first order. It includes several photos of Miles’ artwork.
About the Author
Man Morrow lives in