Everything
Is arbitrary
A blue sock
Is arbitrary
A blue sock
Wednesday, 29 December 2010
Monday, 27 December 2010
Sunday, 26 December 2010
Chevy Chase
He got his own face tattooed on his face.
The likeness was incredible - you could have sworn you were looking at the real thing.
People commented on it all the time.
"You'd never know he'd had it done" they'd say. "It must have cost him an arm and leg to get someone that good," they'd go.
It really was uncanny. The only problem he had was that it was just one face - a picture not versatile the real thing. He had decided to have his face tattooed whilst smiling and as the years passed he felt it was the right decision. Whilst the skin and muscles under his face would contort as he laughed or frowned or thought or gurned his face would continue to show the portrait of a smiling man.
"Always show the world your best face!" he'd laugh.
As he aged his body withered and sagged but his face stayed exactly the same as the day he'd had the ink put in.
"He doesn't look a day over 25!" they would say in wonder at the nursing home.
He tried to use his youthful looks to attract younger women but was always dissapointed when they ran from his aged body.
"A real freak show down there" they would say to each other and laugh.
This hurt him deeply for he was a sensitive man, but people mistook his tears for tears of joy and why wouldn't they when he was smiling so?
As he reaches his final days, he came to the conclusion his folly was in not getting his body tattooed onto his body.
He whiles away his days cursing the naivety of his youth, smiling always as he does.
The likeness was incredible - you could have sworn you were looking at the real thing.
People commented on it all the time.
"You'd never know he'd had it done" they'd say. "It must have cost him an arm and leg to get someone that good," they'd go.
It really was uncanny. The only problem he had was that it was just one face - a picture not versatile the real thing. He had decided to have his face tattooed whilst smiling and as the years passed he felt it was the right decision. Whilst the skin and muscles under his face would contort as he laughed or frowned or thought or gurned his face would continue to show the portrait of a smiling man.
"Always show the world your best face!" he'd laugh.
As he aged his body withered and sagged but his face stayed exactly the same as the day he'd had the ink put in.
"He doesn't look a day over 25!" they would say in wonder at the nursing home.
He tried to use his youthful looks to attract younger women but was always dissapointed when they ran from his aged body.
"A real freak show down there" they would say to each other and laugh.
This hurt him deeply for he was a sensitive man, but people mistook his tears for tears of joy and why wouldn't they when he was smiling so?
As he reaches his final days, he came to the conclusion his folly was in not getting his body tattooed onto his body.
He whiles away his days cursing the naivety of his youth, smiling always as he does.
Friday, 24 December 2010
Koan
"Consciousness is illusory"
he said, sitting crossed legged on the floor.
"Reality is but a dream," he continued.
He smiled beatifically at me.
I smiled back,
"If that's true it wouldn't matter if you shot yourself right now"
He thought for a second and responded;
"I suppose not."
and then putting a gun to his head he did just that.
I'm still not sure who won.
he said, sitting crossed legged on the floor.
"Reality is but a dream," he continued.
He smiled beatifically at me.
I smiled back,
"If that's true it wouldn't matter if you shot yourself right now"
He thought for a second and responded;
"I suppose not."
and then putting a gun to his head he did just that.
I'm still not sure who won.
Wednesday, 22 December 2010
Poor Vincent
All suicides come back. They're the only ones that do.
I'll point you to the case of Vincent - poor sweet Vincent, so cruel for him to come like he did. Having to see the work of his former self hanging in the galleries; to see it s brilliance lauded in the newspapers and in magazines.
He didn't understand it at all - someone was speaking with a voice that was his own but he had never uttered a word. The whole wide world crying out the genius of this work, so close to his own heart.
No matter how hard he tried to shut it all out, the paintings, with their swirls and their colours, would never leave his mind. He would shut his eyes and see them all. The sunflowers, the chairs, the crows in the night sky - all of them with crystal clarity in his head.
Vincent needed to express himself. His body screamed for him to do it. But Vincent would never paint; what would be the point? Someone else had said it all before. What a waste.
So Vincent sat and waited for something, anything to help him out but there was no use. He needed to paint but he was redundant. So he sat and waited some more.
Until he couldn't bear it anymore.
And, of course, there was no redemption, just another new beginning.
I'll point you to the case of Vincent - poor sweet Vincent, so cruel for him to come like he did. Having to see the work of his former self hanging in the galleries; to see it s brilliance lauded in the newspapers and in magazines.
He didn't understand it at all - someone was speaking with a voice that was his own but he had never uttered a word. The whole wide world crying out the genius of this work, so close to his own heart.
No matter how hard he tried to shut it all out, the paintings, with their swirls and their colours, would never leave his mind. He would shut his eyes and see them all. The sunflowers, the chairs, the crows in the night sky - all of them with crystal clarity in his head.
Vincent needed to express himself. His body screamed for him to do it. But Vincent would never paint; what would be the point? Someone else had said it all before. What a waste.
So Vincent sat and waited for something, anything to help him out but there was no use. He needed to paint but he was redundant. So he sat and waited some more.
Until he couldn't bear it anymore.
And, of course, there was no redemption, just another new beginning.
Thursday, 2 December 2010
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