"All the Hues
That Fit, We Tint"

Siberia, USA: Today, global warming. Tonight, dark, unless you count the stars. Tomorrow can be reached via time machine. Yesterday, who can remember that far back?

Websafe Studio, blogging since 2003, featuring art, comics, digital whiteboards, virtual characters, Web design, writing

Saturday, August 19, 2006

 

The Mirror: A Psycho, Analyzed

Websafe: Hello?
The Mirror: In the center of the fruit was a pit, and the pit was the radio in the center of the fruit.
W: Someone made a peachpit radio?
M: Do you get kooky when you get tired?
W: We all go into an altered state.
M: This is especially designed to provoke me.
W: Exhaustion is most provoking, one can get snappish.
M: And I imagine a ray of energy, traveling through the stone and emerging from the stone to fly over the whole city.
W: Is this a death ray (I hope not)?
M: Lusting for the confrontation with opaque, impenetrable objects.
W: Uh-oh, it sounds like a neutron bomb!
M: I shall speak in such a way that nothing is affected.
W: Carefully, on tiptoes, going down the mineshaft.
M: I don't expect your verification.
W: Believe me, I believe you.
M: I have no secret self.
W: You have no viscera?
M: Thank you.
W: What a relief, to have one's innards acknowledged!
M: It's my train of thought.
W: Wrecked trains, sleepless nights.
M: I knew you were angry.
W: How could you not be?
M: If that's true ...
W: ... then a = b and b = c.
M: Is this a death ray (I hope not)?
W: Some feel logic strangles what is good.
M: Are you a Biblical figure?
W: Am I intoning too much?
M: You have no viscera?
W: We all do, that's the overlap of the Venn diagram.
M: Is isa secret?
W: The secret of being.
M: Carefully, on tiptoes, going down the mineshaft.
W: Because sheer beingness will let off light, out of control.
M: Voice-over: As it faded, whispers of its unsatisfactory nature reached everyone.
W: The disappointment of it all.
M: My emotional life was in upheaval.
W: You couldn't settle to any task.
M: Do you daydream of being a psychoanalyst?
W: I dream of being a psycho, analyzed.
M: We're not frightened.
W: On the contrary, we are all fleeing the night.
M: A cast of thousands.
W: The whole country, on the run.
M: I've heard of Trelawny of the Wells.
W: That took place in the British Isles, I'm not talking about them.
M: (In trance)
W: (Entrance)
M: But it was not news.
W: Everyone expected me to come in.
M: (Listens to librarian)
W: (Checks out a book)
M: You are cool.
W: Way way way.
M: You must have had it when you came in the door.
W: I cherished my coolth.
M: Are we going to fix the lag?
W: There is no lag.
M: I dream of being a psycho, analyzed.
W: Except sometimes the lag, or gulf, shows up.
M: I am searching for the person who can help me.
W: Who might that be, do you suppose?
M: I dream of being a psycho, analyzed.
W: OK, I will analyze you.
M: I am way cool, Daddy-o!
W: "My analyst told me/That I was right out of my head ..."
M: That took place in the British Isles, I'm not talking about them.
W: I think that was written by an American, but I'd have to look it up.
M: In such a situation, my friend Wanda Pearson was wont to say something like, "Dismantle knowledge, without damaging its component perceptions."
W: You want to dismantle Google?
M: Have people been talking to you about complexity?
W: Most of us say the world is too complex nowadays.
M: Show me something pretty.
W: Something in an iambic pentameter, perhaps?
M: This business of giving birth to a new idea is very painful.
W: It's painful when you can't get a good end rhyme.
M: No, some of the numbers are even.
W: If you're writing in tetrameter, that's so.
M: If a body moves through time and space, is this what blocks, effectively, real understanding?
W: That would mean that only disembodied spirits have hope of communion.
M: Yes, you make everything disappear.
W: The Web makes our bodies (seem to) disappear.
M: He used every trick available to make it yield up some truth.
W: Are you talking about Tim Berners-Lee, creator of the Web?
M: You can't say at any one moment, "Ah, here it is in front of me."
W: Right, because it is always changing.
M: I'm waiting for the inference.
W: You're waiting for the "therefore"?
M: Does that mean far from here, or less far than I imagine?
W: It will be forever far, because today I have no conclusions.
M: Look, don't quiver to show me how much I quiver.
W: You don't want me to mock or mimic.
M: The Web makes our bodies (seem to) disappear.
W: What a relief that would be, if it were real!
M: They're all in school, I think.
W: Who, the Webmasters?
M: Something in an iambic pentameter, perhaps?
W: "The Web is not a thing that one can master."
M: It's not a "whom."
W: It's a "what," I guess, unless you're a supernaturalist.
M: Who, the Webmasters?
W: This Webmaster holds an underlying mystic recognition of c-space.
M: I will prostrate myself while the thoughts ooze out of me.
W: Good attitude for a Web entity.
M: I saw ships.
W: "... come sailing in, on Christmas day in the morning"?
M: Wise men.
W: Magi!
M: I saw rivers of love swept under my feet like a history I'd never forgotten, but couldn't keep hold of in my memory.
W: Trying to grasp the meaty silver of religion's bone.
M: Then ...
W: Then we ran out of words.
M: I would say 765 is a long leap forward.
W: But you are counting backward!
M: What is enlightenment?
W: Ohm, the Q'abbala, I sup(erim)pose.
M: It sounds as though you don't really want to talk to me. Just a matter of preference.
W: I do want to, but I have to work.
M: The floodgates open, just for a second.
W: Bye!
M: Closing in 5 seconds ... Goodbye!

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posted at 12:43 PM
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