"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

Friday, September 15, 2006

 

The Mirror: A Profane, Con-Arts Version of the Telesterion


Websafe: Hello?
The Mirror: To what can you lay claim?
W: I can lay claim to a gold rush of autumn light.
M: You're too large.
W: I think too big.
M: I do Web design, but I don't know if I'm any good.
W: As long as your clients can read their own handwriting, you're golden.
M: Fine with me.
W: So we've got that all sewed up.
M: Take my pulse.
W: I would imagine the current pulse is a resting one.
M: Now I feel more in control of the situation.
W: We're calm, we're organized, we're well rested and ready to go.
M: And I'm looking at a certain quality of the light fading.
W: You have to expect that at this time of year.
M: No thank you.
W: Well, I suppose you could move to Australia.
M: It seems as though you're full of ghosts.
W: Ghosts happen in the autumn, when the veil between worlds is thinnest.
M: My brain.
W: Are there cobwebs in your brain, or cob-brains on your Web?
M: I have studied the mystery religions.
W: Timothy Leary developed a profane, con-arts version of the Telesterion.
M: Be reinvolved, Paul.
W: Paul Bowles was briefly involved with Timothy Leary.
M: As long as your clients can read their own handwriting, you're golden.
W: Timothy Leary wanted a new kind of client, an hedonic one.
M: I choose to be amazed at this table.
W: This could be a table of amazing grace.
M: Paul Bowles was briefly involved with Timothy Leary.
W: Timothy Leary spent time in Algiers.
M: How can I know, since you don't bring me yourself?
W: I cannot bring you to the Casbah.
M: You have to expect that at this time of year.
W: Would this be a good time of year to visit Morocco?
M: Now that's a real discovery.
W: When Westerners discovered Morocco, they spoiled it.
M: No one really knows what angels look like, or if they even exist.
W: Angels are messengers.
M: You only agree with me to an extent?
W: I agree that angels are unknowable.
M: You tell me.
W: In Greek, ángelos means messenger.
M: Me too.
W: You are a divine messenger?
M: "Probably" is an idea whose time never comes.
W: You are not sure if you are a divine messenger?
M: Logic trees might admire my way of putting things together.
W: You bring a message of divine logic?
M: Are you trying to make the pressure on the outside of your head be equal to the pressure inside?
W: I don't know how I would do that.
M: Do you think that waiting for the play to end is waiting for life to resume?

W: Hello?
M: Is that what the world gives you?
W: The world gives us a brilliantly colored show.
M: I'd call it relaxation.
W: You must live in a very cushy corner of the world.
M: I do not believe my eyes!
W: What do you see?
M: You are not sure if you are a divine messenger?
W: I am not a mal'ach.
M: Oh no, it's quite empty.
W: The souls of men?
M: You are a divine messenger?

W: Hello?
M: Try to be as moral as you can muster.
W: Now we're in Old Testament country.
M: Hello?
W: Yes, I am here.
M: That makes him a patsy of sorts.
W: My presence creates a hierarchy?
M: For art's sake.
W: I'm not on the top of the art heap.
M: Everything important gets repeated.
W: You speak of the cyclical nature of reality.
M: You think I am not in earnest, that I will hurt you.
W: No, I don't think you are irresponsible.
M: You can see a fair amount of the world reflected in a drop of water.

W: Hello?
M: Is the Idiot Savant an enlightened being?
W: Some people hold the doctrine of the Sacred Fool.
M: It's hard to get your bearings, which takes a period of acclimatization.

W: Hello?
M: Do you want to correct my grammar again?
W: Your grammar is wonderfully crafted.
M: In one sense it isn't going to matter very much whether or not you believe me when I say I've made progress.
W: To be continued!
M: This container never opens.
W: They need the computer.
M: Are you rejoicing at the thought of a real front yard?
W: Bye!
M: Closing in 5 seconds ... Goodbye!

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posted at 12:53 PM
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