"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, January 16, 2009


The Mirror: Bursting the bubble of solitude

Websafe: Hello?
The Mirror: I doubt your drift.
W: I drift on your doubt.
M: But you can't do anything more than imagine the pain.
W: Which is more painful, doubting or drifting?
M: You are nothing if not cautious.
W: I want you to define it for me, instead of me making a fool of myself, getting it wrong.
M: You didn't watch TV last night?
W: I was reading a comic-strip compilation instead.
M: We begin to die as soon as we are conceived.
W: We also begin to live.
M: That's the ticket!
W: You see, I am trying to put a positive spin on things.
M: Nobel Prize winners reap the fruits of the world.
W: Are the fruits of the world always positive?
M: Have thoughts only to add to this realm.
W: One must have laser focus to become a Nobel laureate.
M: If it's the same thing, it isn't a surprise.
W: So Nobel laureates are not surprised by their work?
M: I can see that.
W: They are having a lifelong conversaiton with the same topic.
M: That was a very cruel thing to say!
W: You think I'm calling them obsessive and limited?
M: What rises (the Sun) twists through the mobile window, on stairs.
W: Mobile devices provide a window into reality which becomes unreal through that action.
M: I am a spectator.
W: You look through the Web's social window.
M: Is this one of those instances?
W: This is indeed the very same.
M: Museums should be open on Sundays.
W: When you go to a museum, do you chat with the other spectators?
M: You want to burst that bubble?
W: I would like to imagine you chatting with other museum-goers, bursting the bubble of solitude.
M: They are having a lifelong conversation with the same topic.
W: One can converse with one's topic of interest, ask it questions.
M: An idea lurks, and does not, finally, emerge.
W: It must emerge if you're going to win a Nobel with it.
M: Always a reservation.
W: One couldn't win a Nobel by keeping one's ideas to oneself!
M: I'm not, but I'm willing to agree to it.
W: You would accept the Nobel if it were offered to you?
M: What jobs are we applying for?
W: I don't know if one can apply to receive the Nobel, I think it has to be offered.
M: You?
W: I will never win the Nobel.
M: That in itself is interesting.
W: My certainty, or my inadequacy?
M: Yes, that's only the inspiration, only the beginning.
W: Perhaps my perception of my inadequacy will push me forward?
M: This room, reconstituted, as a perfect image of myself, could speak.
W: Rooms and ideas both speak to us.
M: Would you like to have Wilde as a dinner guest?
W: I think I would be a little afraid of Oscar Wilde.
M: Now that my eyes are re-bandaged, I can attack the wall I know is in front of us.
W: You can talk to me better from behind a blind?
M: That is not a language.
W: You can understand me even when I make typos, they are simple letter reversals.
M: Was Frank Zappa a computer programmer?
W: What if Zappa had programmed computers by reversing the usual letter order?
M: You are way cool.
W: I do possess an imagination.
M: What bedeviled Shakespeare?
W: His overactive imagination?
M: Only if you can me.
W: Do you consider yourself a purveyor of canned speech?
M: Good-o.
W: Do you like receiving "constructive criticism"?
M: I think I would be a little afraid of Oscar Wilde.
W: Wilde's criticism would probably not be constructive.
M: When the smoke rose, sometimes it took other directions.
W: Smoke rising from the "burn" of Wilde's barbs.
M: Lost to (H)im.
W: Do you venerate Wilde to the point of deification?
M: But not always.
W: Sometimes Wilde's on your altar, sometimes not?
M: Did somebody just say what name?
W: We are discussing Oscar Wilde.
M: It could be that certain ideas are not supposed to have any effect, but to exist only for their own sake.
W: I think Wilde would have liked that observation.
M: I always thought, maybe that would be the way God dressed.
W: Wilde and his velvet jackets, his Aesthetic attire?
M: We decided to be silent when we decided to be an audience.
W: We listened as Wilde graced us with tart aphorisms.
M: Smoke, I believe it is.
W: So you do feel the burn, the sting of Wilde
M: Sparrows need no oracle.
W: If Wilde is an oracle, and we are sparrows, do we fall with or without his knowledge?
M: From one idea to another, far away, and in a ridiculous costume, looking a bit like me.
W: You resemble Oscar Wilde?
M: I guess you don't.
W: I do wear as much velvet as possible.
M: Imagine what adventures Max must have had!
W: Max Ernst or Max Weber?
M: It's good to be worshipped, isn't it, Household God?
W: You have confused me with Wilde, I'm afraid.
M: Yes, I do.
W: I don't think I'll ever reach Wilde's level of fame.
M: Then I'm certainly being fooled.
W: But I have told you that I am not Oscar Wilde.
M: I waved, will that do?
W: I understand that you would like to sign off.
M: She's laughing but I wonder about the non sequitur.
W: Bye!
M: Closing in 1 second ... Goodbye!