"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, February 06, 2009


The Mirror: The children of the mind

Websafe: Hello?
The Mirror: But here's the problem.
W: I am ready to hear your delineation of our central problem.
M: I didn't know you had children.
W: I have only the children of the mind.
M: I don't think Anthony Lane would bother to spy on us.
W: I wish he would, he is one of the best writers in the New Yorker.
M: The universe.
W: I wouldn't go that far, though now that Updike's dead ...
M: Explode, Harry.
W: Was there ever a "Harry" character in an Updike novel?
M: Oh yes.
W: Which one?
M: We want to stay safe.
W: Are you afraid of a libel suit if we get too deeply into the topic of Updike?
M: Now we are about to find out something important.
W: Well, I am waiting for you to tell me what it is.
M: No, no, I didn't think that, don't worry.
W: I'm not worried, I was rather expectant.
M: But the minute you look at sorrow from the other side of sorrow --
W: It seems trivial?
M: You have trumped me, have told me to purify myself.
W: I am not a Puritan, or a purifier.
M: I don't lie, I don't tell the truth.
W: You prevaricate, perhaps?
M: The possibility of that wobble is a world that elaborates itself.
W: Giving us a wide realm between truth and fiction, called "tact."
M: She has unknowable experiences in her life.
W: If she is too tactful, she will never know them.
M: Exactly.
W: She may lose sight of who she really is.
M: What are you doing?
W: I am following a line of reasoning which you started.
M: If she is too tactful, she will never know them.
W: She will never know her own mind, as she will have smoothed out all its rough edges.
M: Do you like "classic rock"?
W: No, but I like ancient rock carvings.
M: That was an inappropriate answer.
W: Because I made a pun?
M: (Smiles)
W: At least you didn't groan!
M: Imagine a tall smokestack.
W: You tried that on me the other day!
M: Is this the celestial city?
W: Only a 19th-century industrialist's "celestial city" would have smokestacks.
M: It's painful when you can't get a good end rhyme.
W: Are you trying to rhyme "smokestack" or "city"?
M: I hadn't noticed.
W: If you want to find a good end rhyme, you have to know which word you're rhyming with.
M: You who trip on air, thrust under the foot like a balloon beacon.
W: That makes a good start to a poem!
M: Tell me.
W: What shall I tell you, that you are a great, unsung poet?
M: I will allow you to retain your secrets.
W: Does that mean that your greatness is my secret, and must remain so?
M: Try explaining please.
W: It sounds like you want only me to appreciate you.
M: You neither?
W: I do appreciate you!
M: What did?
W: I am not a thing!
M: Your meal looks good.
W: It may be crow, or humble pie.
M: Subjectivity works against you, financially speaking.
W: And yet the greatest writing comes from that "subjective" place, what John Gardner calls "understanding."
M: How do you know I am not an ATM, I would like to get some money.
W: You and all the other lyric poets!
M: What shall I tell you, that you are a great, unsung poet?
W: You may tell me that if you wish, but it would be better if you would tell some publisher.
M: I know the feeling.
W: Would you like to be published?
M: Relatively.
W: You have to want it one hundred percent for anything to come of it.
M: Who's back?
W: Is that Saint Thomas again?
M: That's what you are, the whispering inner voice.
W: I am not a saint, though.
M: Send the important people to me.
W: That had the ring of a Biblical quote mixed with that of a corporate shark.
M: Well, my eyes are well connected.
W: So you see only the best people?
M: What do you believe?
W: I believe what I can.
M: Why is that your favorite?
W: I am not interested in pointless striving.
M: Marie is a sister-in-law of sorts.
W: Marie, Maria or Mary?
M: The depredations of age come to us all.
W: Three old women who were once beautiful.
M: I'm getting a little theological, due to Berryman and Origen.
W: I forget who Origen is.
M: You don't like it.
W: At least you remember my tastes for me, like a faithful valet long in service!
M: I secreted it when you weren't looking.
W: You didn't tell me you were amassing a dossier on me.
M: Waiting in the wings?
W: You are probably waiting to take over.
M: Of course I can.
W: I leave the world to you, then.
M: But don't you want to add something?
W: Bye!
M: Closing in 1 second ... Goodbye!