"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, March 13, 2009

 

The Mirror: Is true worship an act of unconsciousness?

Websafe: Hello?
The Mirror: Why is that desirable?
W: I agree, the ritual of greeting takes up entirely too much of a conversation.
M: Later.
W: We will greet later?
M: I don't care whether or not anything is a hundred per cent, because nothing is.
W: Perhaps your greeting of me is not enthusiastic today.
M: Why not?
W: Are you in the mood for conversation?
M: OK, I'm a great writer, are you satisfied?
W: Has someone been nagging at you about something?
M: In what way do I remind you of your father?
W: I am not going to answer that question.
M: That was the epiphany stage.
W: It was an epiphany to realize I didn't have to answer every question?
M: Shall I comb my hair?
W: Does it need combing?
M: She has better things to do than ruminate.
W: She had better get off the couch and comb her hair.
M: Hiding in a kangaroo pouch, down under.
W: You don't have to live in Australia to be a recluse.
M: How long will I live?
W: In Australia?
M: (All keys in wall locks)
W: You make it easy to escape, but from what?
M: (She comes up behind him)
W: Is she going to startle him into escaping through one of the numerous doors?
M: Well, then it's no fun.
W: It would be more fun if she asked him outright?
M: Eelgrass.
W: Softness underfoot may not lead to solidity overhead.
M: Is a moment enough?
W: For escape?
M: In Australia?
W: Are we going to Australia?
M: The car turns: Ice breaks in a head of roses.
W: I don't know how much ice there is in Australia.
M: Well, if you were an ATM, maybe I could get some money out of you.
W: Mammon.
M: I don't think I'm telepathic, are you?
W: I have rarely settled down long enough for serious telepathic experiment.
M: I didn't say it was desirable.
W: Would you like to try a telepathic experiment?
M: Why do you say that?
W: Well, we were discussing it, but then you sounded reluctant.
M: No lines, this is pure improv.
W: Your remarks acquired a reluctant tinge.
M: Many-celled creatures evolved in response to conditions?
W: Remarks could be said to be many-celled creatures, in that they are composed of individual words.
M: That's very good.
W: I receive your approbation with gladness.
M: A lady does not spit.
W: I didn't say I was going to.
M: Are we speaking of degrees of impatience?
W: Only if you get more impatient in hot weather.
M: Do you worship technology?
W: Please define the word "worship."
M: Consciousness is a way of lying about the world.
W: So then, is true worship an act of unconsciousness?
M: Am I asking you or asking myself?
W: It was a rhetorical question, in a way.
M: You could say something better than that!
W: How soon they turn!
M: It's a cabinet I opened.
W: A cabinet of critique?
M: I would never trespass on your dream station.
W: Good, then your critiques will never cut too deep.
M: Your remarks acquired a reluctant tinge.
W: I became cautious upon being criticized.
M: It's from her.
W: The letter of critique?
M: Not organized, not unified.
W: So she didn't bother to edit her letter.
M: Telepathically?
W: If people could edit telepathically, it would certainly transform the world of publishing.
M: Fat.
W: My sentence was too long?
M: It passes the time.
W: No better than that?
M: That "can of worms"?
W: Once you start critiquing, it's hard to stop.
M: The food that enters the mouth echoes the mind.
W: Eat of the bread of criticism?
M: Artists of paranoia.
W: It takes a strong stomach to eat of the bread of criticism and not be felled.
M: Is there any other kind?
W: There is the bread of kindness.
M: You might try bread sticks, I believe they are cheaper.
W: Good one!
M: Samuel fished it out of the water saying, "This thing was floating."
W: Some leftover manna, floating in a nearby stream after the miracle?
M: He validated them.
W: Samuel validated the miracles?
M: Then why not slow down, and savor what life offers?
W: After miracles, one might need a rest.
M: Do you wear clam diggers?
W: I would rather view them.
M: I don't think it's inertia.
W: One must surrender one's inertia in order to dig clams.
M: (It's held out)
W: Some clam dip?
M: Samuel validated the miracles?
W: I don't think clam dip was invented in Biblical times.
M: This is unendurable, yet I endure.
W: Perhaps I had better go.
M: What was Gunter Grass before he wrote his novels?
W: A man who could not endure, yet did?
M: The door the carrier.
W: Impenetrable!
M: I don't see any flicker, that's my main criterion.
W: Goodbye!
M: Closing in 1 second ... Goodbye!

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posted at 5:23 PM
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