Crazy Horse Answers the Question (2008)
[Click on image above to see the view with binoculars.]
One does not sell the earth upon which the people walk. --Crazy Horse
Hoka Hey! It is a good time to die! --Crazy Horse
Image made with Quaz. Post-processed since 1492.
A quick shout-out to programmer, artist, writer Terry W. Gintz. You won't regret a trip to his new poemscapes gallery. Thanks, too, for his dedication.
Tags: fractal, fractal art, digital art, computer art, crazy horse, crazy horse answers the question, terry w gintz, view with binoculars, blog with a view
The Book of CertaintiesWhen both his parents died in the house fire, Woodrow, who had never forgiven them forhis name, inherited the Book of Certainties. He was amazed at how boring everything wasthat was in it and how he had already known page after page of aphorisms that defined him by reinforcing a masculinitythat kept him sane. He had hidden it with the other legaldocuments -- his birth certificate,his high school diploma, his will --because nobody would ever believe the banalities written inside it.As he lived his life, Woodrowknew exactly what choices heshould make at each majorcrisis, and when he followedthe rules correctly, he succeeded,but when he did something thathe knew was wrong, becausethe Book of Certainties had told himso, he suffered the consequencesimmediately. In this way, he liveda decent, middle-class existence,until one day, rifling throughhis wife's boudoir, he discovereda book shaped like a pin cushion.It was his wife's Book of Certainties:he opened and read in bewildermentthe truths it contained that were notwhat he believed in or had ever thoughtpossible, so irrational the sayings were, that he was confused. He confrontedhis wife, who became outraged and angry at the invasion of her privacy and threatened divorce, keeping the house and taking the children with her. Everyone knew,she claimed, that there was a differentBook of Certainties for men than forwomen, and that even children hadtheir own Books of Certainties thateventually they outgrew when theybecame teenagers. Woodrow wasbefuddled. How could there bemultiple Books of Certainties whenthere really ought to be only one –namely the Book he was raised byand had inherited and believed in?Woodrow rushed to his files anddug out his Book of Certainties,but the pages were all moth-eatenand yellow with age, and the spinehad warped and cracked. Dust flew upfrom neglected vowels as Woodrowfanned the pages desperately, lookingfor the answer that would keep himhappy for the rest of his life, but whathe read now seemed out of dateor obsolete, and because he neededabsolute certainty, Woodrow nolonger recognized who he was,shrieking in tongues no oneunderstood, pointing at and mockingwhat remained of his rational world.[Disposable Poem March 25, 2008]
Gorgeous. This is one of my new favorites and the title is perfect. I also noticed a fancy award on your blog - can I have your autograph?Geez, Dr. Mike is on a disposable poetry roll.
Monda,Cool award, yeah. Everyone should drop in over there and join the writing and reading fun. Nice typewriters, too.And Dr. Mike is indeed raging full on lately...
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