.
Ah! Remember what I said about my notebooks being a cruel practical joke? Well, what I did here was to tear a picture from a magazine, paste it onto the page, and then compose extempore a very short story upon it. It's an exercise in imagination and discipline. As I recall it, the story worked.
But if the story worked, then why should I? I look at the thing and my heart shrinks from the job. It would be a lot of labor to decipher it. So I shan't.
Feel free to do so yourself, though, if that's the way your inclinations bend.
*
There's more to me than shows on the surface. I have heart, I have soul, I can fly, I'm the Batman. To the world I look like Clark Kent, a dweeb, a loser, a nerd, ?_el ?th__, true. But these are secretly good things. If you ?look, you'll see that I'm Superman, George Lukas [sic], Franz Kafka, Bill Gates. The same goes for you -- You're Germaine Greer, Rosa Parks, Supergirl, Wonder Woman, Mother Hilton, Paris Hilton. Only not so slutty. Not that we don't all wish you were. But you're not.
ReplyDeleteWhich is why I've invented this flaying-and-flensing machine. To bring out our inner beauty. Don't scream. Sure, it'll hurt. But look at what you'll be afterwards. Are you happy now? Satisfied? Delighted? Then swallow your ?thanks.
[queries indicated by ? -- there's two words I can't quite make out after 'a nerd'.]
God bless you, Zvi. And thanks. I've been working on "The Dala Horse" and honestly didn't have the time you put into this page.
ReplyDeleteSo I guess what I'm saying is that you're a better person than I am.
Aw, Michael. That's too kind of you. It was fun!
ReplyDelete