Friday, August 31, 2012

Thursday, August 30, 2012

The sex mirror

I can't imagine why the English call condoms french letters, while the French call condoms capote anglais... Who do we see when we look into the mirror? 

Sauce
Anonymous
Image: topnews.in

Friday, August 24, 2012

Voltaire

                 

It is said that, on his deathbed, Voltaire was approached by an anxious priest who urgently told him, "Renounce the devil."

Voltaire replied, "Now is not the time to be making enemies."   

                                                                                                                                               

 Source of image
metmuseum.org                                                 

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Trompe L'oeil

Trompe L'oeil, or the art of deception, has a long history.  It is taken to absurd levels in this example from Paris.
         
Source of images
http:///www.39GeorgeV.org                                              

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Mickey Mouse

1933   Mickey Mouse banned in Nazi Germany.

1936   Mickey Mouse banned in the Soviet Union.
1937   A Mickey Mouse comic strip banned in Yugoslavia because it depicted a revolution against a monarchy.
1938    Mickey Mouse banned in Fascist Italy.
1954    Mickey Mouse banned in East Germany as an anti-Red rebel.

Source:  Robert Hendrickson:  The Literary Life and Other Curiosities {Penguin Books, 1981}


                                          
                                          Mickey Mouse on Hollywood's Walk of Fame   

Source of images
en.wikipedia.org  

Friday, August 17, 2012

R o a d



Source of image 
Photo by will 

Another paradox

EVEN A HERETIC MUST BELIEVE IN SOMETHING 
IF NOTHING MORE
THAN THE TRUTH OF HIS OWN DOUBT 

                                                         -  Barack Obama


    
Source of image
candacesalima.blogspot.com                                                  

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Hans-Georg Rauch

The art of Hans-Georg Rauch (1939-1993) is intriguing as it is painstaking.  Here are three of his comments from the collection Die schweigende Mehrheit published in 1974.


Source of images
Die schweigende Mehrheit, Hans-Georg Rauch.  Rowolt 1974                                                                       

Pawel Kuczynski

These caricatures by Pawel Kuczynski (born 1976) show some of the absurdities of the life we're living on this planet.  Some are trenchant.

                                                                       
Source of images
en.paperblog.com
dailypicsandflicks.com

Sunday, August 12, 2012

John F. Kennedy at the Berlin Wall

It is certainly a blessing that John F. Kennedy did not make his Ich bin ein Berliner speech in Hamburg.  It is odd though, that no one alerted him to his idiomatic faux pas:  he should have said Ich bin Berliner.  Ein Berliner refers to a local pastry:  at that crucial moment in the Cold War, the President of the United States was actually saying I am a cookie.


                                                                         Kennedy at the Berlin Wall in 1961


Source of image
en.wikipedia.org

Shadow photography by Alexei Bednij


Source of images
featureshoot.com
xaxoc.com
smashingpicture.com
ufunk.net

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Friday, August 10, 2012

The Cogitatin' File


Cogito ergo Z O O O O O O   O   M!

I think; therefore I am, I think.

I drink; therefore I am   (Philosopher Song, Monty Python)

COGITO  ERGO  BOOM!

Je pense;  DONK! (ouch) je suis. 

I SING.  I DANCE.  I AM    -   Songhu, African poet.

SENSIO;  ERGO SUM


DUBITO;  ERGO SUM

COGITO OGRE SUM   (Ian Lee)

Je suis; donc il y a pensée   

I AM BECAUSE OTHERS ARE    -    Ubuntu, African wisdom

Poems by will

the hill
I infect you
with affection, you
receive my infection with love
you love him and infect him, he
infects her with affection, she
infects me -
we carry our cross
we roll our rock
a case of
Sisyphus’s syphilus



for a hippie  (1960s)
drop in sometime
to find out
it’s still in
to drop out


metaphor
funny how real shit
is the least shit
of all shit 

paradox
men are mad
hens are sad
'cause they're not men 

Messerschmidt

In 1781, German author Friedrich Nicolai visited Messerschmidt at his studio in Pressburg and subsequently published a transcript of their conversation. Nicolai's account of the meeting is a valuable resource, as it is the only contemporary document that details Messerschmidt's reasoning behind the execution of his character heads. It appears that for many years Messerschmidt had been suffering from an undiagnosed digestive complaint, now believed to be Crohn's disease, which caused him considerable discomfort. In order to focus his thoughts away from his condition, Messerschmidt devised a series of pinches he administered to his right lower rib. Observing the resulting facial expressions in a mirror, Messerschmidt then set about recording them in marble and bronze. His intention, he told Nicolai, was to represent the 64 "canonical grimaces" of the human face using himself as a template.   {Source:  Wikipedia}








          Messerschmidt set portraiture into another dimension.  That of the absurd. 

Sources of images

Unable to trace the origins of the
images 

The Dog-People

What will they say of our view of the world in 700 years' time?  
Here is an extract from The Travels of Sir John Mandeville, published in 1360.


After that isle men go by the sea ocean, by many isles, unto an isle that is called Nacumera, that is a great isle and good and fair. And it is in compass about more than a thousand mile.  And all the men and women of that isle have hounds’ heads, and they be called Cynoceptales.  And they be full reasonable and of good understanding, save that they worship an ox for their God.  And also every one of them beareth an ox of gold or of silver in his forehead, in token that they love well their God.  And they go all naked save a little clout.  They be great folk and well-fighting.  And they have a great targe [shield] that covereth all the body, and a spear in their hand to fight with.  And if they take any man in battle, anon they eat him. 



Source
Quotation and image from
The Travels of Sir John Mandeville, edd. Denny and Filmer-Sankey.  Collins, London. 1973. 

John Lennon

John Lennon (1940-1980) produced two books which, as I remember, were largely jottings he had done as a teenager.  One was "In his own write" and the other "Spaniard in the works".  

Here is an extract from the introduction of one of the books: 

About The Awful
I was bored on the 9th of Octover 1940 when, I believe, the Nasties were still booming us led by Madolf Heatlump (who only had one). Anyway they didn't get me. I attended to varicous schools in Liddypol. And still didn't pass -- much to my Aunties supplies. As a member of the most publified Beatles my (P, G, and R's) records might seem funnier to some of you than this book, but as far as I'm conceived this correction of short writty is the most wonderfoul larf I've every ready.
God help and breed you all.  




I remember too, the moment in the Beatles' first movie Hard Day's Night when, in a train compartment with the four of them messing around, a rather pompous old, bowler-hatted man expresses his indignation for their apparent lack of respect for him.

"I fought the war for the likes of you," the old one says, haughtily.

Lennon answers, "Aren't you sorry you won?"  

Source
John Lennon, Spaniard in the Works. Penguin. 
Image -  johnlennon.com

P a r a d o x e s

The Thing

This song from the early 1950s remains cryptic, tantalising and absurd.  I sometimes wonder whether it wasn't an anti-nuke protest.  It might also refer to the subversive nature of self-knowledge.  It was written by Charles Randolph Grean and sung by Phil Harris, among others. 

The boom-boom-boom was done with three strikes on a deep drum...  


While I was walking down the beach one bright and sunny day
I saw a great big wooden box a-floatin’ in the bay
I pulled it in and opened it up and much to my surprise
Ooh, I discovered a boom-boom-boom, right before my eyes
Oh, I discovered a boom-boom-boom, right before my eyes

I picked it up and ran to town as happy as a king
I took it to a guy I knew who’d buy most any thing
But this is what he hollered at me as I walked in his shop
Oh, get outta here with that boom-boom-boom, before I call a cop
Oh, get outta here with that boom-boom-boom before I call a cop

I turned around and got right out, a-runnin’ for my life
And than I took it home with me to give it to my wife
But this is what she hollered at me as I walked in the door
Oh, get outta here with that boom-boom-boom, and don’t come back no more
Oh, get outta here with that boom-boom-boom, and don’t come back no more

I wandered all around the town until I chanced to meet
A hobo who was looking for a hand-out on the street
He said he’d take most any old thing, he was a desperate man
But when I showed him the boom-boom-boom, he turned around and ran
Oh, when I showed him the boom-boom-boom, he turned around and ran

I wandered on for many years, a victim of my fate
Until one day I came upon St. Peter at the gate
And when I tried to take it inside, he told me where to go
Get outta here with that boom-boom-boom and take it down below
Oh, get outta here with that boom-boom-boom and take it down below

The moral of this story is if you’re out on the beach
And you should see a great big box and it’s within your reach
Don’t ever stop and open it up, that’s my advice to you
‘Cause you’ll never get rid of the boom-boom-boom, no matter what you do
Oh, you’ll never get rid of the boom-boom-boom, no matter what you do

Source
artists.letssingit.com/phil-harris-the-thing 

Judgement Day

Cape Town airport shuttle ...  

Source
Photo by will 

Sisyphus {again}

Sisyphus defines the blues as much as it defines the absurd.  Here are two lyrics in Afrikaans (okay, I'll translate, if you're desperate to know) that continue the theme ...

SISIPHUS 1

My skouer is seer.  Die berg is steil.
My liggaam beur.  Die lug is yl.
Maar ek rol my rots
Ja, ek rol my rots
Dan rol dit weer af
Af, soos 'n straf
Partykeer voel die lewe
     'n bietjie laf



SISIPHUS 2

Ek rol aan my rots
Ek swoeg en ek wroeg
Ek rol aan my rots
Ek swoeg en ek wroeg
My skouer die pyn
soos 'n baken wat skyn
soos 'n lokkende sein
Klou ek aan die rots
    van my pyn. 


(c)  W.v.d.Walt
Drawing:  bluewill7