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Two things make this unlike a day like any other. One is that month, day and year in the mm-dd-yy format are in numerical sequence for the second-to-last time this century; the other is this is the 300th time I’ve punched “New Post” at WordPress and deemed the result publishable. Since I’m forever enumerating and otherwise manipulating numbers, the two phenomena are a good fit for “A very SPECIAL episode of ‘One with Clay, Image and Text.'”

Opus #300

Of course the Cosmos has my #
Pale penumbra; 1-2-3
Undercut the Grand Vizier-0
Seek ye Wisdom NOT from her-0

(Some ambiguity is built-in, and some is added. The Pound sign is now employed in referral, and it and a given phrase then referred to as a ‘hash tag;’ it also means both Pounds and Number. FYI: it means “number” in the acrostic. The zeroes are pronounced “Oh,” and, oh, by the way, they do not mean “zero” in the acrostic; they are a syllable dependent on their surroundings. “Her-0” should be pronounced “Hero.” As for the stuff in brackets, Googlers of “Lord William Not-from-here” will get a very SPECIAL lowdown on an intriguing character in the Instrumentality of Mankind mythos according to Cordwainer Smith.)

Eleven Twelve 2013

Endearing 2-some says À Bientôt
Leave 2lips in the sun to bloom & glow
Elopement’s zer0 hour makes them pale
Vivacious c0uple shakes but does not bail
Enlisting Space 13 for their RV
Now Wedded Bliss yields 13 forms of Glee

What better thing to do on this special numerical day than to get married? Truth is, a couple got married on today’s Today Show.

As for the illustration, attempts to deconstruct it may well prove it indeconstructionable. [proud-kid smile]

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This is a poem and an image addressing that aspect of reality and/or literature some call “layering”– several things are going on simultaneously, and as your focus shifts your perception of reality changes though reality itself doesn’t. In the image a flashlight shines through a stencil of the number 10, superimposing all or part of the 10 on four aces. That is one way to Ten an Ace.

Calliope is one of the nine Muses. The Muses are goddesses of inspiration in Greek mythology, daughters of Zeus, ruler of the gods, and Mnemosyne, who personified Memory and from whom the word Mnemonic is derived. The other eight Muses are Clio, Thalia, Erato, Euterpe, Polyhymnia, Terpsichore, Urania, and Melpomene. If you’re a Terpsichorean you have probably correctly guessed that Terpsichore is the Muse of Dance. If you’ve ever ridden on a Calliope, and are unfamiliar with Greek mythology, you have probably incorrectly guessed that Calliope is the Muse of Music. Given another guess about who is the Muse of Music, you might go for Polyhymnia. But that’s also incorrect, or at best only a little bit correct.  According to Wikipedia, Calliope is the Muse of EPIC poetry and Polyhymnia is the Muse of SACRED poetry. So who is the Muse of Music? None of them or all of them. The word Music is derived from the greek μουσική, pronounced something like “moose-ee-keh” and translated as “art of the Muses.”

“The calliope crashed to the ground” is a line from “Blinded By the Light,” written by Bruce Springsteen and performed by Manfred Mann. Lots of layers in that song too. One line was quite controversial, but I’ll let Wikipedia tell it: “The most prominent change is in the chorus, where Springsteen’s ‘cut loose like a deuce’ is replaced with ‘revved up like a deuce.’This is commonly misheard as ‘wrapped up like a douche (the V sound in “revved” is almost unpronounced, and the S sound in ‘deuce’ comes across as ‘SH’ due to a significant lisp).’ Springsteen himself has joked about the controversy, claiming that it was not until Manfred Mann rewrote the song to be about a feminine hygiene product that it became popular.

I love it that no fewer than three of the Muses are designated for Poetry. (Erato is the Muse of LOVE and/or SEX poetry.)

So why Ten an Ace? The answer is derived from the punchline of a dirty joke (technically, though, it’s the answer to a dirty riddle. This post is joked with inconsistencies). The answer is Because We Can. And not just Canners can.

I could go on with this post forever but I’ve got to Layer to rest…[unjustified grin]

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I’m embarrassed, but not quite ashamed, to publish this one. It was done in haste and the drawing is crappy, but the idea is OK and the pun, though I say so myself, is elegant.

Here are the words:

Motivations vary. Some will give it tooth & claw
Even laying down a life for Flag & Ma & Pa
Money, bragging rights & buzz are ways of keeping power; breathe our last & always there’s a whiff of sweet & sour

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I keep trying and missing with Spoon-capture. A spoon can be a wonderfully reflective surface, or it can be a real mud-dog, depending on a lot of drawing choices. Before the year is over, though, I think I’ll have a good one.

Here are the words, followed by a couple more spoon studies.

Sacred to our folklore is the sacrificial lamb
Poisonous the notion lives are set upon a trammel
Overlooked the making active use of déjà vu
One must wonder what we’d change to make it non-ensue
Never going backwards means that everything is news

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Here’s to Tim Curry then and sooner. His sheer talent and brass helped make THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW not merely a cult favorite, but part of the matrix of the Mainstream–an astonishing feat, given the homophobic culture it was created in.

Alas, the media reported that he’d had a major stroke last May. And Lou Reed, another out-there genius, has died. The passage of time is ever scarring, and scary.

This page came to be because last month I did a quickbunny page just to do a page, and the acrostic happened to be TIME WARP. I’d intended to publish it today, but could not find it. So, “Well, why not do a page on Tim Curry?” So I did. So THEN I found the TIME WARP page. And since my Canadian friend Michel Lamontagne had admired a post wherein I combined 2 and 3D, I repeat, with an old, baggy-wrapped self-portrait sketch of mine that is apropos because it’s sort of like the Picture of Dorian Gray now:

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Words to the first one:

Concupiscence compel’d the Dr. so
Unglaublich hijinx did seem apropos
Recumbent S Sarandon lets him ski
Rococo-outre suits him to a T
Yet he’s pre-served his equinimity

Words to the second:

Those who reap B4 they sow
If away but get Samoa
Milliseconds from afar
End unweaving-unpluck’d harp

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This page was twinly inspired by the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam and by my wish for a good night’s rest for my Girlfriend, Denise.

Words:

Come we to see the fall of Dusk benign
And on a slumbered Dream-repast we dine
Lash-fluttering & rest: a night’s success
Mementos that the sainted Martyrs bless.

Good night, my dearest Denise…

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This is a genuine 15 by 15 diagonally symmetrical crossword puzzle, constructed by my genuine self after two days of tribulation. It is now seven minutes to midnight, and I’m determined to publish today. If it is too hard to read, please let me know and I will transcribe post-publication.

Here’s a clean grid for solvers:

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Above is a playful riff-o-rama on the Probabilistic Quantum Multiverse, wherein for every way things CAN happen, they DO, and each possibility gets its own private universe. There is no one acrostic poem above, but here is one variation:

Grant this logorithmic soul
Righteous lack of wrongish troll. O
Isthmus straitens bric-a-brac
Deviathan devoids the rack.

I thought I’d coined a new word with Deviathan (quickdef: Deviant Leviathan), but I find to my dismay there are over 13,000 search results. [sad face]

Though this is playful, it is also a try at Art with a capital A. The illustration is a visual pun for Gridlock. It is a forbidding, Cartesian-coordinated box, and visual pun #2 is that all my subversive/versive thinking is done outside the box. Plus, the bottom row of boxes is a wordless, step-by-step lesson in how to draw a 15 by 15 grid freehand with nothing but paper and pencil. This is handy for crossword puzzle constructors who want to go Commando.

How? Why? Let me close both wordlessly and wordfully with this work in progress:

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As of this writing, I’ve been a front desk clerk working the Graveyard Shift, 11pm to 7am, for a bit over nine months. There’s a great upside: it’s quiet; my supervisor has no problem with me sketching, reading or writing to stay awake and alert; there’s about three and a half hours of work, emergencies excluded, to get done in an eight-hour shift; a chef-prepared meal is provided. There’s a downside as well, but let’s accentuate the positive.

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Here are the words to the double acrostic:

Nocturnality’s not pyrotechnic
If the a l c o h o l is isopropyl
Given processed dew on tension’s surface
Haste is wasted whist if you’re a slow peer
Take a moonlight shave & risk a neck nick

Flash explication:

Line 1: Being up all night might be boring…

Line 2: …if your fluid of choice is isopropyl alcohol and not booze alcohol.

Line 3: How is dew processed? Through evaporation or consumption. Watching dew evaporate is tiresome…

Line 4: The line riffs on “haste makes waste.”

Line 5: Don’t shave on shift under penalty of flaw.

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A fox pup is called a kit. A drawing of an explosion is sometimes sound-effected with the semi-onomatopoetic Ka-Blooie. In English colloquy the phrase kit and kaboodle means The Whole Thing. A charming discussion of Kaboodle may be found on Wikipedia, here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kaboodle

I was hoping the box lid which survived my kiln mishap would be usable as a polar-coordinated drawing substrate. I was at first nonplussed by the above result. Now I think the paper and the more 3d lid, floating in scannerspace as they do, look nicely mysterious together. This prosaic explanation may be doing you readers a disservice. Try forgetting I said anything, and look at it again. [smiles]