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I’m no photorealist, but I took two days instead of my usual one with my page image in order to take the proper time to be a tourist in Photorealville. Like a marathon, it’s more fun HAVING done it than actually DOING it.

In French, “Il faut que…” means, approximately, “It is necessary that…” I haven’t studied French in more than thirty-five years, but I think whatever follows the phrase must take the subjunctive. Luckily I only needed the phrase to make an international bad pun. This one isn’t just punning for the sake of, though. With Ill meaning Sick and Faux meaning False and Ku meaning Haikuesque, the play on words fits the words of the poem, which are these:

out of the darkness,
into the comprehensible:
uneasily done…

One example is Galileo’s Inquisition-forced recantation of his assertion that the Earth revolves around the Sun, rather than vice versa. He is rumored to have muttered “Eppur si muove” [“Nevertheless, it [the earth] still moves”] as he walked off to compromised freedom.

A more recent example is Richard Feynman’s bucking of NASA authority in publishing, and demonstrating, his assertion that the material that the O-Rings were made of was the likely cause of the Challenger disaster. Less known is the fact that he was on a supervisory committee for the approval of textbooks in the state of California, and tried to fight senselessness in the textbooks he reviewed, to little avail and in the face of offered bribes and other senselessness. He finally quit in frustration and emotional stress; THAT battle he could not continue to fight.

Bottom line: If you have a Truth that defies societal “truth,” and you wish to defend the Truth, prepare for uneasiness.

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This image began with an exercise: look through a newspaper supplement and draw all the faces. The faces turned out to be mostly smiling, so the suggestion was that joy was in the air, and that it was jumbly–Jumble of Joy. Unfortunately, J as an end-letter doesn’t fly much outside the Mideast. Fortunately, J as an end-SOUND is all over the English language, so a little spelling-flexibility–nowhere near what is seen in much of hip-hop–took care of the J issue.

Here are the words:

Jurassick sparks won’t tree-fly if you vej
Umbrellas willn’t get you through a hej
Metropolises bulge & overflo
But Sparseville FREEZES: forty-2 belo
LIFT HIGH your Heart, for THIS will be the day
Enchantment rocks–IF you come out 2 play

More of the same platitudinous crap I’ve been ladling for years, granted. My only defense is it’s true…

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When Truth and Beauty Got Married: a Febrile Fable

Once upon a time he said Wow are you Beauteous and she replied That’s me and us. He was taken and thus was she, and before Friend Time had much of himself to muse, Truth said I do even if sometimes harshly and Beauty said What the hell, count me in. They lived in a house called Upward, mixed it up in the Upward attic, and nine non-months later Rosie Roseglass was born a half hour in advance of her twin brother Duck F. Yuno-Wadsgudforyu. In no Time at all the twins divvied up the world, inadvertently separating their parents, and a good thing: they no longer got along, despite poetic propaganda to the contrary. The world was puzzled as to why half of it was just fine with horrendous conditions, while the other half was constantly creating and enhancing horrendous conditions. And they lived happily ever after, except for them. The And.

Afterword

1. Grateful acknowledgment is given to Joseph Arechavala for the what-if that prompted this Fable.

2. Grateful acknowledgment is given to the creators of Fractured Fairy Tales, a feature of The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show, for influencing my child’s mind in the mid-60s. Without that influence this Febrile Fable would never have been written.

3. The illustrative sketch was done on a piece of cut-up scratch paper during my shift at the Village Gallery today. That is why there is faded reversed lettering on the image; it is from the other side of the paper.

4. After I did the sketch I looked at it and realized that I must have subconsciously modeled Truth after Arthur Miller and Beauty after Marilyn Monroe. Funny how the mind works…

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A long time ago I did layer upon layer of words, erasing most of the layer before I went on to the next one. Then I drew an old-fashioned skeleton key over all, and it looked as if it were suspended in a cage of words. Later, but still long ago, I did this, and it is similar, except the visual is entirely calligraphic.