I admire grass, thought Blurtso. It never gets discouraged. It keeps growing no matter how often they mow it down. And in a storm it just bends with the wind. It makes me happy to think… we are what we eat.
Category: Taoism
“Blurtso considers ambition”
Ambition… is no substitute for love.
“Blurtso becomes autopoietic”
Some episodes, thought Blurtso, just draw themselves.
“Ditto and Virginia look at the trees”
It’s good for trees to have deep roots, said Virginia.
And for the soil, said Ditto, to have tall trees.
“Ditto is lost in the sound”
Is it possible, said Virginia, to become a sound?
What? said Ditto. I was lost in the melody of your voice.
“Blurtso looks at the grass” (II)
If a single blade of grass exists only as a part of the pattern called grass, and the pattern called grass exists only as a part of the pattern called the world, and the pattern called the world exists only as a part of the pattern called the universe, then everything that exists exists only as pattern, and it is impossible to speak of grass, or pumpkin pies, or “Blurtso”, without speaking of the universe.
“Blurtso thinks about grass” (I)
An individual blade of grass is inconceivable. It only exists as the pattern of relationships—seed, soil, roots, water, sun—called grass. An individual donkey is also inconceivable.
“Blurtso gets honked off the road”
Honk!… Honk!… Honk!…
Get off the f!@#%!g road you stupid donkey!
Hmmm, thought Blurtso, that person is sure in a hurry.
He must be out of pumpkin pie.
“Blurtso pays it forward”
I have spent my life eating things that are alive or were once alive. I sure hope whatever I become food for… enjoys eating me as much as I have enjoyed eating.
“Blurtso loses himself in the breeze”
Somewhere beyond the city, maybe up north, in Maine, the warmth is thickening on the breeze, the mud is hardening underhoof, and voices are swelling on the branches. And a donkey with no place to go is losing himself, in the fragrance of needles and pine.