I am mortified, said Blurtso. What? said Alex. Poor Jane, said Blurtso, and poor Mister Bingley. Who? said Alex. I never saw a more promising inclination, said Blurtso, he had grown quite inattentive toward other people, and is not general incivility the very essence of love? What? said Alex. I am mortified, said Blurtso, I am humbled, I am grieved, and hope against hope that Wickam and Lydia will be married. I have been so ungenerous to Mister Darcy, and now we owe the restoration of everything to him. What on earth are you talking about? said Alex. And what’s that book you’re reading? It’s Pride and Prejudice, said Blurtso, by Jane Austen. Oh, said Alex. You are too generous to trifle with me, said Blurtso, if you will take another cup of tea, please, tell me at once. Another cup? said Alex. Why yes, I shall accept your offer, with gratitude and pleasure.
Tag: paintings
“Blurtso looks at the snow” (XXVI)
“Bonny and Ditto share some quality time” (XVIII)
“Bonny and Ditto share some quality time” (XVII)
“Ditto thinks of a leaf”
Hmmm, thought Ditto, would you look at that… a leaf caught in the stream. Wavering on the water, pushed against a stone. It’s a dry leaf, yellow and crinkly. I wonder how long it will remain here, softly battering the stone? I wonder what will become of it when I’m gone? I wonder if it will miss me? I wonder if I will think of it at night when I’m home? I wonder if it will still be here, softly battering the stone?
“Blurtso slips into stone”
Watch Blurtso slip into stone on Youtube
Into stone people come and go, slaves of Michelangelo…
Artist carved a brand new beauty, polished it and made it clean,
but now the stones are rough and the artist’s dust
and the statue’s going home, slipping back, slipping into stone.
Into stone people come and go, slaves of Michelangelo…
Mommy has a brand new baby, dress him up and keep him clean,
but the years will reach him, and time will teach him,
tear him down ‘fore he’s full grown, leaving him slipping into stone.
Into stone people come and go, slaves of Michelangelo…
So you think you’re doing fine, think that you have got it made,
but the music’s slowing, you can hear it going,
like a long forgotten poem, like the faces in the foam,
and all the places you’ve ever known, they’re slipping into stone.
Into stone people come and go, slaves of Michelangelo…
You can’t run, you can’t hide, doesn’t matter
if you’re nice or if you’re mean, midnight walking,
all-night talking, there ain’t no stopping going home,
‘cause you and me, we’re slipping, slipping into stone.
“Blurtso and friends visit the White Mountains”
“Bonny and Ditto share some quality time” (XVI)
“Blurtso considers Shakespeare”
My Shakespeare paper is due tomorrow, I’d better get started. I wonder what I should write? I guess it would be too obvious to say that Shakespeare knew a lot, even though he did. He knew more than I know, that’s for sure. I wonder how he learned all the things he knew? I wonder if he went to school? I wonder if he wrote papers? I wonder who students wrote papers about before Shakespeare became Shakespeare? If Shakespeare would have known how famous he was going to become, he could have written a paper about himself. That would be easy. Even I could write a paper about myself. But I don’t think I’m ever going to be famous. I don’t think Harvard is ever going to offer a class called “Introduction to Blurtso 101,” or “Advanced Blurtso 320,” or “Blurtsearean literature and the end of Enlightenment.” At least I hope not, because I don’t want to be famous. If I were famous, I wouldn’t have a moment to myself. People would be bothering me everywhere I went, even in the library, and I’d never be able to get started on my Shakespeare paper, or my Blurtso paper, and I’d really better get started, because it’s due tomorrow.