Merry Christmas, said Blurtso.
Merry Christmas, said Harlan.
Wow, said Blurtso, a tin of chocolate!
Wow, said Harlan, a can of whipped cream!
More whipped cream? said Harlan.
Don’t mind if I do, said Blurtso.
What are all these? said Harlan. They’re books, said Blurtso. Books? said Harlan. Yes, said Blurtso, I used the money I had left over from my school grant to publish my novel. Your novel? said Harlan. Yes, said Blurtso, Blurtseau Lundif – Corsaire Extraordinaire. How many copies did you print? said Harlan. Only five thousand, said Blurtso.
To eat, or not to eat,
—that is the question—
whether ‘tis sounder for the stomach
to suffer the pricks and pangs
of outrageous hunger and resist,
—and by resisting, shrink this swollen shape—
or to indulge, and then sleep,
for after that indulgence, the sleep that’s
sure to follow spawns decrease of increase,
and makes of energy lethargy’s fool;
to eat, and sleep, and fatten as we dream!
Ay, there’s the rub; for in that fatness of form
what dangers may lie—the
hypertensive extinction, the diabetic
demise—must give us pause to consider
the view of a sugary grave;
yet what burro would not exchange
a future pleasure aloof,
for a present pleasure ahoof?
‘Tis a consumption devoutly to be wished,
when one of his stomach might its quietus make
with a baked pumpkin!
Thus do cravings make cowards of us all,
sugaring over the dieting hue of resolution
with sweet-scented cinnamon
and graham-cracker crust, and with this,
best intentions turn awry, losing,
in the act of consuming, the name of action.
Sitting in the woods can be suspenseful, said Blurtso. Suspenseful? said Pablo. Yes, said Blurtso, as if something is about to happen. What do you expect to happen? said Pablo. I don’t know, said Blurtso, it’s as if the continual sound of the creek, the breeze on the ears, the deep alterations of light and dark, are all waiting for something… maybe a change in the wind or a change in the sky, a sudden downpour or wild animal, maybe a cougar come to drink at the stream… something dramatic is going to happen. COME AND GET IT!!! called Bonny from the cabin. FRESH SCONES AND PUMPKIN PIE!!!
Hmmm, thought Blurtso, another paperclip. You go months and months without seeing one, then you see them everywhere you turn. I wonder if they’re being discarded as the world goes paperless? And soon they will only be a symbol, an icon for attachments, virtual clips attaching virtual expressions in a virtual world… like so many other forms of attachment.
Hmm, thought Blurtso, would you look at that… a paperclip. I wonder how it got here? I’ve never seen Harlan use one, and I don’t think I ever have. It’s got a nice shape. I wonder who made it? Maybe it was a famous artist. I’ve never seen one in a gallery, so I guess collectors don’t call them art. I wonder how they decide? If I made a paperclip, I would call it art. It’s very symmetrical. And elegant. I wish I had some papers to clip. I suppose I could clip some hay…