Tag: why

“Blurtso longs for Lizzy” (III)

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I haven’t seen Lizzy since she was limping across the lawn. And that was two months ago. I wonder what happened to her? I wonder if she quit school, or graduated, or if she was only a tourist who was on campus for a week, and then went home? I suppose she’s out there somewhere. I wonder what she’s doing right now? I wonder if her hoof has healed? It’s hard enough to limp around when the weather is nice, but it’s worse in the snow. I wonder if she’s alone, or with someone special? Wherever she is, I hope she’s happy… and her hoof has healed.

“Blurtso looks at the snow” (XVII)

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I wonder what people did in New England before television and Facebook? I guess they read books to pass the slow winter hours… or wrote letters… or practiced the piano…

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“Blurtseau Lundif – Corsaire Extraordinaire” (XII)

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“Another day,” thought Blurtseau, “and another night. The king is dead, and those who killed the king are dead, and Napoleon consolidates his power while those who would kill him wait in the wings. And the once-full moon that illuminated my vainglorious victory now wanes with a warbling light. Tomorrow the fighting will begin anew, the British, French, Spanish, Dutch, German, Italian, Sardinian, Greek generals… and all the world spins with the bones of the living and the bones of the dead, so many dead, those who pursued a borrowed or inherited dream, white bones in the soil, white bones in the surf of the sea, bones as white as the flickering tail of the waning moon, sparking and submerging among the breakers, flickering water reflection of fleeting sun echoed upon half-eaten moon, half-eaten moon half-eclipsed by the globe it now reflects down upon… half-eaten glow that grows dimmer each day… until the moon, the day, the night, and all our blood-urgent exploits fall dark upon the darkness of the sea, and vanish in the low laving sound of the waves eating the rocks with their dance of disintegration.

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“And when the moon goes black, the stars will mark my path to Montecristo where Echo, alone on her island, watches the same silver flicker on a different surface of the same sea. And the light that flickered in her heart? Has it fallen prey to the same dance of deterioration? Will I find the moon already extinguished in the sea of her breast? Eclipsed by the vainglorious sphere that was my haste to depart? The misguided course of this star-crossed corsaire pursuing a sinking star? Yesterday’s hero is the dark side of the earth facing the dark side of the moon, is darkness double, two-faced night’s faceless faces, an echo of existence which touches no ear, a shout across an infinite expanse, an unreciprocated smile, a source without destination, a word from the heart that never arrives.”

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“My heart is an echo of the disintegration
of the heart of the universe
that penetrates and disintegrates my own heart.”

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“Blurtso stops for refreshment”

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Hmm, thought Blurtso, would you look at that… an abandoned tavern. A place where firelight once flickered on the walls and ceiling, where animals and people stopped for refreshment, exchanged words and glances, then continued on their way.

“Weohryant University” (XXVI) – How 101

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Welcome, said Pablo, to “How 101.” Today’s question is, “How are you?”
I’m fine, said Chelsea.
So am I, said Morton.
Me too, said Emma Lou.
I’m a little thirsty, said Frank.
So am I, said Glouster.
Now that you mention it, said Morton, I’m a little hungry.
So am I, said Frank.
I’ve got an itch behind my left ear, said Chelsea.
My right front paw is a little sore, said Emma Lou.
Do you think my tail is too short? said Morton.
My feet are too big, said Glouster.
Your tail is longer than mine, said Chelsea.
My quills aren’t very shiny, said Emma Lou.
My feathers are shiny, said Frank, but my beak is too sharp.
I wish I could swim, said Morton.
I wish I could fly, said Chelsea.
I sink like a stone, said Morton.
I float, said Emma Lou, even when I try to dive.
I think I have a sty, said Frank, in my left eye.
My paw is sore, said Emma Lou.
My back is stiff, said Morton.
One of my feathers is split, said Frank.
My left ear is bothering me, said Chelsea.
I suppose we’re all one day closer to death, said Glouster, than we were yesterday.
Yes, said Emma Lou, that’s true.
What was the question? said Morton.
The question, said Glouster, was “How are you?”
I’m fine, said Morton.
So am I, said Chelsea.
Me too, said Emma Lou.
I’m a little thirsty, said Frank.
So am I, said Glouster.

“Blurtso makes a resolution”

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It’s a new year… I guess I’d better make a resolution. Let’s see… “this year I resolve to…” hmm… “I resolve…” hmm… what does that mean…? To be “resolved,” to be “determined,” to be “unyielding in one’s purpose,” to be “intransigent,” “inveterate,” “obdurate,” and “inflexible.” Hmm, I don’t really like that. I think being flexible is the key to happiness. Of course, flexibility implies rigidity, that is, something to be “flexible” about. Hmm… what I need is a resolution that is both rigid and flexible… I know!… “This year I resolve… to be less resolved.”

“Blurtso wakes before dawn”

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It’s unsettling to get up before dawn, when it’s still dark and the barn and the yard and the neighborhood are quiet. It’s like I’m the only living thing on the planet. It’s hard to believe others are waking to the same darkness, seeking refuge in artificial light, bathing and dressing… getting ready for the day they trust will arrive.

“Blurtso reads the morning paper”

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Hmm, said Blurtso, licking his hoof and turning the page of the morning paper. Let’s see who did what when and why… love hate, give take, future past, slow fast, here there, then now, what when, who how, win lose, live die, settle choose, where why, fortune fame, pardon blame, smoke choke, weep joke, his hers, yours mine, rain shine, sad fine… rolls are fresh and the coffee’s free, la dee da dee da dee dee.