Today's entry will be short because I didn't have very much time and plus I don't care about writing anymore. In truth, I still care a lot about writing; but I'm trying to stop caring so much: I'm trying to switch over to caring more about earthly treasures.
Now here's another page from my book of 299 Drawing Prompts. (The previous page appeared with yesterday's entry.) The prompt for this present oilpainting was "Nutcracker".
Dear diary,
I just finished listening to an interview on the radio where this lady was asking this youth why he was so offensive. It turns out that the youth had created offensive audiovisuals that portrayed humans doing offensive things. For instance, this youth, in a self-described “attempt to be funny”, recorded himself using vulgar language, and he punctuated his speech with pictures of semi-clad river-nymphs. And they were shooting lightnings at each other underwater. So the woman who was interviewing the youth said:
“I am on your side, ultimately, because I like you and I agree with your politics; but I must say: I abhor the fact that you flashed pictures of buxom females on-screen to illustrate the points of your dissertation.”
And the youth answered:
“What’s wrong with the visible portrayal of goddesses? Should I have figleaft them in the fashion of stealth torpedoes or invisible missiles, so that the anti-lightning cannons owned by their enemies can be deprived of their special purpose? Did I commit the sin of idolatry, by fashioning a statue in the shape of our LORD? No! for the LORD God looks like Adam — didn’t the preacher Bryan Ray prove as much in his recent sermon, ‘The Cymbal of Cymbals’? These Rubenesque divinities (by the way, why is there only this single adjective Rubenesque in the United Statesian language, and no healthy alternative, so that if one wishes to characterize something as having to do with voluptuous female nudes, one must refer strictly to the works of the Flemish painter Peter Paul Ruben, as opposed to, say, the French artist Pierre-Auguste Renoir? my point is that the United Statesian vocab should permit the existence of a coinage like RENOIResque as a synonym superior to Rubenesque; for I would rather have begun this present sentence as follows: These Renoiresque divinities...) are not gods but goddesses, therefore they do not infringe upon the LORD’s supermale copyright; plus I clipped them out of a magazine: I did not even make them.”
& the interviewer said: “I am against the objectification of women.”
& the youth answered: “Anything that dislikes objectification took a wrong turn when it decided to become an object.”
And the interviewer said, “But did we choose to be born?”
And the youth said, “Indeed we might have; but it seems that many of us made a pre-birth mistake and checked the wrong box for certain desired attributes, which is why there are corrective medical procedures in place that allow for the descendants of slaveowners to masquerade as the descendants of those their ancestors enslaved.”
And the interviewer said, quoting Saint Paul (II Corinthians 11:13), “Such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of our Christ!”
And the youth said, “God forbid that any saint transform herself into an apostle of Christ.”
And the woman said, again quoting St. Paul (ibid., 11:14), “And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel.”
And the youth answered: “God forbid that any satan transform into an angel. For it is impossible for those who were once enlightened, and have tasted of the bliss of poetry, and were made partakers of the Holy Ghost, and have delighted in the enjoyments of genius and the powers of futurity, if they shall fall away, to turn them from free-thot back towards improvement so-called; seeing they goddamn afresh the Devil’s advocate.” (Hebrews 6:4-6)
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And the tête-à-tête between this lady and her youth continued in a similar and increasingly humane manner, but I don’t want to dig myself any deeper than the present height (or depth, if you prefer), because I am tired; therefore I will plant my Renoiresque soul right here in the earth, within this crystalline flowerbox, and salute you sincerely: “Until we meet again.”
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