Interresting. And yet strangely inspiring.

I'm not sure why, but I giggled throughout the entire thing.

That's actually quite convincing and something I can relate to.

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- Time traveller dies tragically. (1967 - 1608)

I'm not talking to the trees any more. Ponderous bores, they never commit themselves to an opinion on anything. Ask a tree what it wants for lunch and it will dither until after tea time. Engage a tree on the topic of Norman Lamont's eyebrows, and it will rustle ineffectually until you change the subject to something less controversial. I'm finding increasingly that the most effective way to commune with trees is not in fact by taking lots of drugs and not washing for a month, but via the medium of a chainsaw. Plus, the twiggy bastards always win at scrabble.

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Mucho kudos for mentioning Mr Lamont there

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Yes... No... That is to say... Ah.


Oh, and incidentally: ~thatwritinglark

I suppose you people speak in terms of contra-diction, a language unto itself.

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"...the highest forms of art are those which impose a kind of harmony and order upon the greatest possibile number of factors." - Aldous Huxley

How witty.

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Yes... No... That is to say... Ah.


Oh, and incidentally: ~thatwritinglark

Oh, not really. Just pliably obvious. The malleable languages yeild in the strangest of places.

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"...the highest forms of art are those which impose a kind of harmony and order upon the greatest possibile number of factors." - Aldous Huxley

Also, a small thing to think upon... The traditional method of Japanese art. Under the teaching of a master, the student would contribute art to his master's catalogue, refining his craft and techniques all the while crediting his master with the work. It was until the student had refined his own craft did he release material of his own insignia, his own trademarks and his own style. It wasn't until he had emerged from the shadow of what he had learnt from another and found his inner voice that he would credit himself with his work. Or so I recall.

I've always found it funny that the followers of Dada-ism (and those that follow it) generally take themselves seriously enough in trying not to be serious. Pray that you don't have to pray against such a fate for Contra-realism, it seems like a futile idea. All I can say is, really, at least you're not Ayn Rand.

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"...the highest forms of art are those which impose a kind of harmony and order upon the greatest possibile number of factors." - Aldous Huxley