Tag: cartoon bubbles

#106 … Yorick’s answer …

Published on by herbeaton

 

IMG_0001

 

 

 

 

Last weeks riddle answer – cartoon bubbles – what else would you think? Don’t you love ’em.

 

 

 

 

 

They carry the snippy-snippet word load, the work of thoughts from olden days, the morning pulp-print news and funnies. The bargain discounts, news, and obituaries all yellowed into past-time; but thankfully the cartoon bubbles hold ponderings and blunt statements, new for your perusal. And occasionally a bit of real humor.IMG_0001

But they lack the graceful, lyrical, thought carriers of Yorick’s times – banderoles – glorious gold and silken word captures in Latin, Greek, and oligarchy French (never sniveling crude and vulgar jokes).  But alas (“alas” is a wonderful word for exasperating times don’t you think [?] … alas), but alas, we can’t read or understand Latin, Greek, and Frenchy-fied words.

So maybe there were some unseemly lines, some dash-out bits of adolescent smart-aleck.

But now it is best, into the foreseeable future, to put the snideness in a cartoon bubble.

 

#73…Considering Yorick, floods, & cartoon bubbles…

Published on by herbeaton

100_0363

Floods, they come and go, usually taking with them the fallen.  But some of the fallen become embedded; anchoring the edges of ancient and present times, and, this is to surmise … a place for fools.

img_0001

IMG_0002Yorick has been missing for awhile, a professional fool’s skeleton, medieval jester, princely tragedy’s companion; lived, died, and resurrected – by virtue of art. He has rested awhile at the river contemplating another apt comment or juggling trick to awaken the witless to their folly, and nudge them to better behavior.IMG_0005

The jester’s goal…(jesters are congenitally about Joy and Truth)…conjure an insightful smart-aleck one-liner pointing to the consequence of hubris; war, rape, hunger, blood-letting that ends with the onset of malaise, the misconstruing of fun with joy.

Yorick’s perceptive comments, and clever juggling, are largely out-of-date to political celebrity royals. Flat cartoon bubbles are the vehicles for modern times; jokeish profundity in snappy little tidbits…perhaps.

Inflated, cartoon balloons could spread ideas far afield, if the winds blow right; still, there are limits to letting wisdom float free. IMG_0001

 

 

Were cartoon bubbles Medieval, they would have been in danger from below (an oligarchy’s crossbows), now they are probably doomed by drones from all directions.

 

IMG_0004

 

 

Considering that, Yorick’s balloons were sending variants of airy thoughts (ideas about peace and harmony, brief warnings about violence,  treason, and treachery); and, considering that the Temporary Museum of Enfant Terrible Culture hosts many artistics from other ages, an antique form was re-construed – banderoles – those script holders from medieval manuscripts and the late circus.

 

 

 

 

To that end Yorick conscripted theatricals to perform, but, as it is;

IMG_0001

the winds still blow and jokes (especially dry, witty ones) don’t translate.

Apparently presentation means are variable, even if similar, as is the cliche’ message. It is difficult to deliver the wit that accumulates into Joy.

Yorick retreats. The default settings for amusing present fools are digital scores, ticker tapes, and virtual tragedies scrolling the screen edges for the emotives: folly is  Fun.

IMG_0001.jpgYorick harbors on a long-embedded log and illuminates (passé) banderoles; thoughts of recurring floods and remaining fools.

#45…comic bubbles…

Published on by herbeaton

dcs_1631

We have just had a mixed media poetry performance ( or endless vitriolic political rant with celebratory cliches ), here in the Temporary Museum of Enfant Terrible Culture.  The poet just wanted to add some colorful beauty to surround and lift the words. Apparently not so elevated as to be pushed into awe, just some run-of-the-mill beauty.  But the bubbles were destroyed; there was little hope, they wouldn’t quite stay in the air, sorta just crashed, unnumbered.

After the first thousand attempts, there should have been an outpouring of communal joy.  The happiness of seeing the not-so-good get smashed, and then the succeeding attempts;  watching a human ( poetic to be sure ) enclose words that resonate, sing and harmonize, and pulsate enlivening other words.  That shoulda been a party, it would unite.  It seems like a happy haptic public poetic sequence, but we missed it. There should have been a holiday marking the thousandth failure. But it is so long ago and didn’t seem then like a notable event, and now no ceremony is likely.

img_0002

Yorick, who ponders both the comic and the tragic, would be happy to help the poet.  He knows that first there is pain (more than a smashed finger), sometimes then, clawing; that inability to reach beauty, not to mention Awe ( the overwhelming).  But anyhow, there is pain, then the reality, something has to be done,  then the hope that something may improve the originating pain, then the effort (scribbling), money (if lucky ), then stuff, the manipulation, arriving at – the imperfections.  Followed by maybe enclosing all in modern media bubbles,  for safe keeping.

Yorick, being born of “olde”, doesn’t quite get the isolation, no matter the utility.

The bubble may be the modernist’s  most significant enterprise.  That ability to enclose things, quotes, economic plans, political slogans; separating deeds and words.  Bubbles, bubbles make people happy, don’t they?  But bubbles, real bubbles, happy bubbles don’t need utility: they just are –  floating away in the breeze.

Some bubbles don’t even have air, they are built, big expletive markers helping the poetic anarchist emote.img_0001

They replace having a touchable community in completing the poets deeds.

Next Saturday we begin to celebrate something easier, the Season.