sense.art

March 3rd, 2015

Make with the clicky to make with the giffy.

alice.confusing

alice.make.sense

alice.nonsense

AND YET:

alice.EVERYTHING.NONSENSE

funny.art

June 18th, 2007
  • Q: What’s brown and sticky?
  • A: A stick.

While I think this is the Best Joke of all Time, and my fiancee
contends that is not even a joke (“because it is not funny”*), it
continues to strike me on a visceral/cognitive level. There’s the
schoolboy-glee of the imagined-yet-frustrated response, coupled
with the ontological insistence that an object has (must have?) itself
as a property.

And perhaps it is more of a suggestion. Could a stick not be sticky?
Could a chair lack chairness? My fiancee would readily agree that —
if this is a funny — it lacks funniness.

*does a joke need to be funny, any more than a piece of art be beautiful? Is funny an essential property of joke?

gimme.art

August 8th, 2005

Gimme a ticket to Burningman!

hippies selling driftwood and smelling of patchoulli

hippies selling driftwood and smelling of patchoulli

Hello beautiful community Burningman! I did not buy a ticket still to Burningman and good, rather sincerely am shortly I a little (you know, add cars, costumes and that whole this moved wasteland material above!) in addition, then I thought that Burningman is really not a very cool experience, if I am not there thus who to Burningman to go would want, if I were not there? I do not mean me!

On Saturday night we burn the man. Please so whole you beautifully, gorgeous peoples Burningman out there, hear give you mine pretext and you me a ticket… please? Or I am forced to sell driftwood on your front Sidewalk!

Which I over burning man dear, is to be expired able, dancing with 9 a.m.. I have considered that threads on e-playa recently… one, where people exchange stories over, which them Nichtbrenner over burning one explains part of the discussion, on which, centered to explain a trying, why we to the fire to go. I confronted this question to more than my portion of times. Up to a certain degree I fit the form. I am a Adventurer. I love clearance. I have an additional drilling in my head, of that the mandatory gold volume of dangles. At the first volatile view I announce into the burning man mass rather well. Still if my universitygraduating category would have had the precaution for selecting, I would have been a little probably selected probably ", over to burn ". It is not my appearance, which educates me an improbable burner, it is my paradigm. Prepare your hearts for an impact, group. I am borned again a Christian.

Even more strangely (or some even worse would say), I am a minister… am been for years. I formed it my life and will continue to thus do. On playa we are at the grace of the God (some it would say but would remind the universe, that… I had a paradigm). Some of us spiders accomplish dance music, bend staff, inform Yoga, lead Meditationen, give Massagen, wash hair of the people or feet, March in the parades with fire. Others of us contribute, by working within the burning man organization with the DPW, mass guard, lamp lighters, ons-call service or, Rangers. Rank ring is my art. We find creative solutions to the inevitable conflicts, which develop in a population of thousands. There is no purchase or selling. Which we cause, we release. Being selfly-sufficient, we have to be divided enough. We are a community of the strangers, and we more nevertheless are like family than some families. ", "we say and mean welcome house with one another it. They are to be celebrated here.

On Saturday night we burn the man. While the prozession begins, the circle forms, and the man ignites, you experiences, which, too, is somewhat personal somewhat on is somewhat new, which you never felt before. It is epiphany, it is original, it is newborn. And it is completely individual.

Please so whole you beautifully, gorgeous peoples Burningman out there, hear give you mine pretext and you me a ticket… please? Or I am forced to sell driftwood on your front Sidewalk!

On Saturday night we burn the man.

UPDATE 2012.05.29: The original tribe.net listing is gone, so I don’t know what came from there. The picture, I’m fairly certain, came from a friend who was thoroughly irritated at hippies selling driftwood in front of her house. I think, maybe, I markov’d a posting-text with some other text? I no longer have any idea…

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