Emily Dickinson did not reside here, where leaves kiss shadows and eaves whisper about summer to the remains of grit that gets washed away in the rain of cloud convictions. Yeats never told her about the window that looks back at the reflected trees. So why is it that they seem to be waving at the camera in a poetic frenzy of twisting line breaks, like an uneven stanza, a stratification of emotional confusion ?
Here are Pareidolia Parasols
for high wire walkers
roof repair workers
in the bright sun,
as rays of certainty hurl down upon their heads,
with the verity of gravity’s grasp.
Unwanted facts, quickly approaching –
from the shouting horizon –
brings on vertigo in existential deniers .
Too much emotional distortion
rises in the air,
as the refractive index
causes truth to bend
when it enters and exists in opinionated thoughts –
Welcome to the Asemic Cinema, where opening shots& titles tell a different story from the one passing before your eyes. This week’s classic comes from a time & place that once was/will be. It is a re-write of The Runaway Bus (1954), a British Mystery-Comedy – please note that the sub-titles have been deconstructed to find alternative meaning.
“People who have made no attempt to educate themselves live in a kind of dissolving phantasmagoria of the world, that is, they completely forget what happened last Tuesday. A politician can promise them anything, and they will not remember later what he has promised.”
In 1961, The National Film Board of Canada produced Arthur Lipsett‘s first film, Very Nice, Very Nice. It looks behind the business-as-usual face we put on life and shows anxieties we want to forget. It is made of dozens of pictures that seem familiar, with fragments of speech heard in passing. It evokes a world swamped with information and imagery but barren of meaning and filled with longing.
We become what we behold. We shape our tools and then our tools shape us.