The Professor wanted to show you loyal readers something shiny. While the Professor is normally a stunning photographer, something was amiss, and the shiny object remained elusive.
Too much shaking eliminated the shiny thing from the photo.
Caught a bit of it, but still too shaky. Be careful taking photos on boats, Readers.
Artsy, but no statue.
Ah, well. Let's look at the Woolworth Building. It's lovely and ornate, if not shiny.
Wait, what's that?
The Professor, who puts on the ill-fitting Philosopher Hat at times, tries to extract meaning out of this. Does it mean sometimes you'll get what you want if you just stop trying? Does it mean that if you want them enough, God will give you shiny things? Does it represent the fact that all we are ever really left with are accidentally captured semi-accurate reflections, even of things that seem blindingly important at the time? Let's squeeze every last possible bit of meaning out of it, Readers, until all that remains is a small blurry bit of a photo of a reflection of something that was really shiny in person, at one time, somewhere.
13 comments:
Professor, just find a metaphor that makes you comfortable, even pleased with yourself, the world, and then stop thinking.
Hmmmm. Is that intellectual laziness or self-protection in a difficult world?
Both.
Fuck meaning.
I want more yellow penises and less fucking meaning.
Yeah, Professor, knock it off. You don't want to look back on this stage of the workshop and cringe, do you?
Keep your thoughtful side to yourself and out of the Workshop, professor. It has no business being here. Don't forget, this is the Internet.
Think of the Wayback machine, Professor. Your control is an illusion.
It's just a little philosophy, gang. It can't hurt me. Seems like it's hurting you, though, so I'll try to stop.
I think any caption that refers to shaking the camera is a good caption. Self-referencing one's shakiness with a camera implies lying in bed screaming at night, something I'm very good at. For example, last night, albeit in a dream, Matt Damon tried to kill me and stabbed me in my leg. Also in the dream he also shot at me from the back of a moving IH Scout from about two blocks away, but he missed me.
I can't believe you got the reflection in the window. Genius!
No, not genius ... accident. Such is the nature of genius, at least for the Professor.
Matt Damon is a notoriously bad shot.
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