tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661194.post115272233094280103..comments2023-12-26T22:01:53.402-05:00Comments on The Synchronicity of Indeterminacy: Indeterminacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11112417911577798263noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661194.post-1153484254801109342006-07-21T08:17:00.000-04:002006-07-21T08:17:00.000-04:00Averagedrinker: Thank you for your first comment h...Averagedrinker: Thank you for your first comment here (I believe). I intended the story to be somewhat disturbing, describing a truly unnatural relationship. I don't identify with Andre, though I probably identify slightly with the narrator, as he and I are both hobby photographers. I think there may be something slightly arrogant in Andre, when he describes how his models did not meet his ideal. It's possibly a wild variation of the story of Dr. Frankenstein, crossing the line and playing God. That would seem to justify his (Andre's) fate. But I don't really know what went on here. Theses characters took on a life of their own.<BR/><BR/>The Clown: I enjoy imagining and wondering about the photos I find. But day dreams and reality are two separate things. Andre lost that distinction. Thanks for sharing your insights from the story. I know that each person reading will have different impressions. I thought that this story was somehow related to the story you contributed for the previous photo: an obsession in which reality and memory could no longer be distinguished.<BR/><BR/>Frances: Thank you for stopping by and commenting. The Clown's story was truly amazing. And I'm glad you liked mine, too, against such competition! We had completely different impressions of the photo. To me there was nothing unreal or unnatural about the pose. For me it was so real, that I somehow got the idea to contrast that in the story.Indeterminacyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11112417911577798263noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661194.post-1153451789307337022006-07-20T23:16:00.000-04:002006-07-20T23:16:00.000-04:00Frances bo bancess: Thanks. It's Really very sweet...Frances bo bancess: Thanks. It's Really very sweet of you to remember the name I had longed it would have. Smile.The Clownhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12159265613740566755noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661194.post-1153387483402013782006-07-20T05:24:00.000-04:002006-07-20T05:24:00.000-04:00when i first looked at this picture i wondered who...when i first looked at this picture i wondered whose hand is proping up her head. it seems at a too odd-of-an-angle to be the same as her own right arm. so it kind of makes sense that she is not really real, a pixil-ated master piece. or she could just me more flexible than i. awesome story indie. the clown's 'the world' just blew me away. it's an incredible read.Frances bo bancesshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00764627067116733299noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661194.post-1153375107460262312006-07-20T01:58:00.000-04:002006-07-20T01:58:00.000-04:00Your story just made me realize that photographs a...Your story just made me realize that photographs are three dimensional.... and the third dimension that's just like the girl in your story - it doesn't exist, is the longest to cover.... or, perhaps, recover.... thanks for the lesson.... but I'm just as afraid as you to use it. Smile.The Clownhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12159265613740566755noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661194.post-1153262081338218162006-07-18T18:34:00.000-04:002006-07-18T18:34:00.000-04:00> My niece who is 11 has been going into the chats...> <I>My niece who is 11 has been going into the chats as 14,</I><BR/>> <I>but I think her parents gave her chat-verbot.</I><BR/><BR/>So she's been talking to herself? :-D<BR/><BR/>Which is different from <I>chat-verbotin,</I> and all the more reason why anyone would lie about their age.The Mushroomhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13466433750698090728noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661194.post-1153123755560531132006-07-17T04:09:00.000-04:002006-07-17T04:09:00.000-04:00Psychobabble: I'm happy you saw something in the p...Psychobabble: I'm happy you saw something in the photo. I am not always sure whether I am the only one who thought something was there.<BR/>Now I'm away from the Internet until next Friday, when I'll post the next photo. When I'm back home, I'll catch up with all your blogs.Indeterminacyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11112417911577798263noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661194.post-1153080310795279402006-07-16T16:05:00.000-04:002006-07-16T16:05:00.000-04:00The Clown: There are many wonderful inspirations a...The Clown: There are many wonderful inspirations and ideas in this story. A fable, a fantasy, a parable, a mystery all in one. The clown is often the wiser of us all. You're a master. Thanks again for sharing.<BR/><BR/>Antonia: I have Tucholsky stuff with me and just have to type it in when I get some more computer time.<BR/><BR/>Doug: O.K.<BR/><BR/>Lynsey: I think that's right. Most of our modern religions revolve around money. Somehow I never got into Freud or Adler, but I think Jung is still cool.<BR/><BR/>Mushroom: My niece who is 11 has been going into the chats as 14, but I think her parents gave her chat-verbot. I think the new trend in the chats is to give your age as 100.Indeterminacyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11112417911577798263noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661194.post-1152929989869220602006-07-14T22:19:00.000-04:002006-07-14T22:19:00.000-04:00Marissa wondered why she was the only 14 year old ...Marissa wondered why she was the only 14 year old girl in the #teenlove IRC channel who actually <I>was</I> a 14 year old girl. All the other 'kids' were adult males, when you got to know them. She sighed and pensively watched the dialog evolve on her screen, thinking "it's no wonder women are in the minority in technology -- it's so hard to find a real girl online, so it quickly becomes boring." She typed her usual "hugglez <3" closing, went back to the #linux and #microbiology channels for a few more minutes to renew her faith in technology being good, then signed off for the night.The Mushroomhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13466433750698090728noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661194.post-1152927349088493232006-07-14T21:35:00.000-04:002006-07-14T21:35:00.000-04:00Indie and Antonia, thanks for the compliments.... ...Indie and Antonia, thanks for the compliments.... I wasn't sure if any of you would ever like it.... Keep smiling.The Clownhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12159265613740566755noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661194.post-1152916830532212662006-07-14T18:40:00.000-04:002006-07-14T18:40:00.000-04:00“Yep, he also said, Religion is an illusion and it...“Yep, he also said, <I>Religion is an illusion and it derives its strength from the fact that it falls in with our instinctual desires.</I>” <BR/><BR/>Jin leaned forward. “Freud said that? I get it. So after humanity tested the existence of God with World War I, and completely proved his non-existence with World War II, there was a gaping void; and the entire multi-billion dollar psycho-babble industry neatly filled it. No wonder these wankers try to drape it in scientific respectability.”<BR/><BR/>“He also said, <I>No one who, like me, conjures up the most evil of those half-tamed demons that inhabit the human breast, and seeks to wrestle with them, can expect to come through the struggle unscathed.</I>”<BR/><BR/>“Wow – very ‘deep and meaningful’. What a great father-figure for the psycho-charlatans. Truly, you can see why he was the Dan Brown of his day. Now, let’s think about this – we have to come up with a religion based on the known, but just off the edge of the familiar, with mothers and fathers…money, lots of money…hmmm…”Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661194.post-1152914351420073422006-07-14T17:59:00.000-04:002006-07-14T17:59:00.000-04:00I.O.U.I.O.U.Doug The Unahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04753071669562594194noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661194.post-1152913689091495602006-07-14T17:48:00.000-04:002006-07-14T17:48:00.000-04:00Teach me blindness is something wonderful to think...Teach me blindness is something wonderful to think the whole day about,like listening to silence....and wnderful eyes has the girl...<BR/>hope life has been kind to you, Indie.....maybe one day we'll get that Tucholskything finsihed...*https://www.blogger.com/profile/05680450955867041830noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661194.post-1152775766244092552006-07-13T03:29:00.000-04:002006-07-13T03:29:00.000-04:00I'm awestruck. That's an incredible inspiration yo...I'm awestruck. That's an incredible inspiration you shared here. I time now online to write down all my impressions - I#ll just say, there must be something about this photograph. My story is probably just as long, four handwritten pages.Indeterminacyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11112417911577798263noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661194.post-1152755535361217772006-07-12T21:52:00.000-04:002006-07-12T21:52:00.000-04:00I realized I was going blind for the first time wh...I realized I was going blind for the first time when I started seeing things in the dark…. Things that couldn’t have existed….. Like a figurine of love, a dead eagle on my window-sill and myself in the mirror. It was a matter of time until I lost my sight.<BR/><BR/>When light came back on earth I went searching for a blind man. I found a woman, instead.<BR/><BR/>“Teach me blindness”, I told her. And thus, in a grey, cloudy afternoon our lessons began.<BR/><BR/>“Blindness is nothing but an alternative to the world you live in”, she told me. “You believe your eyesight is the best gift you have….. But you see, you never know what infinite options you have. Your eyesight is a limitation to your pursuit of these options.”<BR/><BR/>“What do you mean?”<BR/><BR/>“Eyes attach properties to objects. Blindness removes them. There are no particularities in blindness. As a blind person, you can see anything in as many ways as you wish. Tell me about your experience when you felt for the first time that you were going blind.”<BR/><BR/>I told her about the figurine of love, the dead eagle and myself in the mirror.<BR/><BR/>“Do you remember seeing them before your attacks of blindness? See, that’s what blindness gives you: Freedom of sight.”<BR/><BR/>When I returned home that night her words kept returning back. I remembered the number of times she used the word “see” in her words. It sounded pretty awkward in the words of a blind woman. But I couldn’t understand her purpose of using the word: Was it a mockery or enlightenment? I couldn’t understand the meanings of the things I saw in the attacks of my blindness….. Or if they had any meaning at all. Only my complete blindness could help me find answers to those questions.<BR/><BR/>The next few days, I kept waiting eagerly for blindness.<BR/><BR/>But the woman came back to me before blindness did. I told her that I was confused.<BR/><BR/>“Well, all of us are, sometimes”, she said taking my hand in hers.<BR/><BR/>I found she was looking into my eyes, constantly, without her eyes blinking even for a second. It took me some time to realize that she was blind. But aren’t blind people meant to see better than people gifted with eyesight? Wasn’t she seeing into me much more clearly than any normal person would do?<BR/><BR/>“Are you in love with me?” I decided to ask her.<BR/><BR/>She left my hand as I asked her the question. And moved a little farther away from me.<BR/><BR/>“What makes you think so?” she asked, a little concerned.<BR/><BR/>“You were looking into my eyes in such a strange way.”<BR/><BR/>Even though she was standing turning her back towards me, I could see her leaving a deep breath.<BR/><BR/>“Maybe, you should stop imagining things.” She said, as she tried to leave in a hurry.<BR/><BR/>“Why are you going away?”<BR/><BR/>“Because….” She shouted; then, fell silent. At last, in a much calmer tone she said, “because it’s fearful how you….” She fell silent, once again.<BR/><BR/>I waited for her to finish. But she never did.<BR/><BR/>“….Is it how I see into you? Is that what you were trying to say?” I asked.<BR/><BR/>“Not me, but everyone….. everything.” She continued, “Let me tell you a secret – We can see ourselves in mirrors. You don’t exactly need to go blind for that. It’s true that blindness assures freedom. It’s true that blindness is much, much more powerful than eyesight. Blindness in never dark, as the popular belief goes, but is capable of colors unimaginable by a common man. Only blindness gives you access to spaces intangible….. But you see it’s very, very difficult to come in terms with the fact that you are blind.”<BR/><BR/>“But I don’t think it would be difficult for me to come to terms with the fact when I do go blind. You’ve already taught me so much.” I said, hoping that I was able to understand what she tried to say.<BR/><BR/>“No. It’s you who taught me all these.”<BR/><BR/>Unable to understand I kept looking into her eyes, vaguely.<BR/><BR/>“The doctors did indeed, find you blind from the very day that you were born”, she completed.<BR/><BR/>And she reminded me what the world always would, that I cannot go blind ever again. <BR/><BR/>[I started thinking from one point and then reached another.... and I'm not sure right now if that story connects with the photograph any longer. Given a chance I'd like to name it 'THE WORLD'..... but really that's irrevelant. (This keeps getting longer. My sincere apologies to all posters who had to scroll down by miles to post). By the way, Indie, I thought that last story of yours was excellent. Keep breathing and bring us the fragrance of the places you've been to.The Clownhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12159265613740566755noreply@blogger.com