|
epitome of incomprehensibility
|
Hooded adulthood revisits young teenagerhood in sketchbooks, interprets blood-dripping calculators as a symbol of mourning for 9/11, via the alleged joke 9/11 = 0.818181...
the dots also, perhaps, a symbol of her terror of the infinite, or of the infinite encroaching impossibly on the finite, something the Christian school inadvertently threw in her face:
"I could sing of your love forever..."
"Joyful, joyful we destroy thee," she raged in return. But the book of Revelation provided an odd comfort, or at least a way of avoiding her schoolwork.
In eighth_grade_reunion, everyone is dust sometimes, not only the late teacher. But Madeleine L'Engle says dolphins feel like resilient pewter, and maybe the grey of the stones is that too.
Back to the sketchbook, where the Statue of Liberty wears a crown of thorns: a protest against the Iraq war. Sometimes she holds a dripping ice cream cone instead of a torch.
The boy with a calculator mask, a lightning bolt on the display screen, is meant to parody that school's demonization of a certain book series. His name is Harry Packard, half Hewlett-Packard and half Harry Potter. At first he's the illegitimate son of Osama bin Laden and J.K. Rowling (I wish I remembered the story of where they met!!)
Later he kills his classmates Hypatia Newton and Ronny...Fortran? Something vaguely tekky (it'd be spelled that way, pardon the annoyingness). One survivor is Little Mac, who is half Apple Computer and half A Clockwork Orange, although less evil: he gets brainwashed to accept P.C. as his Own Personal Computer at some point.
Switching gears, the picture of a young woman crying blood is from another story, Telewa_the_blue_jewel, and not about statues of the Virgin Mary, though maybe I'd heard that sort of legend somewhere.
|
220227
|
