eisen lab (science) art show
Post on 17-Aug-2015
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What is, and was, and will be gone... I've never said anything original, only crafted my words in such a manner that you would not be reminded of the others: the real wordsmiths, those masters of lore, stand alone on mountaintops aware of every word and its unique meaning. They never say something someone else said first, and consequently, don't say much. Webster was one such man, and author of words like "dictionary" and "copyright",
until he fell off his mountain and said "Ow!", and if that were not enough said, "Oops!" to top it off, neither words of which were his Now there's nothing you can say to unsay something that you've said Nothing. (that word hasn't been invented yet) Webster knew he could not go back, not until he had said that word. And so he went below with the world view he once had, to do what could be done for those who would never have words of their own
Them that didn't live on mountains heard only echoes of those others. Even though they mostly got their meanings like little visions in their minds, they couldn't hear the words correctly, and so were never sure with what the meanings went. All this meant most everyone had something else in mind when the same word was said But not Webster. Webster had a plan by which words meant exactly what they meant to everyone, everytime they were used
As time continued though, he began forgetting, for example, whether running meant, "moving faster than a walk" or "operating", and so he made it both, because... because he couldn't have a meaning alone without a word. It was too much like that something he'd been trying hard to say but couldn't quite express. That was a bad thing, I know, but nothing like what was before he fell.
Now of course you know people's memories never fail until they're fairly on in years, and so it was with Webster. Half his life he'd hardly hoped he could somehow say that word, that all those years of mere repeating had not unabled him from more He was finishing his forty-seven-millionth, three-hundred-sixty-nine-thousandth, twenty-second entry when his heart was attacked. And as he lost his fortress it came out his final word. Weak with age it was but beautiful the same,
delicate like the pink cheeks of beige children yet to use Oil of O'lay. Many others have tried to say it, but there is simply too much wisdom, too much pain, too much Webster in that word. It slid between his faintly smiling lips like the frail breath of life itself: whispering, of everything that is, and was, and will be gone. Marisano James
The Gods of Xiang River
Poem by Qu Yuan (343-278BCE)
The God of Xiao River missed his date with the Goddess. In frustration,he heard the Goddess greeting him in his hallucination.
Nelumbo nucifera
Ocimum tenuifloru
Acorus calamus Angelica dahurica
Ficus pumila
Oreorchis patens
Osmanthus fragrans
Pollia japonica
Magnolia liliiflora
Zanthoxylum simulans
Asarum forbesii
Lithospermum erythrorhizon
The Curtain of Twelve Fragrant Plants
Reference:
Pan, F. 2003
ISBN 7806229449
Mawangdui Han Tombs
Three tombs from 2200 years ago (206BC-24) were excavated between 1972 and 1974.
One of the tomb was so well preserved that the body of thelady was only slightly decomposed. An autopsy revealedthat the lady died of biliary colic when she was 50 yearsold. Why the decomposing process was halted remains amystery.
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