I like this picture. It is both benign and evil at the same time. A little devil doomed to the ashes. Reminds me a manta ray with flamethrowers for its mouth.
Drunk people lit it and left it to its own devices. The party, the flaming cup, both chaotically contained.
The stray flickers that seem to leap impossibly far away always enchant me. The dancing reactions somehow string together a path for the flame to hop along, asking it to burn its ass.
Where does the flame end? (Do rainbows end in a pot of gold or just pot?)
Enchanting, very much in a way that screensavers do. Yes fellow weak-willed humans, I too am mesmerized by cheap lines and silly whirling colors. That combination deadly; a sure invitation to procrastination.
Flames and human lives. When they flail around, they sorely seek is attention and warmth. Both thrash around violently, but neither of them last very long.
It is chaos, contained in an insignificant span of time.
Amazing where all the cup goes after it has burnt up. It used to have considerable mass. After incineration, the ashes weigh barely anything at all. Did all that mass just vaporize to make other gases?
(Disclaimer: I am not a nerd. Dammit, maybe I am.)
You know, if that cup actually completely disappeared, made no gas, just plain converted into energy, it could power Latin America for a few days. That is my ticket to paradise.
I met the crazy bus driver today. He's crazy because he drives about 50mph down the worn-out winding roads of Ithaca at 1:30 in the morning whistling, holding a (fucking hilarious) conversation with me, cursing brainless drivers who do not fear his recklessness and readiness to destroy, laughing at drunk frat boys, screeching to a halt from 50 in about a second then turns to you and says (in the nicest tone) "Goodnight. Watch your step." I mean, what can I say? "Thanks for not killing me again tonight?"
He drove the bus to the grocery store today. Snapping his fingers and whistling to smooth jazz music yet not forgetting his occassional remarks: "fucking bastard! Can't fucking drive to save your life!" and return to a polite conversation with his passengers.
Anyway, my funny German friend said he went bonkers one night and started driving in "pilot mode." He announced all the stops like an airplane captain would (maybe even commenting on tail wind and flight time ?). Then finally, before starting on the longest part of the route that has no bus stops, proudly proclaimed: "next stop, magic wonderland!" Fucking crazy bus driver. I'll miss him when I move to Dryden this summer.
If I bore you, well, this blog is really meant to entertain me.
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