A newly arrived prisoner, who had been convicted on a sex offense charge, underwent the usual preliminary examination by the prison psychiatrist. The shrink showed the man a series of Rorschach patterns and asked the prisoner what he thought they represented. At least 90% of the time the man said they were pictures either of sex organs or sex acts.
At the conclusion of the interview the psychiatrist said, “Well this interview has certainly confirmed what we knew all along that you are, indeed, almost totally obsessed by thoughts relating to sex -- a grave mental aberration that makes you a danger to yourself and to society.”
Does NO ONE see body parts obscenely on display here?ReplyDelete
Funny! either do I.
Actually, my very first thought on the first picture was that it looked like the pelvic bone and all its parts, exaggerated a bit.ReplyDelete
The second one looked like some sort of demonic skull and cross bones to me.
Does that make me weird?
I see ink splotches. Guess that's what makes me a 'strict constructionist'. ;-)ReplyDelete
The negative space in the first blot is kinda kinky... just sayin'.ReplyDelete
the top one KIND of looks like a pelvic Xray, doesn't it? :-)ReplyDelete
I thought that gag was familiar!ReplyDelete
Mind you, it's an old joke -- probably at least as old as the Rorschach test.
Did no one get the intended laugh from the joke?ReplyDelete
Interesting that Jez seems to remember and take note of the content of this blog better than its author.
Perhaps we ought to find it flattering, but somehow it feels almost akin to stalking -- as though FreeThinke were someone who needs "watching."
"Does that make me weird?"ReplyDelete
No, Jack, that is not what makes you weird. ;-)
I guess that the yokes on me...ReplyDelete
btw - You need to re-title your post, "Inception".ReplyDelete
Does anyone have a handy definition for "poppycock?"ReplyDelete
It's the essence of what has made most of the twentieth century and beyond what it is today.
Astonishing -- and sad -- that great powers could destroyed by arrant nonsense emanating from the gutter, then promoted in high circles and finally promulgated as profound, enlightened thinking.
What can I say, FT, but that there is "generation" from opposites. It is "helpful" vis a vis "thinking", but destructive, vis a vis "culture".ReplyDelete
The ability to think, yea intelligence, itself, is morally neutral. Like fire, gunpowder, money and electricity it may be harnessed for purposes both good and evil.ReplyDelete
The conclusion I dare to draw from that sage observation is that for the good of all mankind -- and especially for one's own good
-- it is better cultivate ambition in the direction of kindness, mercy, consideration and generosity rather than a ruthless, selfish pursuit of power and material gain.
Selfishness untempered by empathy and decency is possibly the most evil thing that exists.
If there were no opposites, Thersites, -- no polar energy -- doubtless the earth would literally disintegrate. Untold quintillions of atoms no longer related to one another in cohesive, coherent patterns would scatter or be blown into aimless isolation. The Cosmos would be bereft of Planet Earth and all evolved here, and all it once stood for or tried to become.ReplyDelete
Would the Universe shed a tear at our loss?
Somehow, I doubt it.
My imagination tells me that in the unknown, unknowable aeons that came before the Universe, itself, began to emerge and coalesce, cataclysmic events of terrifying proportions and inscrutable, unfathomable magnitude have happened trillions and trillions of times without notice.
Quoth The Bard:
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
~ The Tempest, Act 4, Scene 1, 148-158