Igor

Elevate form over function to get at less easily articulable truths.

Re: Igor

Postby Jakob » Sun Sep 08, 2019 5:25 pm

And in the end the studio had to pay for a reshoot of the whole swamp scene because management couldn't sign off on an intervention at the hands of a Russian, or anyone carrying a Russian sounding name.

The director, who was allergic to swamp creatures, moaned to his wife and turned in his bed and asked why, why am I here?
To suffer and bleed and make something of this shit, she said.
He huffed and puffed and got out of bed and put on his sunglasses, socks and tie. He slurped some powder into his nose, stood up in front of the emblazoned mirror and began trying on underwear.
His wife looked at him bemused.
Your tie.
whaddaboudit.
Its going to look bad under your shirt.
He angrily started ripping at his tie, nearly choking himself to death like Baron von Muenchhausens suicidal brother.
Jesus this day gone broke! He relapsed in his old mommies tongue.
Don't bear it in mind, said the wife. She'll come around.
She came out of bed and embraced him.
He, drawing her with him, sat down on the ground and embraced her like a convert embraces a priest.
If you say so, he sighed.
He then got up and looked in the mirror and said
help me with my tie.
and so the day of the great director began in earnest, and this was the day of the reshoot of the swamp scene.
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Re: Igor

Postby Jakob » Sun Sep 08, 2019 11:15 pm

SWAMP SCENE

INT. SWAMP - DAY

the bubbles are unmistakable. A RUMBLING comes out of the near black in which we are located.
FAINT RAYS OF LIGHT come through the tarmac of green and reveal us to ourselves.
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Re: Igor

Postby Fixed Cross » Fri Oct 18, 2019 12:41 am

Igor delved in his soul and found a rubber Duckie. He tossed it outside of his body and it became a whirling storm that sucked him up and slurped him down the drainpipe of a bathtub of which faint memories remained intimate to his mind. He then slew seven dragons and twenty beasts with no heads - slaying them meant screwing on their heads - during which he got bit several times with rabies and other, more sinister madnesses, and for this he had to calmly flute herbs under a Buddhic tree and make a fire of a non-Buddhic tree and sit in the rain and smouldering ashes afterwards, contemplating everything one can do with an apple aside from eating it.
The strong do what they can, the weak accept what they must.
- Thucydides
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Re: Igor

Postby Fixed Cross » Sat Oct 19, 2019 1:17 pm

Igor now aimed his hypertrusive obstacular at the skies underneath and overhead and blasted.
What happened has been registered in and as every cartoon ever made.

Then he went out to eat, breakfast. It was noon. It was allowed. He had a hamburger and coffee.
The strong do what they can, the weak accept what they must.
- Thucydides
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Re: Igor

Postby Meno_ » Sat Oct 19, 2019 2:52 pm

And Munchausen aside, he grasped the iPhone in his pocket since he was expecting to vomit out a breakfast ill prepared by his wife, and suddenly forgot her name, and as he tried to recollect, a total loss occurred, in fact, the time of great reckoning was it hand, forgot everything about everything lead ing up to NOW, as if the instance, this, ate up every bit of memory had left, and no, he told himself, I will reboot one the taste of this badly prepared brew leaves my lovely apprehensive taste buds.
Igor was perturbed by Dracula, very much so because Dracula tried to out him, and he knew the rules befitting the service, otherwise his position of s double agent will be given up, even though it has been marginally been deposed and filed into some abandoned memory storage since microfilm days, dumped and forgotten.
So why should now be worried about dracula's whereabouts and activities when Dracula was immersed in time travel as eagerly as he is?
He'll if wife became overly inquisitive about his whereabouts, he could refrain from directly facing her underlings and proceed to tell her not to call any of drac's acquaintances, drac he knew, was not much into too much daily exposure any way, and tried to keep it to the minimum.
In fact him and drac were attuned in certain ways to the swampy underground that meant certain exposure since Dostoevsky days when letters from underground didn't mean much, and could not in a thousand ways indicate swampy terrain.

So slovenly forgot about the awful contents of the ill prepared breakfast brewed up by the missus, after stretching it out inordinately, and put on his well its another day another dollar day mask, went about his daily routine.
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Re: Igor

Postby Fixed Cross » Sat Oct 19, 2019 10:47 pm

On a normal day, Igor has breakfast with coffee and hamburger - that is when he finds the opportunity to shove the wife's conjuring in a plastic bag which he then maneuvers into his briefcase, which he possesses expressly for this purpose. The wife thinks Igor is an accountant, but Igor is in fact, a Man. In the occasional case where Igor is forced by his wife's scruples to absorb into his digestive tract her conjurings, said digestive tract disallows the stufflings trespassing beyond a certain point, and addresses them back to sender in pulp form, yet Igor, polite being that he is, is compelled to find other locations into which to emit the retoured plasma than the Formica living-table, and in a bout of characteristic illuminance he has contacted a Finnish programmer he had remained in contact with from the days of "purple motion" and "second reality" to manufacture an iPhone app which will allow him to projectile vomit the plasma into to the phone-screen, where the app will secure its absorption and disposing into "the cloud". However this morning it appears that the apps tolerance is still found wanting and the plasma smothers the physical object of the phone - meagre by proportion as the physically is next to the cloud-ness, the virtuality which holds the true significance of the device, despite its sleek design which is still, even covered in yellowish chunks, unmistakably American, and therefore real.
The strong do what they can, the weak accept what they must.
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Re: Igor

Postby Fixed Cross » Wed Oct 23, 2019 8:51 pm

Igor wakes up and meets an eagle. He says "No matter what you're told, I have a heart of gold"
Is it the eagle which says this, or Igor? It isn't clear. He tries to remember and nearly falls asleep doing so!
The strong do what they can, the weak accept what they must.
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Re: Igor

Postby Arcturus Descending » Sat Nov 02, 2019 5:17 pm

Then Igor instantly finds a great measure of peace as he remembers his old friend, Rumi. He remembered the wonderful star-lit night when he and Rumi sat at the edge of the village at their favorite spot in front of a warm, comforting fire.

He had been trying to solve a problem that evening too, a conundrum of sorts. Rumi could see the almost anguished look on Igor's countenance. He smiled at his friend, Igor, and said: "Ah, my dear and lasting friend. Igor looked up at him and marveled how Rumi's countenance glowed as Rumi spoke the words:

Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer."

Igor was so moved by the memory of these words that tears began to flow. It was as if this great weight had been lifted from his heart. "Does it really matter which of us spoke the words to the other?" All that truly matters is that I have met my first Eagle. We will speak to one another and learn many things from one another. I especially shall learn many, wondrous things from my Eagle Friend. Ah, I cannot imagine the things which this wonderful Eagle has to teach me, to tell me.

Then Igor looked up and called down the magnificent Being. Smiling to himself, he murmured: "It is beginning" and his heart soared!
"Look closely. The beautiful may be small."


"Two things fill the mind with ever new and increasing admiration and awe, the oftener and more steadily we reflect on them: the starry heavens above me and the moral law within me."


“Whereas the beautiful is limited, the sublime is limitless, so that the mind in the presence of the sublime, attempting to imagine what it cannot, has pain in the failure but pleasure in contemplating the immensity of the attempt.”

Immanuel Kant
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Re: Igor

Postby Meno_ » Sat Nov 02, 2019 5:43 pm

As he was called from far asunder Rumi smiled with awe that If it would try to conjoin him in a wondrous union by the sacred tree of life.
Then he remembered that the sacred Eagle was never permitted there, Therefore he gathered all his mystical powers, . and Rumi transferred his eagle nature into the remarkable bat Dracula.
Then he flew, muse-like whipping Prometheus into , his alter narcissistic ego into an enchanting and slightly curved eclipse of plunging flight into Igor's domain, where the holoscopic tree of myths and wonders stood within mystical shrouds in one of many hidden universes.
The tree proudly stood as time immemorial first planted it"s beguiling seeds , guarded by black angels of bestial virgins. They hissed and stabbed at the mythic poet with such vengeance and cruel stabbing motions, that even the primordial viper was taken aback with surprise and bewilderment.
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