As we embark on this journey that we call "life," we sometimes encounter people with whom we will never speak. We'll never know their names, never understand if they are happy. Nor will we ever share their hopes, dreams, and aspirations.
Who is this woman? What is that rectangular patch on her coat bearing the year "2004." Why does she stand in front of a sign reading "Large Gala Apples: $1.19," which also contains an oval beneath the price?
Why the predominance of apple-like objects in the background?
Why does her pocketbook have a piano keyboard? Perhaps she is a musician. Perhaps she is a physicist exploring the awesome mysteries of gluons, photons, and W and Z bosons -- the force carrier particles that are responsible for strong, electromagnetic, and weak interactions respectively. Perhaps she is an expert on both the Punic and Peloponnesian wars.
We are likely never to know whom she is, whom she will marry, and even the first letter of her name. For now, as the stars descend, we can only study her photo and temporarily dream that she is Melissa, Tracy, or Gwendolyn.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Explorations Among Apple-Like Objects in the Reality Carnival
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3 comments:
And in the end, is there a reason why should we care? Not being cold...just that we can't know every person we run into...why concern ourselves with some picture of a random woman? And if it was someone the photographer would have wanted to know, then he would have asked.
OK, where can you find large Gala apples for $1.19. They are much more expensive in my grocery store.
The girl has a certain appeal, but my God she has a pocketbook with a piano keyboard; that's tacky in my book- so who cares who she is.
I think you two are missing the existential aspect here. I find Pickover's essay oddly poignant.
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