Shapes the Final Frontier

First there were shapes: circles, squares, and so on. Then came shapes.

Like, see that dude across the street? “I like the shape,” you can say.

Also, “I have a pain in my shape,” can mean you went to the gym and overdid it on the leg press.

The day after Remembrance of Independence, Pistol Whip and I happened to be at Youpers, and McVainerson was there, and joined us by the bar for a while. Fireworks was the hot topic of conversation. “I hate shapes,” I said, and Pistol concurred, with authority. We did the rapid-fire thing: hearts (yeck), saturns (bleh), spherical cylinders, or was it cylindrical spheres (why?)? “Anyway, redundant,” said Pistol. McVainerson was so puzzled by our vehemence that I found it necessary to say, “I have nothing against geometry, in principle.”

So you see, much depends on context, just like it depends on a red wheelbarrow (2 circles, 2 lines, rectangle, small triangle) glazed with rainwater. This will be important to remember in the coming weeks, as shapes obliterates everything in its path.

“I like the shape of this whiskey,” I will say*, or “I want that shape,” pointing to a cute pup. “Shapes feel good, yo,” I might say, touching Boy’s arm. And right when everything falls apart and nothing means anything anymore, shapes will go back to being shapes–trapezoids and circles and parallelograms and squares.

Kind of like this:

*If I can ever drink again, that is.

by Left Hook | 9 July 2007 | popular culture | Comments