I read a poem recently, by E.E. Cummings. Of course, this wasn't
the E.E. Cummings; I haven't got time for such nonsense, and besides, I think this man's Es stood for Earwig Earwig. His work was, of course, far better than that of
the E.E. Cummings, but I'm afraid it still fell short a bit and I'm inclined to say it rather reflects the image his first and middle names bring to mind. Here is the aforementioned poem in full, by means of creating an Exhibit A:
These are amazing: each
Is a delusion, and I agreed, adding that
The summer demands and takes away too much,
The orange tree, so that its summer produce
Can go back to where we got it wrong, then drip gently
All the rest is waiting
A chorus of smiles, a winter morning.
As deep as the Congo is wide.
People have been making a garment out of it,
But it seems they are just mumbling something—shy words of love, probably.
What was left was like a field.
For this is action, this not being sure, this careless
Preparing, sowing the seeds crooked in the furrow,
Making ready to forget, and always coming back
To the mooring of starting out, that day so long ago.
Truly a visionary this man must be, you are thinking. Impeccable genius appears to flow from his pen as easily as one can recite the alphabet! Ah. But my dear friends, you have not delved into the worst of it, for what poetry is simply poetry rather than an unlocked door to deeper meaning? Indeed, the poem is the source of years of tire and turbulence from my own troubled mind, including but not limited to a weekly self-help group that attempted to decode it, and the consumption of 3000 times the accepted Vitamin C intake every day. The ancient Amish claimed many times that grapefruits were the nurse of knowledge, but I will not be misled again! These eons of work have uncovered the following evidence. Exhibit 2:
Yes, the Mona Lisa--
La Gioconda-- the archetypical masterpiece. But thanks to the high-res retouched JPEG of it provided by the Wikimedia Commons, it's not hard to see the hidden message which must have been brilliantly brushstroked in by Leonardo da Vinci himself, hundreds of years ago. Exhibit C:
No, your eyes do not deceive you! When masterfully zoomed and enhanced to its fullest capacity, Ms. Lisa is unmistakably revealed to have the word "OZZY" tattooed onto her right knuckles. The word "OZZY" was, of course, a symbol of death in ancient Hindu cultures. Make no mistake, this is extremely eerie, but I would be a fool if I didn't know what my audience was currently thinking. After all, you are currently thinking, how could this possibly be related to your introductory poem? And the answer to this query, my friends, can be found no further than in our very own
LINDA RHALDEEN, embarrassingly misspelled Linda
Rahldeen upon registration. For it was her, the conniving fiend, above all people, who IRREFUTABLY was the person who could not escape my mind at the very same-- THE VERY SAME-- dinner party at which I became acquainted with Earwig Cummings. Yes, I really thought it was the sort of dinner party that was perfect for her. I was truly saddened that she couldn't have been there. In any case, your time of hiding has come to an end, vile beast! Linda, congratulations on winning the Bandies award for "Best Glasses-Wearer"! Pandora and Pen were in the running, but Pandora was ultimately discarded for making her spectacles too girly of an accessory, and Pen's spectacles were certainly on par with how ordinary Linda's are, but the anonymous host felt Linda has made a bold political statement in wearing boring glasses and being a female. Thankfully no one is allowed to question his decisions, so please enjoy your unmarked grave of a Bandies banner to the fullest extent!