Previews of coming distractions: Paper, scissors.
Repulse tiger stone.
This is God, as a teenager before The Big Bang — bored, and looking for some mischief to get into.
You can’t trust matter. It makes up everything.
The rock can outstare you.
As T.S. Eliot might have drawn J. Alfred Prufrock singing his “Love Song”:
… “And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it towards some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
—- If one, settling a pillow by her head —- Should say: “That is not what I meant at all; —- That is not it, at all.”
Straining hard to levitate that rock, been at it for hours.
“So what’s the big deal about rock music?”
Does he dislike his fodder too?
Aha! One of my favorites!
Before n Roll.