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Old 03-30-2015   #741
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Re: Puppet Passage of the Day...

Monsters like that give ventriloquists a bad name.

"...the uncanny is to me the defining trait of this strange and terrible world and our strange and terrible minds." --Thomas Ligotti
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Old 03-30-2015   #742
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Re: Puppet Passage of the Day...


'I believe in what the Germans term Ehrfurcht: reverence for things one cannot understand.'
― Robert Aickman, An Essay
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Old 06-27-2015   #743
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Re: Puppet Passage of the Day...

"Death is a release from the impressions of the senses, and from desires that make us their puppets, and from the vagaries of the mind, and from the hard service of the flesh."

-Marcus Aurelius

"Puppets seem like vampires sometimes. They live, and you're depleted."

-Henry Selick

"We're all puppets, Laurie. I'm just a puppet who can see the strings."

-Dr. Manhattan, Watchmen

Your fall should be like the fall of mountains. But I was before mountains. I was in the beginning, and shall be forever. The first and the last. The world come full circle. I am not the wheel. I am the hand that turns the wheel. I am Time, the Destroyer. I was the wind and the stars before this. Before planets. Before heaven and hell. And when all is done, I will be wind again, to blow this world as dust back into endless space. To me the coming and going of Man is as nothing.
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Old 08-12-2015   #744
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Re: Puppet Passage of the Day...

It's as if we never came into this world,
it's as if we had stayed non-existent.
Darkness all around with no glimmer of light.
Human only in other people's fantasy.

Fashioned from paper and indecision,
marionettes in the two blind hands of Fate,
we do the dance, we accept the jeers,
feebly, passively, we gaze at the stars.

For us every joy is a distant land,
hope and youth are abstract concepts.
No one else knows that we are here, except
whoever steps on us when crossing our path.

So many years, so much time has passed.
O that our body did not feel deep sadness,
O that our soul did not know real pain
telling us that we still do exist...

Kostas Karyotakis: Marionettes (translated by Reader and Taylor)
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Old 08-14-2015   #745
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Re: Puppet Passage of the Day...

This entire book:



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Old 03-07-2016   #746
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Re: Puppet Passage of the Day...

"Already, automatons multiply and dream."

- André Breton, "The Automatic Message" (1924)
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Old 03-30-2016   #747
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Re: Puppet Passage of the Day...

Not really about a puppet, but a doll:

"It had begun with Christmas and the gift of dolls. The big, the special, the loving gift was always a big, blue-eyed Baby Doll. From the clucking sounds of adults I knew that the doll represented what they thought was my fondest wish. I was bemused with the thing itself, and the way it looked. What was I supposed to do with it? Pretend I was its mother? I had no interest in babies or the concept of motherhood. I was interested only in humans my own age and size, and could not generate any enthusiasm at the prospect of being a mother. Motherhood was old age, and other remote possibilities. I learned quickly, however, what I was expected to do with the doll: rock it, fabricate storied situations around it, even sleep with it. Picture books were full of little girls sleeping with their dolls. Raggedy Ann dolls usually, but they were out of the question. I was physically revolted by and secretly frightened of those round moronic eyes, the pancake face, and orangeworms hair.

The other dolls, which were supposed to bring me great pleasure, succeeded in doing quite the opposite. When I took it to bed, its hard unyielding limbs resisted my flesh—the tapered fingertips on those dimpled hands scratched. If, in sleep, I turned, the bone-cold head collided with my own. It was a most uncomfortable, patently aggressive sleeping companion. To hold it was no more rewarding. The starched gauze or lace on the cotton dress irritated any embrace. I had only one desire: to dismember it. To see of what it was made, to discover the dearness, to find the beauty, the desirability that had escaped me, but apparently only me. Adults, older girls, shops, magazines, newspapers, window signs—all the world had agreed that a blue-eyed, yellow-haired,pink-skinned doll was what every girl child treasured. “Here,” they said, “this is beautiful, and if you are on this day ‘worthy’ you may have it.” I fingered the face, wondering at the single-stroke eyebrows; picked at the pearly teeth stuck like two piano keys between red bowline lips. Traced the turned-up nose, poked the glassy blue eyeballs, twisted the yellow hair. I could not love it. But I could examine it to see what it was that all the world said was lovable. Break off the tiny fingers, bend the flat feet, loosen the hair, twist the head around, and the thing made one sound—a sound they said was the sweet and plaintive cry “Mama,” but which sounded to me like the bleat of a dying lamb, or, more precisely, our icebox door opening on rusty hinges in July. Remove the cold and stupid eyeball, it would bleat still, “Ahhhhhh,” take off the head, shake out the sawdust, crack the back against the brass bed rail, it would bleat still. The gauze back would split, and I could see the disk with six holes, the secret of the sound. A mere metal roundness." -- THE BLUEST EYE, by Toni Morrison

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Old 04-03-2016   #748
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Re: Puppet Passage of the Day...

"If the dialogue in these plays consists of meaningless clichés and the mechanical, circular repetition of stereotyped phrases - how many meaningless clichés and stereotyped phrases do we use in our day-to-day conversation? If the characters change their personality halfway through the action, how consistent and truly integrated are the people we meet in our real life? And if people in these plays appear as mere marionettes, helpless puppets without any will of their own, passively at the mercy of blind fate and meaningless circumstance, do we, in fact, in our overorganized world, still possess any genuine initiative or power to decide our own destiny? The spectators of the Theatre of the Absurd are thus confronted with a grotesquely heightened picture of their own world: a world without faith, meaning, and genuine freedom of will. In this sense, the Theatre of the Absurd is the true theatre of our time."

- Martin Esslin, The Theatre of the Absurd
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