The picket fence There was a fence with spaces you could look through if you wanted to. An architect who saw this thing stood there one summer evening. Took out the spaces with great care and built a castle in the air. The fence was utterly dumbfounded, each post stood there with nothing round it. Christian Morgenstern, The Art of Looking Sideways www.andrew.cmu.edu spacearchitectureabsurdity
Kokoro A Novel by Natsume Sōseki www.penguinrandomhouse.com Vibrations in the airThat delicate and complex instrumentThe great soundless whirl of darknessUnderfootNot them he despised+2 More zenabsurdity
Don Quixote A Novel by Miguel de Cervantes www.amazon.com A distant fireWhen life is overStoriesArtificeDeceivers and deceptions+1 More absurdity
Re: Pointing at things An Article by Robin Rendle www.robinrendle.com I think I’ve been darting around this question for a while now: ...I think we’ve all been taught to write in a style that forgets the reader entirely. My English degree taught me, incentivized me in fact, to write poorly with this sort of obfuscatory language, “nevertheless...”, “in this essay I will set out to...” etc. All that stuff is me pointing at me, pointing at a thing. But we should just get out of the way of the thing we’re pointing at! Pointing at things writing