Mr. Horror's Humor.

   Here is a picture. From this upper position what do we have here? Why, there is a sharply trimmed handlebar piercing the air, curling ever so slightly, an extension protruding from the curious specimen man. Specimen Man is sitting in what appears to be a wicker basket. He has his hands folded and by the nature of the smug position he chooses to sit, he rests his full weight; basket, boots, hat and “sharply trimmed handlebar piercing the air”, anchored heavily on a head and its continuity. Specimen Man is most comfortable.

  When some Heavy things sit on other heavy things, there is a simplicity that is almost sporting. When Lighter things sit on Heavy things, generosity abounds. When a Heavy thing sits on a Lighter thing, Lighter things break and painfully so.

Lighter thing Head has a face. It is within. Lighter thing Head is female, crowned by a bond of weight to Heavy thing. This face is not some singular expression. It is a reaction to the weight she endures, her plea against this forced existence.....

When Lighter things tend to break, they do it in resistance to the continuing weight of the Heavy things, slowly resisting, resisting, overwhelmed..., overwhelmed.

Bend, bend you must! When we bend over to see the picture, suddenly realizing how silly those legs are dangling “so blasé” in midair and beneath; horror at this back so bent that it seems there must be some trickery at play. We see that Woman does not stand straight. Woman stands ‘bent’. Woman has hands hanging limp, they clutch at nothing-static in passivity. These hands, they tempt you into thinking they share some of this dead weight but, the curvature of this spine is so severe that quiet creeps your spine. Perhaps we contemplate our existence burdened with such a deformity?

Woman, O! Stress yielded woman! Carrying such mean dead weight, bend! You must bend! Woman is a quiet face, the kind of quiet that exists between calm courage and wise resignation. Woman’s face.....show strength?

Whatever gives, Specimen Man, to sit so unperturbed upon a dignity? You of the “sharply trimmed handlebar piercing the air”, did those shaded eyes not see the contours of that body cry under your imperial weight?  I swear, the “sharply trimmed handlebar piercing the air” winks a mocking answer. It is the colonialist mock of triumph.

There is a shadow lower still. The long ears of a stupid ass, the legs “so blasé”, seen clearly in the dark. The lazy ass that would not work and caused a famine. Stupid! Stupid! Braay!!

And this ass; she, subdued, subservient, sad. Working hard as all mules, carrying deadweight that deforms. This ass, so unhappy, its dull, non-rebellious demeanour has led it to such a fate.

Both asses. One stupid to subjugate the other so.... The other, made such an ass of in broad daylight by such weight. Both asses.....