Essences

What is the essence of a photograph? What it is? Or what it is of?

Pineapple essence: I made a copy of the photograph of the Intellectual Pineapple wearing glasses and reading The Toilers of the Sea. I wanted to make a funny birthday card for Colin. I had to load it on to a memory stick and walk to Officeworks and get it printed out. I was glad the girl who printed it didn't see what it was. Next I took it home and stuck it on a card. Then I had to think of something to say to make it funny. And I couldn't. Because Colin may not have read The Toilers of the Sea.

Baby essence: Claire asked me to send her some photos of Chris as a baby. I guess she wanted to see if he looked like Ben. Or if Ben looked like him, since Chris came first. I found the old photo album and picked out three black and white ones. In two of them I was holding Chris and in the third one Allan was. We looked so young I fell in love with us.

More pineapple essence: This week's pineapple from the Central Market wouldn't stand up. It had no firm basis to stand on. I was trying to think of a personality for it, for the photograph. I decided it looked like a voter. So I placed it next to the front page of the Independent Weekly, as though it were looking at the headline, "What Did He Know and When Did He Know It?" which refers to the Treasurer Kevin Foley. The pineapple looked smugly indignant. I called the pineapple Indignant Liberal Pineapple, and loaded it on to my Facebook. I fear the pineapple now, for we are yet to eat it.

Pineapple: The Wow Factor

By now, the world knows that we are going to photograph every pineapple that we buy, before we eat it. We have created an album on Facebook for this purpose, and have already put one photo up.

There are as many reasons to photograph a pineapple as there are knobs on a pineapple, but I intend to list only a few.

Firstly, as it is extremely difficult to tell whether a pineapple is any good simply by looking at it, sniffing it, or pulling out one of the spiky leaves at the top, it will be very useful to have a record of what the best ones looked like, for future reference.

Secondly, it will provide us with a means of comparing the various sizes of the pineapples that we buy, which we know are always different, even when the price is exactly the same.

Thirdly, others may wish to comment on the magnificence of our pineapple. I note that someone has already commented on our first one, with the following comment : wow.

While this is most encouraging I cannot help being troubled by the lack of an exclamation mark at the end of the comment. It suggests a certain degree of underwhelmedness on the part of the commenter.

However, perhaps at this early stage of the project it is understandable.

Contradictions

It's last night. Well, no it can't be, but let us say that it is. I am trying to delete a comment on Facebook.

It came about like this. Dresses are in, this summer. I've been making myself a dress. Getting carried away, I mentioned it several times on Facebook. Eventually my daughter took the bait. Who is the mysterious dress for? she wrote. Are you afraid it is for you? I replied. Yes, she answered. Fear not, said I, it is for me.

Then, in order to show her that, had I made the dress for her, she would have liked it, I took a photo and uploaded it onto my page. What do you think? I asked.

Last night we had a conversation in which the dress figured briefly. Suffice to say that after this I decided to delete both the photograph and the final question, 'what do you think ?', as now I knew the answer.

So, it is last night. I am trying to delete a comment. I press delete. Are you sure you want to delete this comment, says Facebook, rudely.

Yes, I say.

Your comment is deleted, says Facebook.

Good, I say.

But a few minutes later I see that my comment is still there.

I press delete.

This comment has already been deleted, says Facebook. The comment does not exist.

Well, I think to myself, I can see it. Where does that leave me?