Binary
WHY does a cauliflower so much resemble a brain? All those
pale curved protuberances and hillocks tease the mind into activity . . . at this point I randomly remember the
complicated architecture of a particularly gothic dream. But brains and
cauliflowers, ah yes, is this the same kind of parallelism as that which holds
between pine cones and pagodas? There we go again, seeking order or duplicity
in the stubborn universe. We ask ourselves whether the resemblance between a
rose and a cabbage is like that between a clipped hedge and a high tin loaf,
coming up with no answer at all. The brain and the cauliflower continue to rise
up on their cortices, bubbly fruits that they are. Moon goes around earth goes
around sun, et cetera, analogues active everywhere. Echo redeems Narcissus,
shadow is touching reflection. We ask ourselves what it all signifies.
Somewhere, in shadow, aged sages debate such questions on a lawn all day, over
their wine and bananas.
The Oxford Book of
Comic Verse, ed. by John Gross (London, New York: Oxford UP, 1994), 438.
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