The End of History

The End of History

Let us remove all history.
Let us erase all tradition.
Let us purge ourselves of every story
until we arrive at this moment…
Adrift, but free of ancient ties.

Let us round all edges.
Let us soften the contrast between us.
Let us muddle all hues.
Let us blend in, fit in and slide in.
Let’s let everything go until
each and everything about us is
going, going…gone.

Nameless Historically Ambiguous Art

Historically Ambiguous Art


Let us forget the names of every bridge.
Let us forget the names of every street.
Let us forget the names of every building.
Let us forget the names of every river, stream and creek.
Let’s not rename but un-name everything.

Let us void anything referencing any moment
from any past anywhere at any time.
Then we’ll meld together and hum.

Let us make music into a single note…
A buzzing droning sound without words.
It’s what we’ll hear in our heads
after we’ve freed ourselves from history.

Let’s unburden ourselves of words by severing their roots.
Let’s excuse ourselves from all languages.
Let’s build another tower of babble and hum.
But then, what is that?

Aldkfji ierjddl adlfkd oeirue
oeiruei sldkfjv aodif, alsdkf.
Eoridk lsdfkjdk aldkfdk irkrp,
oeik oaidfd ldkfdjdk.


Gregory Zeorlin 5/11/2017 @ 7:33am


The Original Soup

At a hefty 475 words this entry isn’t going to be completely read by most who start it. (But if it was only 474 words long would a few more be able to read it to the end? Hmm.). This soup idea started because I want to make real soup today. So sip on this soup of mixed and chopped words dear imaginary readers and you few real ones too.


Word Soup

Word Soup

The Original Soup

Long ago someone made a pot of soup. The pot of soup was shared. Most liked the soup. Some thought the soup was so-so.

Those who liked the soup came back and watched the soup being made. They went away and made more of the soup. Then those pots of soup were shared. Most liked the soup. Some thought the soup was still so-so.

Many pots of soup were made from memory. Over and over the soup was shared. So much soup was shared some never saw the original soup being made. But those soup lovers still wanted the recipe. So someone wrote it down the best they could recall.

More soup was made and more recipes were written down from memory. Eventually the recipe was everywhere although no one knew who wrote it. So the pots of soup started to change. Some soups were liked more. Some soups were so-so. Some said they had the right soup. Some disagreed.

People started cooking soup with any recipe that tasted right to them. And soup started being made in different shaped soup pots. Some liked the copper pots for soup the best. Some liked cast iron pots for the soup. Some thought the soup from any of the pots was so-so, but they were still hungry.

One day many different pots of soup appeared at the same place to be shared. People who talked about the right recipe for soup had to choose a soup line. People split up into many soup lines and looked at one another. Some encouraged others to join their line for the right soup. Some discouraged others from getting in their soup line. Some said nothing since they thought all the lines were so-so, as was the soup. They were hungry and got in the line that served soup in the biggest bowls.

Now no one knows who wrote the original soup recipe. But some say they know. And others went to cooking schools to learn to cook soup. Few cooked their own soup at home and sipped whatever soup was served in the lines. Eventually a few soup sippers started talking about making soup from scratch without a recipe.

The official recipe keepers and trained soup cooks were upset. They didn’t want others cooking soup on their own and warned of the troubles to follow. Then the recipe writers and soup line organizers got worried. Many people were unsatisfied with the official soups but still wanted soup.

Dissatisfied soup sippers started cooking soup at home from scratch without a recipe. They followed their tastes and their soups seemed right to them. So they shared their pots of soup with others. Some liked all the soups. Some only liked one soup. Some thought all the soups were so-so. And the soup pot maker lived happily ever after.

Gregory Zeorlin 2/24/2015 @ 11am + 2/25/15 @ 7:10am

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