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Sideshow I
Glitter Porn
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It's a white whale, I say.
A white whale.
Scan your eyes for him men!
Look sharp for white water!
If ye see but a bubble, sing up!
Aye, me harties all 'round,
It was Moby Dick that dismasted me!
Moby Dick that brought me to this dead stump I stand on now, aye aye!
(Aye aye!)
And I'll chase him round Good Hope, and round the Horn,
And round the Norway Maelstrom, and round Perdition's flames before I give him up!
And this is what ye have shipped for, men!
To chase that white whale on both sides of land and over all sides of earth
Till he spouts black blood and rolls fin out!
What say ye, men?
Will ye splice hands on it now?
I think ye do look brave!
(Aye, aye!)
God bless ye.
God bless ye, men.
Steward! Go draw the great measure of grog.
But what's this long face about, Mr. Starbuck?
Wilt thou not chase the white whale?
Art not game for Moby Dick?
All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks.
But in each event, in the living act, the undoubted deed, there,
Some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features
From behind the unreasoning mask.
If man will strike, strike through the mask!
How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall?
To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me.
Sometimes I think there's naught beyond.
But 'tis enough.
He tasks me; he heaps me.
I see in him outrageous strength, with an inscrutable malice sinewing it.
That inscrutable thing is chiefly what I hate.
And be the white whale agent, or be the white whale principal, I will wreak that hate upon him.
Talk not to me of blasphemy, man! I'd strike the sun if it insulted me!
For could the sun do that, then could I do the other.
Since there is ever a sort of fair play herein, jealousy presiding over all creations.
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