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Random
Any choice made in the production of anything the artist calls art.
"So I took a bit of artistic license, okay? It's called "Queen Kong Lear", about an apewoman who feels unloved by her sons. If Shakespeare were alive today he'd totally love it."
Any former hippie who left Woodstock and headed for Wall Street.
Now retired to Napa, surveying his private-label vineyard from the pool-deck of his 20,000 square-foot 'villa', he strums his Martin - yes, it's the one on the cover of 'unplugged' - purchased for six figures from the Christies Clapton auction, a true Birkenstockbroker, a 60s radical who simply took a brief detour.
Eros and Thanatos. Life Force meets Death Wish.
Shedding their clothes and their inhibitions, people gathered in a celebration of Eros Insanitas, knowing that many would be infected, some would die.
Song of the Barred Owl, by consensus of the ornithological community. Who Cooks for You? Who Cooks for Yooooou-All?, in two groups of four.
The owls were singing to each other, high in the spruce trees, and it always made them smile. Who Cooks for You? Who-Cooks-for-Yooooo-All? One night, they went outside with his guitar and he played it back to them.
Marjorie Taylor's lament and no doubt her future campaign theme song, in what's sure to be a groundbreaking presidential bid.
To anyone who thought she effortlessly nailed the Gazpacho Police stalking the halls of congress, compared mask mandates to the Holocaust, or informed the citizenry of the United States that America was officially a Christian Nationalist country, Marjorie, capitalizing on her uncanny resemblance to Miss Piggy, lured Kermit into harmonizing with her as they sang "It's not easy being Greene".
Addiction to hand sanitizing, a common pandemic disorder.
He sanitized his hands after touching any item, even if it had been sitting undisturbed on his desk for years. 'You can never be too careful', he said aloud, every few minutes, in denial of his isopropyl alcoholism.
The validation of Einstein's theory of relativity, in which the concept of five minutes is infinitely elastic, and feminine.
"I'll be ready in 5 minutes" she liked to say, and he knew he could relax for at least an hour.