There are many things I see that seem almost bloggable, that I decide to pass up for one reason or another. And then there are things upon which I've recently passed, that become bloggable because the next thing I see resonates with that otherwise unbloggable thing. Here's something I passed on:
Here's the next thing I saw:
#1 is a statue with one leg broken off, purportedly by a museum-visitor who climbed onto its lap to take a selfie. Looking at the original...
... I said, aloud, in the privacy of my home: "The statue was asking for it." I liked my wisecrack, but also saw how I could be attacked for making humor in the general vicinity of rape.
It's not squarely a rape joke, because: 1. Climbing onto an inviting knee is not sexual intercourse, 2. It's a statue, and 3. Most politically correctly: The joke isn't mocking victims but those who blame victims.
That twinge of fear that I could be criticized for saying something wrong was the first small count against blogging, but I would have blogged it. What made it unbloggable was: 1. The broken statue is only a reproduction of the truly valuable ancient original (called the "Barberini Faun" or "Drunken Satyr"), and 2. The news story comes from a few weeks ago. I moved on.
Then I saw #2, which is a painting by Dr. Jack Kevorkian, the old, now deceased, Dr. Death, who was the unpleasant face of physician-assisted suicide for many years. The painting is called "Paralysis," so it appears to depict the subjective experience of being paralyzed on one side of the body — as subjectively perceived by a doctor-artist who favors accepting the preference for death by those who are forming that preference within their subjective experience of physical impairment.
And thus within the subjective experience of blogging, for me, the Drunken Satyr stirred to life.