Re: Cones in Art & Literature
 

A Black Hole needs an 'exit cone'. Hence CONE ZERO.
Tomorrow we find out...

Hence the lemniscate on the cover of Nemo (200)8

Hence, too: Hence, too: Hence, too:
The Fix Review of 'Cone Zero says:
"You can see it coming, of course. It's like watching a disaster from a distance and being powerless to stop it."
The Fix Review of 'Cone Zero says:
"You can see it coming, of course. It's like watching a disaster from a distance and being powerless to stop it."
The Fix Review of 'Cone Zero says:
"You can see it coming, of course. It's like watching a disaster from a distance and being powerless to stop it."

Re: Cones in Art & Literature
 

Now I must suddenly express my concern (cone CERN). I should have bought Cone Zero when I had the chance... :rolleyes:, :(, and :eek:!

Re: Cones in Art & Literature
 

Lemniscate is the infinity sign - which replaces the 8 on Nemo 8 (on the cover).

Tomorrow, according to the news, we are all going to die from a black hole.

Cone Zero is another name for a black hole.

And the recent Fix Review, if you read it, predicted this parallel set of events.

Not a good way to advertsie CONE ZERO, I agree.

If I'm right, nobody buys CONE ZERO, because we are all dead.

If I'm wrong, egg on my face.

Re: Cones in Art & Literature
 

I scream, you scream, we all scream for I scream cones....

Re: Cones in Art & Literature
 

Re: Cones in Art & Literature
 

For this relief much thanks. ;)

Re: Cones in Art & Literature
 

The Power of Imagination as prophylactic, Johan.
des

Re: Cones in Art & Literature
 

An ice cream cone in hand is much better than egg on the face...

Re: Cones in Art & Literature
 

"Starship City sat at the foot of the New Hills which rose like steps eastward from the Argumentative Oceans. On the other side of the vast gaslit metropolis, lay the mighty land fissure which still creaked and groaned on certain days of the year. As one approached from the south along the carriageways, one could hear the mammoth rasping of Nature ('Surely, it will crack the world in two, one day!') and see the looming rocketship monument to all those who had died cosmic deaths. The monument was indeed the first sign of the city that the stranger saw: a tall tapering cone-pinnacle or narrow pyramid, curiously like a church spire ready for launch. Soon, it was obvious that this marked the outer limits of the city suburbs - countless ranks of decrepit terraced two-up-two-downs in faded black and white checkerboard, items of washing hanging across the narrow byways and shadowing the queues of gossipers and scandalmongers."

Re: Cones in Art & Literature
 

There was a wafer-thin shell shaped geometrically as a cone would be shaped. It was on her dressing-table, amid the other baubles and gewgaws that littered her untidy make-up ceremonial. She clipped an eyelid with nail scissors, oblivious of the resultant slowly dripping tears. She crimped a brow with a file. Twisted her fingers into laced-up bows. She folded her tongue around a sharp comb, feeling the prongs go deep. She then took up the cone (about walnut-sized) and swallowed it whole. Beauty was skin deep. A fantastic journey by those Zeroists on board the cone seeking trinkets and necklaces down to the unfound troves: the made-up make-up of a month's trawl. Swifter than Swift, she ate her eyes one by one each little-end first – as she felt the cat's cradle of more vessels making her insides even more beautiful with swagged sacks of cone-sewn tumour-roses blooming ... ever blooming into hanging gardens. The dressing-table mirror folded into a twirled shard before her, making her image funnier than in a fairground funhouse. Then just laughter. Nothing else.