David Weinberger is off to Vienna. I will now sublimate jealous feelings about Vienna and urge you to join me in figuring out why marble statues remind us of piled-high blopples of whipped cream.
Marble, like whipped cream, reflects our aspirations better than our reality. (“Look Ma, no pores”?) The baroque marble statues that punctuate Vienna live in a world of statuesque pure-white nudity, far from the multi-colored multiplicity of naked human skin.
Heaps of whipped cream also look beautiful. Creamy billows and ruffles and bulges and ripples and flows. Mmmmm–piles of whipped cream have luxuriant body shapes–don’t you agree?
Heaping whipped cream on stuff makes it taste more delicious–sweet stuff, like ice cream or strawberries–strong stuff like black, black, black Viennese black coffee. (My brother Mark used to put herb butter on steak–mmm–admit we’re talking some super-whipped-cream here!)
Can I make this the test of good-versus-evil? If marble, like whipped cream, increases our appetite for a “main event” more real than the decoration, isn’t that good? Yes! It is good.
Have a good time in Vienna, darn it, David.