On a distant, far-away beach along the Atlantic Ocean, there stands a beautiful woman in a trim blue bikini. Kant once said: “if an ornament does not itself enter into the composition of the beautiful form, if it is introduced like a gold frame merely to win approval for the picture by means of its charm, it is then called finery and takes away from the genuine beauty.” When this beautiful woman takes off her bikini and lets it drift away on the foamy ocean waves, there was a real dilemma. Where, now, is the beauty? Does it still exist? What ornamented whom, or whom ornamented what, with regard to beauty there? Kant would say it no longer exists: but is that for reason of the lost bikini or the bikini separated from its master? Or the woman no longer ornamented? Or does that distinction belong to the bikini? And yet beauty can exist without ornamentation, and should, so what remains beautiful when a bikini floats on the water? The woman, who is lonely, or the bikini, which is perhaps beautiful and free? I mention the loneliness of the long distance woman because it enhances her beauty. I mention freedom because that’s another word for nothing left to lose. When you have lost your bikini, you are free. And when you are free, you are no longer a bikini. And perhaps there is beauty. Where? If you can wait a moment, Kant is about to make a decision, I see him twirling his beautiful mustache. The anticipation is brutal. I think that the ocean tastes like a salty Pepsi Cola.
On a distant, far-away beach along the Atlantic Ocean, there stands a beautiful woman in a trim blue bikini. Kant once said: “if an ornament does not itself enter into the composition of the beautiful form, if it is introduced like a gold frame merely to win approval for the picture by means of its charm, it is then called finery and takes away from the genuine beauty.” When this beautiful woman takes off her bikini and lets it drift away on the foamy ocean waves, there was a real dilemma. Where, now, is the beauty? Does it still exist? What ornamented whom, or whom ornamented what, with regard to beauty there? Kant would say it no longer exists: but is that for reason of the lost bikini or the bikini separated from its master? Or the woman no longer ornamented? Or does that distinction belong to the bikini? And yet beauty can exist without ornamentation, and should, so what remains beautiful when a bikini floats on the water? The woman, who is lonely, or the bikini, which is perhaps beautiful and free? I mention the loneliness of the long distance woman because it enhances her beauty. I mention freedom because that’s another word for nothing left to lose. When you have lost your bikini, you are free. And when you are free, you are no longer a bikini. And perhaps there is beauty. Where? If you can wait a moment, Kant is about to make a decision, I see him twirling his beautiful mustache. The anticipation is brutal. I think that the ocean tastes like a salty Pepsi Cola.
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