Mr. Orange

I'm gonna miss Saturday, so here's a late afternoon Friday post...

For some reason, I've become a guy who saves food on his cubicle shelf until it is way past the point of healthy. It started with an apple that I just never really got hungry for, so I kept it sitting there. Six weeks later, Pimpin' Joe asked if it was real. I told him it was, and that I should probably get rid of it. He convinced me to keep though, until it was a consistency that he could blow apart with his Nerf gun.

It finally got too wicked nasty to keep around.

I then held onto a bagel, but I don't remember why. It didn't mold, it just petrified, and as it got more of a stone-like texture, the slice in the middle opened up like a mouth. I then inserted a picture of a woman dressed like a belly dancer dangling out of the "mouth", complete with blood stains, so that it was now the killer, man-eating bagel.

Someone recently threw away the bagel, leaving the bloodied cut out of the belly dancer.

Now someone gave me an orange that they didn't want, and left it on my desk. I was going to ask how I became this guy, but I suppose I brought it on myself. Someone decided to draw a face on the orange, and it looks like this:

Say hello to Mr. Orange.

Some people say that Mr. Orange looks sad, or angry, or depressed. It reminds me of an experiment conducted by Eisenstein - the Russian father of montage editing. He took footage of an old man with a completely blank expression and edited it in with footage of a baby, or a bowl of soup among other things. People watching stated that when "responding" to the baby, the old man looked happy. The same exact footage next to the soup made the old man look hungry according to the audience.

Mr. Orange is a screen for others' feelings, Mr. Orange is a mad man and a wizard, Mr. Orange is a sign of the times.