But first…
Dulltown, UK: Today’s oath from the Victorian underworld is, I wish my bloody eyes may drop out!… (From Bozzimacoo: Origins and Meanings of Oaths & Swear Words by Mary Marshall. 1975) Click.
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‘What do you think of photography?’
‘Photography?’
‘Yes.’
‘I don’t know… Do people think about it?’
‘I think some people do.’
‘Why?…’
‘Well, they seem to think that some photos, are better than others.’
‘Really? That’s a bit odd.’
‘Oh yes. They might say, “Oh, what a lovely photograph!”‘
‘Oh?…’
‘Or, they might say, “Hey, what a really fucking rotten photograph!”‘
‘I suppose the photo would have to be really bad, for them to say something like that.’
‘I suppose so… So…’
‘So what?’
‘So you see, if you could have a really fucking rotten photo, you could equally well have a really good one.’
‘I think I see what you mean…’
‘What do you think of photography?’
‘You asked me that earlier!’
‘I know.’
‘Alright, let me think for a minute… I suppose if someone took a picture of a…’
‘Of a what?’
‘Well, say a pile of festering offal, down an alley, at the back of a cheapskate restaurant…’
‘Offal?…’
‘Yes, then that would be a bad photograph.’
‘I see… and…’
‘And, if someone…’
‘Someone else?’
‘Maybe… took a photo of a glorious sunset, with some yachts, and some gulls…’
‘A glorious sunset?’
‘Yes, that would be a good photograph.’
‘Alright.’
‘Especially if it had yachts and gulls!’
‘Some people think that photography is an art form, you know.’
‘A form of art?’
‘Yes…’
‘What? Like painting, and that shit?’
‘Yes.’
‘I don’t see how they could – I mean…’
‘Mean?’
‘Yes, taking a photo is just pressing a button, isn’t it? Anyone could do that.
‘Any fool could do that.’
‘Yes, any fool… It’s probably all about being lucky.’
‘Lucky?’
‘Yes, say if you walked to work, in the morning, down an alley, behind a cheapskate restaurant, or…’
‘Are you, yourself, familiar with an alley like that – by any chance?’
‘Or, if you were driving home, in your car, in the evening, past the marina…’
‘I see where you are coming from.’
‘Do you?’
‘Oh yes, what about composition?’
‘Composition?’
‘Hm, does that come into it?’
‘I think I see what you are getting at now. Yes, composition: the reddening sky, the bobbing yachts, the wheeling gulls – composition – good photo!’
‘Yes?’
‘And then, the stinky meaty offal – de-composition – bad photo!…’
‘I suppose it comes down to just separating, in your head, which is which…’
‘That’s what I was thinking. Imagine all the people in the world, with their phones, with cameras in them, snapping away, millions and millions of them…’
‘I don’t want to…’
‘You don’t want to what?’
‘Think of them.’
‘No, I suppose not. I’ll bet there’s a hell of a lot more offal, than gulls!’
‘Indeed…’
Dave Whatt 