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Dost thou compare me to a summer’s day?!
Dost think that I am nought but birds and flowers?
That I am hot and tiring dost thou say,
And only lasting four and twenty hours?

What is it with this current thing of indignantly accusing all comparisons of being simple identities? If I say you have a moustache that looks like Hitler’s, I am not saying you have any desire to slaughter whole ethnic groups in gas chambers. And ‘comparison’ can be shorthand for ‘comparison and contrast’, surely, anyway.

To be sure, such comparisons can be used to hint that there is more you have in common than just the facial hair, especially in a case where I could as easily have made comparison to a silent movie comedian, similarly arrayed.

But for fuck’s sake people, enough with the mindlessly sheepish and rhetorical indignation. It doesn’t help the argument get anywhere, which carefully chosen comparisons can (as long as we all accept they only apply for the qualities/hary lips under consideration).

And yes, I am comparing all of you to moronic sheep and yes I do mean you eat grass and go baa a lot. And taste good with roast tatties and mint sauce.


Meanwhile here are some portraits what I is doing on the monochrome camera in my trusty Huawei. They be going on Instagram to publicise the Scottish Portrait Awards 2018 exhibition commencing on November 3rd at the Scottish Arts Club.

Be there or be square format.

 

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