'Chisel' © by Joseph M. Weinberg 1997
All Rights Reserved
Page by Jilli
CHISEL
by: Joseph M. Weinberg aka WWriter
"Hello and welcome to Inanimate Objects Live. The show for and about famous inanimate objects throughout history, thanks to the wonderful abilities of the long lives generally attributed to inanimate objects. I am your host, Inor Ganic.
"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we have a very special guest with us all the way from Florence, Italy. Please give a warm inanimate welcome for the Chisel used by Meichelangelo in the sculpting of the colossal 'David.'
"Thank you for being with us, Sir. It truly is an honor.
"Tell us, Mr. Chisel, what was it like to work with such a master craftsman?"
"He was no master anything! I did all the work. All he did was apply pressure. 'Chip away the pieces that weren't part of the statue,' he said! But all along it was me! I did the actual work. He would always set me down next to the sketch of what he wanted, so I could see what to do, and then he'd pick me up and start sculpting. I had to do all the painstaking work breaking away the marble. But did I get any credit? Does the TRUE master ever get credit? Of course not! Did da Vinci's paintbrush get credit for the Mona Lisa? Did Machiavelli's pen get credit? How about Einstein's chalk? NO WAY! Of course they didn't get any credit! We're just inanimate objects, we couldn't have done such artwork, or thought of something so ingenious. Why, to most humans, we don't even have brains! They just use us for our bodies and skills!"
"I can see you have some resentments about not getting the credit. Let me just emphasize once again how great a pleasure it is to have you here with us to tell us all about Michelangelo's-- I'm sorry, YOUR masterpiece."
"Thank you. I'm very happy to be here. What is your next question?"
"I'm sure that many of our readers would like to know about your life. Where were you born? What was your early life like? Was Michelangelo a nice guy?"
"Well, it all started when I was in a market in Florence. At least, that's as early as I remember. I have some hazy memories of suddenly becoming an individual, and losing a lot of weight.
"Anyway, this bearded guy comes in and starts picking up all the other chisels around me. He looks carefully at them, squeezes them, stuff like that. He tested all the other chisels, picking me last. I guess he did that just to make the others feel a little better and not have to go after me. A fair idea. I didn't want them to feel bad, after all. I'm not being mean, but they just couldn't compare to my perfection.
"Well, when he picked me up, he admired the perfection of my body and my strength and durability. 'This will do,' he said to the shopkeeper. He was obviously trying to make the others feel good to, as he controlled his excitement at finding me. And then he paid the man and left.
"We went to a big room, and he showed me around. He showed me where he slept, where he threw his clothes when he went to bed, even the marble he would use.
"The next day, he showed me the sketch of what he wanted, and we began. He put me near the corner of the marble block, but I moved down a few inches. After all, if he HAD hit there, he would have cracked the entire block of marble, ruining the statue.
"It went on like that for quite some time. He would make a mistake, and I would correct it, making sure his bumbling didn't ruin the whole thing. He was a visionary, good at picking out tools, and a real smart man, but not too handy. I talked to the paintbrush from the Sistine Chapel, and she told me he kept making mistakes there, too.
"So it went for a long time. He would work with me, eat with me, sleep near me, then get up and start all over again. He certainly was dedicated. I remember he got about ten other job offers while he was doing this, but he told them he wouldn't do anything until he finished 'his' masterpiece.
"Yeah, he was a nice guy. He never treated me badly or threw me down in disgust like some other artists did. He would put me gently into the pocket in his smock. Then, he would gently toss me into the corner when he went to sleep. He did it so that I would not break. Of that, I am certain. Yeah, I liked him. He was really cool.
"When we finally finished, everyone marveled at how great the statue was. He told them he just chipped away the pieces that didn't belong. Yeah right! He never said it was me! But, I suppose he just didn't realize it was ME doing all the work. 'Genius is subtle,' they say. And they don't get much more subtle than inanimate objects! He got lots of money and went down in history as a genius, while all I got was a few lousy pedestals to chisel. And even those gigs didn't last that long. Never anybody with the vision of that bearded man.
"So, I retired from the Art business around 1700, and I've been working on my book ever since. It's called 'Life as a tool,' it should be coming out in hardback sometime next year, and it goes much more in depth with my life. Tells of all my trials, some of my tribulations, and my thoughts throughout history. To reserve a copy, call me at 1-555-273- TOOL. That's 1-555-273-8665."
"Thank you, and I'm sure everyone will pick up a copy of your wonderful book."
"Yes, I'm sure they will love it. It's intelligent, to the point, and, most importantly, completely true and accurate. Just remember to call 1-555-273-TOOL. Ask for me, Chis!"
"Yes, well, that's all the time we have for today. Thank you for joining us, Mr. Chisel. And thank you to all those who tuned in. Join us next time when we talk to Jack London's pen for the story 'White Fang.' Be here when we find out what it was like to pen such a novel. I would think it would be tiring. Find out next time! I'm sure it will be very interesting.
"Until then keep reading, and pay attention to those poor inanimate objects that do all your work. Give them a little credit, and don't treat them badly."
"And don't forget about my book! It's called 'Life as a tool.' to reserve a copy, call--"
"Yes, well, I'm sorry, Mr. Chisel, but we really are out of time."
-END-
you may e-mail Joseph M. Weinberg at: WWriter@worldnet.att.net
