Thomas Brodhead – American, born 1968 – Frog –2019 – oil on canvas – 24" x 30" x 0.75" (60.96cm x 76.2cm x 1.91cm)
DOODLESACK: Polygonal Frog! Wherefore thou goest?
ABEDNEGO: Man, I’m diggin’ this new flesh like a vitamin deficiency quenched with flavored chewables! My quadriceps have become quadrilaterals, my deltoids are purely triangular, and my biceps and triceps have two heads and three! Tee-hee! Ribbit-eee!
DOODLESACK: O, hapless amphibian, canst thou not see thy habitat’s afire, and all things once wet and familiar now wax dry and most alien? Thy home’s but a desert, thy mating pool a hell cistern where tadpoles e’er want to sprout dewy wings to escape a boiling death, lest they reduce in their skin to unpalatable pustules?
ABEDNEGO: Dude, keep your seminal vesicles in your pantaloons! Don’t get in a tissy over change, it’s the natural order for things, and that’s what’s hot! E-LEC-TRIC-I-TY! It sends your memes in the bat of an eye where bats do not fly! It makes your attention span positively achondroplasic! It dulls your brain while mollifying the mind! Word...word?
DOODLESACK: Absurd, you guileless toad, you taxonomic ninny! How dare you impugn our grand progress and make false claims that it spins us retrograde! I’ll have you skinned and spray-salted, then roasted on a spit! Why, you...
ABEDNEGO: Aha, my brotha’...see what just happened? On the turn of a bitcoin you’ve lost your balance sheet and gone block-chain bonkers! Chill, my man...transhumanism will fit you like a glove, and you’ll SHINE in your electric-colored meme-coat, you dig?
DOODLESACK: O pusillanimous polyhedra! Save your sartorial savvy for one more kin than kind! Take that!
(He impales the frog on a stick. Picking it up and examining it, he gasps as it melts and drips greenish-blue tar onto the orange floor below. The stick transforms in his hand to a thin line that extends at both ends to meet each horizon. The sound of uneaten crickets grows louder and louder. Fade to black.)