They say one picture can say more than one thousand words. Of course assuming this very thousand words describe what this very picture shows, while this very picture shows what this very thousand words describe – such assumption is very risky, because description and picture describing and showing the same, for example a view from the window, will never cover each other entirely, some areas of this view will be indescribable for ever, while the picture will never show some invisible parts or strata or aspects of the view – so the text will describe what the picture will not show, while the picture will show what the text will not describe, thus describing and showing the same they will describe and show not the same, something else... Rime frost indicates the wintertime, while quite a lot of leaves not yet fallen indicate the end of autumn – if so, then the days are gloomy, grey, misty. Morning can look like evening, evening can look like noon, noon can look like afternoon, afternoon can look like morning... Thicket of trees. Interwoven branches. Interlacing crowns. Most probably a garden. Old. Or a park. Rather not a wood. Not yet. Or maybe the edge of wood. A light grey sky visible quite clearly through the dense net of strokes suggest emptiness, vacuum, free space behind these lush tufts so dangerously similar to crinoids and sea anemones so maybe this garden is not on the bottom of the sky, but on the bottom of the sea? no, no, the colours are not of the sea, nor of the lake, these are colours of the earth and air, but can we trust colours in a picture? not occupied space – by whom or by what? For example by trees also high and tangled, by houses, by buildings, by ice palaces, by cloud castles... How vast is this area suspected to be not occupied? Where does it reach to? Is it limited or unlimited, finite or infinite? If it is limited then what does limit it, what does penetrate it from the other edge, from the opposite end? Or what does this space penetrate, what does it attack, what does it try to push away? We don't know, either, what is above these trees, although this can be imagined easily – it's highly improbable a huge rock is hanging above them. It's a bit more difficult to guess what is beneath, under them, because a simple notice saying “ground” undoubtedly won't satisfy us – what ground? is this ground covered with dead grass or defunct leaves? or maybe it is bare and barren, trodden, swept clean by winds and brooms? paved, blacktopped, covered with gravel thick or thin... We also don't know what is inside. What is plundering and ferreting and digging through and running around... I know: a squirrel. But this is my knowledge, the picture doesn't know it, so it makes no difference. I could place this squirrel in one of the phrases of the description, or even mix cleverly in a story about this animal, its everyday itinerary from the depth of the garden, from behind the huge oak and much smaller walnut tree squatting behind the giant, to the big lime tree which grows in front of the picture (assuming the void is behind the picture)....
I have written more than five hundred words. Unnecessarily. With no need at all. I will write five hundred words more – also unnecessarily and with no need. Even if these next five hundred words will not refer to what can not be seen, but only to what can be seen, nobody among those who would read them would see the picture we saw before, though this very picture should have appeared. And if I stopped to describe what can be seen, and began to describe what can not be seen, I would place in next lines many a tale about a pheasant, cat, wood-pecker, mole, big daddy ash tree... However I will not place all stories. And if I replace each word with a picture, would they be able to torment us with unnecessary questions? To tease lazy minds with doubts coming from nowhere like these tiny crystals of frost, sometimes ravishing us with excellent absurdity, perfect metaphors, shining so brightly and making us close our eyes not to get blind. This is very doubtful.... This picture is composed of three million six hundred forty four thousand and twenty eight pixels – this number seems incredible, but it is a result of simple multiplication: 2484 x 1467. And if each pixel is replaced with one word, small enough to occupy the area of one pixel and big enough to be read, would such pictext be a real window to the world, the window where whole world can be seen? ...... Having written nearly three hundred words more, this text hasn't become less unnecessary and not needed as it has been since the very beginning. Instead of mixing and tangling words and thoughts, it would be enough to write as follow: there is no television here – this is not TELELAND. But almost eight hundred words ago I didn't know this word.
But this one word is not the point. The point is that nothing more is going on in the world (as one can see through this window). So there is no need to change the picture, to take a new one every morning or evening. The same and as much as here would happen in the other pictures ...... So static it is. False calmness? Fake peace? Yes, that's right: sheer static and fake peace hiding frantic hustle and bustle. So there should be one more channel. LDT – Liberland Dynamic Television. A dynamic image would hide inside it a hypnotic calmness. The result would be the same. Because there is no other result. Thus the other channel is not needed. Like the first one ...... And telling the truth neither these nine hundred and dozen words above, nor the picture, show the garden over there. What do they show, what do they present? We don't know. We know there are worlds behind the window. What worlds? We don't know, either. We know that now we have more than one thousand words here. If so, then we can look through the window and don't bother ourselves with pictures painted, photographed, drawn or written.