There a kind of splendid if somewhat pointless (or splendidly pointless) creativity that thrives in certain circumstances. It’s the impulse that drive outsider artists to create beauty out of junk and idiosyncrasy.
It’s both a mysterious process and a work of obsession. To quote a Lawrence Block character musing about an outsider artist in Small Town, “she couldn’t hope to guess what had prompted a wild-eyed little black man in Brooklyn to stab knives and forks into the wooden spool, to pound nails and screws and miscellaneous bits of hardware into it, to screw in a brass doorstop here, the wooden knobs from a chest of drawers there. Why he had done it–and, most mysterious of all, how had he managed in the process to create not a mad jumble, not a discordant conglomeration of junk, but an artifact of surpassing beauty?”
This kind of beautiful bizarreness flourishes on the Internet. One example is the weirdly wonderful human clock. (Thanks, RAMily!) Every minute, a new photo pops up which happens to give the time. Photos are submitted by people who want to play – and you can too – when you should be working.