… as in “to unravel, or become worn at the edges“. (Hah, it can also mean a punch-up.) But can something deliberately created with frayed edges qualify? Is an artificial synthetic as good as an authentic, in the manner of a double negative?
FOR WHATEVER REASON
this reminds me of the kids’ movie “Johnny And The Bomb” based on the book by that great British genius Terry Pratchett—the scene in which the fat kid (Wobbler) is talking to the Councillor, having just inadvertently gone back some sixty years into the past. The Councillor loves jokes but is a bit unsure of Wobbler …
“This piece of string goes into the pub …”
“Oh … you’ve heard it before?”
“No. I’m just trying to imagine it—”
“… He goes into the pub and the barman says to him, ‘Are you a piece of string? ‘Cos we don’t serve pieces of string in here—’ ‘No,’ says the string, ‘I’m a frayed knot.”
(Blogger’s note: if you don’t get it right off, neither did the poor Councillor. But all is not lost, refer the footnote below for relief.)
The Spouse was at the counter getting in the teas when I couldn’t help snapping the ersatz ‘frays’ above my head—
—fortunately the tea was better.
Just a few minutes previous I’d been in the street snapping a big floppety thing worked by compressed air, dancing about in the wind and attracting the attention of the passing multitudes to a new temporary business in last week’s vacant shop. Pure serendipity scored me this sequence—
—and I challenge anyone to look at that middle piccie above without mentally using the phrase “Ah, toro!”
Digression? No, that dancing red guy is frayed, I tell you~
—both by design (hey, he wasn’t born with that haircut) and experience. I mean, just look at his suit—this guy has lived, I tell you, and right on the edge~!
we are to cuddle up on the sofa and watch “Rio”. Our favourite coffee shop (Global Bytes) was playing it without sound and it looked cool enough to buy, and buying something we like never goes amiss ‘cos we watch ’em over and over until the discs themselves get frayed. Don’t wait up …
(The movie acts it better than I tell it—but the joy of British humour used to be in subtleties, insinuendos, and adroitness with puns — as in the string being afraid not to be a frayed knot.) (Bugger, it gets complicated~!)