MP Guy
06-10-2005, 20:14
The man peered in his SLR
And with his hand brought out the zoom,
Beseeching people from afar
To gather 'round the bride and groom.
Relying on the fancy tech
Deep at the core of his F5,
He churned out many frames per sec
With rapid-fire motor drive.
Just as his finger left the shutter
And off the eyepiece popped his face,
He thought he'd heard a quiet mutter
Behind his big equipment case.
There came a lad who introduced
Himself as ex-beau of the bride
And from his jacket he produced
A Bessa R with super-wide.
The man, he laughed to see such sport,
For ne'er in his biography
He'd thought a gadget of this sort
Was used for 'real photography'.
His mother owned a point 'n snap
Which, for her purpose, was quite well—
Yet on a real man's shoulder strap,
You needed all things TTL.
His camera was made for shooting
And that's just what it had to do;
Its electronic brain computing
Each exposure through and through.
The lad just grinned, as though he could
Perceive the man's disdain and doubt.
He palmed the cap, snapped on the hood:
"Here, would you like to try it out?"
At that, the man had to concede
How smooth it felt, how very light;
The body nice and small indeed;
Its viewfinder immensely bright—
Until he clutched the lens, to focus,
And was blinded by his fist!
It didn't take much hocus-pocus
To change the angle of his wrist;
Regardless, he was put aback
By unexpected parallax
Which cut the framing lots of slack
And made alignment rather lax.
The man complained, "This Bessa R,
My registers and me defies:
It does not show things as they are;
Does not record; depicts mere lies.
"The things before me, as they are,
Right down to dust-specks and vignetting,
Aren't changed upon my SLR,
For what you see is what you're getting."
The lad agreed, "Things as they are
Are changed upon the little Bessa.
(Though it has vastly raised the bar
Once set by my old Zeiss Contessa!)
"But it is actually a cinch
To use the framelines for composing
And still keep track, without a flinch,
Of areas that you're not exposing."
"But how," the man rejoined, "to yield
Good pictures by my own devising
Without previewing depth of field
Or the effect of polarizing?"
"The 'DoF preview'," the lad explained,
"At best is but an estimation,
And all the precious light that's drained
Leaves hardly any indication
"Of what is sharp or blurred. I'm sure
You'll find it's more fun to compute
The workings of the aperture,
And is much more precise to boot."
"But what about," the man persisted,
"My color 3D matrix meter?
Now tell me, has there e'er existed
A function that is even neater?
"A light meter that's center-weighted
Is often unreliable.
Besides, it's hopelessly outdated—
Those facts are undeniable."
"Nothing but commerce," said the lad.
"Whether it's TTL or matrix.
I don't submit to every fad
Like to a foxy dominatrix.
"Every meter's prone to blunder.
After all, it's just a tool.
If your readings go asunder,
Use the sunny 16 rule."
"Oh, but my mirror's calibration
Is so utterly sublime;
Free of slightest aberration,
It returns in perfect time—"
"—with pandemonium in its wake
That draws attention manifold
And generates more camera-shake
Than you can possibly handhold."
"But my multi-coated lenses—"
"—Aw, Nikkor glass is somewhat okay.
Yet if you want to thrill your senses,
Look at my Voigtlander's bokeh.
The man protested, "But my Nikkor
Has autofocus multi-zone
Which pins my subject ten times quicker
Than any other lens I've known!"
"Ah, but that's a keen reminder
Where my Bessa really shines!
See, it's a so-called RANGEFINDER
Which two images combines
"To create a gleaming patch.
You just turn the focus wheel
Till you get the two to match;
It is really no big deal.
"Your autofocus's precision
May be cutting edge, but will it
Always make the right decision?
Me, I often had to kill it."
"You had an AF, too?" The man
Asked, his eyes grown in surprise.
"I had a few," the lad began,
"Varying in shape and size.
"Yet what made them all related
Was their urge to make decisions
Which, as photographs translated,
Rarely echoed my own visions.
"I saw my best ideas destroyed
By blurriness and bad exposure,
While the big lens quite annoyed
My subjects, breaking their composure.
"And though I knew it was the human,
Not the tool, who took the pictures,
No scads of deftness and acumen
Could get past these stringent strictures.
"If one should master cameras
And not make them one's master,
They must, like Miss Nakamura's,
Be clear to use, and faster,
"Must grow on one, seamlessly fuse,
A natural extension;
Do nothing to arrest the muse
Of Light for one's invention."
"By Daguerre, I've heard the call!"
The man did awe envelop.
"One rangefinder to shoot them all
And in the dark develop!"
Yet just as he spoke out these words
He noticed fast approaching
The couple, and their guests in herds,
And panic felt encroaching.
They ambled to the parking lots;
Quite over was the wedding!
He'd only done a few group shots
And now their wrath was dreading.
"That's it! I'm done for!" He disclosed.
The lad grinned at these vouches
And crammed two dozen rolls exposed
Into the man's vest pouches.
"What are these?" – "Oh, while we talked,
I used my backup Kiev 4
And passing guests just briefly stalked
So as a few grab shots to schnorr."
…He sent them thither on the double,
And soon received an e-mail
That thanked him dearly for his trouble
But added a brief detail:
"We kind of like the black and white;
Yet next time we need your yield
Please don't record a marriage rite
The way you would a war field!"
And with his hand brought out the zoom,
Beseeching people from afar
To gather 'round the bride and groom.
Relying on the fancy tech
Deep at the core of his F5,
He churned out many frames per sec
With rapid-fire motor drive.
Just as his finger left the shutter
And off the eyepiece popped his face,
He thought he'd heard a quiet mutter
Behind his big equipment case.
There came a lad who introduced
Himself as ex-beau of the bride
And from his jacket he produced
A Bessa R with super-wide.
The man, he laughed to see such sport,
For ne'er in his biography
He'd thought a gadget of this sort
Was used for 'real photography'.
His mother owned a point 'n snap
Which, for her purpose, was quite well—
Yet on a real man's shoulder strap,
You needed all things TTL.
His camera was made for shooting
And that's just what it had to do;
Its electronic brain computing
Each exposure through and through.
The lad just grinned, as though he could
Perceive the man's disdain and doubt.
He palmed the cap, snapped on the hood:
"Here, would you like to try it out?"
At that, the man had to concede
How smooth it felt, how very light;
The body nice and small indeed;
Its viewfinder immensely bright—
Until he clutched the lens, to focus,
And was blinded by his fist!
It didn't take much hocus-pocus
To change the angle of his wrist;
Regardless, he was put aback
By unexpected parallax
Which cut the framing lots of slack
And made alignment rather lax.
The man complained, "This Bessa R,
My registers and me defies:
It does not show things as they are;
Does not record; depicts mere lies.
"The things before me, as they are,
Right down to dust-specks and vignetting,
Aren't changed upon my SLR,
For what you see is what you're getting."
The lad agreed, "Things as they are
Are changed upon the little Bessa.
(Though it has vastly raised the bar
Once set by my old Zeiss Contessa!)
"But it is actually a cinch
To use the framelines for composing
And still keep track, without a flinch,
Of areas that you're not exposing."
"But how," the man rejoined, "to yield
Good pictures by my own devising
Without previewing depth of field
Or the effect of polarizing?"
"The 'DoF preview'," the lad explained,
"At best is but an estimation,
And all the precious light that's drained
Leaves hardly any indication
"Of what is sharp or blurred. I'm sure
You'll find it's more fun to compute
The workings of the aperture,
And is much more precise to boot."
"But what about," the man persisted,
"My color 3D matrix meter?
Now tell me, has there e'er existed
A function that is even neater?
"A light meter that's center-weighted
Is often unreliable.
Besides, it's hopelessly outdated—
Those facts are undeniable."
"Nothing but commerce," said the lad.
"Whether it's TTL or matrix.
I don't submit to every fad
Like to a foxy dominatrix.
"Every meter's prone to blunder.
After all, it's just a tool.
If your readings go asunder,
Use the sunny 16 rule."
"Oh, but my mirror's calibration
Is so utterly sublime;
Free of slightest aberration,
It returns in perfect time—"
"—with pandemonium in its wake
That draws attention manifold
And generates more camera-shake
Than you can possibly handhold."
"But my multi-coated lenses—"
"—Aw, Nikkor glass is somewhat okay.
Yet if you want to thrill your senses,
Look at my Voigtlander's bokeh.
The man protested, "But my Nikkor
Has autofocus multi-zone
Which pins my subject ten times quicker
Than any other lens I've known!"
"Ah, but that's a keen reminder
Where my Bessa really shines!
See, it's a so-called RANGEFINDER
Which two images combines
"To create a gleaming patch.
You just turn the focus wheel
Till you get the two to match;
It is really no big deal.
"Your autofocus's precision
May be cutting edge, but will it
Always make the right decision?
Me, I often had to kill it."
"You had an AF, too?" The man
Asked, his eyes grown in surprise.
"I had a few," the lad began,
"Varying in shape and size.
"Yet what made them all related
Was their urge to make decisions
Which, as photographs translated,
Rarely echoed my own visions.
"I saw my best ideas destroyed
By blurriness and bad exposure,
While the big lens quite annoyed
My subjects, breaking their composure.
"And though I knew it was the human,
Not the tool, who took the pictures,
No scads of deftness and acumen
Could get past these stringent strictures.
"If one should master cameras
And not make them one's master,
They must, like Miss Nakamura's,
Be clear to use, and faster,
"Must grow on one, seamlessly fuse,
A natural extension;
Do nothing to arrest the muse
Of Light for one's invention."
"By Daguerre, I've heard the call!"
The man did awe envelop.
"One rangefinder to shoot them all
And in the dark develop!"
Yet just as he spoke out these words
He noticed fast approaching
The couple, and their guests in herds,
And panic felt encroaching.
They ambled to the parking lots;
Quite over was the wedding!
He'd only done a few group shots
And now their wrath was dreading.
"That's it! I'm done for!" He disclosed.
The lad grinned at these vouches
And crammed two dozen rolls exposed
Into the man's vest pouches.
"What are these?" – "Oh, while we talked,
I used my backup Kiev 4
And passing guests just briefly stalked
So as a few grab shots to schnorr."
…He sent them thither on the double,
And soon received an e-mail
That thanked him dearly for his trouble
But added a brief detail:
"We kind of like the black and white;
Yet next time we need your yield
Please don't record a marriage rite
The way you would a war field!"