This wasn't the work of a cheap carnival tattoo man with three colors and whiskey on his breath. This was the accomplishment of a living genius, vibrant, clear, and beautiful.
The reference to El Greco is implied as a high craftsmanship reference, additionally stressed by the historical portrayal of the man as "a mobile fortune display". This is differentiated forcefully to the customary perspective of the inked man in festivals, which illustrates tacky disintegration. In any case, the threat of this more primitive inked man still exists in the Illustrated Man, as the Epilogue demonstrates.
"Sir, when you find him - if you find him," asked Martin, "what will you ask of him?" "Why -" The captain faltered, opening his eyes. His hands clenched and unclenched. He puzzled a moment and then broke into a strange smile. "Why, I'll ask him for a little - peace and quiet." He touched the rocket. "It's been a long time, a long, long time since - since I relaxed."
"Did you ever just try, Captain?" "I don't understand," said Hart. "Never mind. So long, Captain." He knows about what he needs throughout his life - anyway, he doesn't know about what he should give up with a specific end goal to pick up it. This is underscored by the detail of touching the rocket - what gives him control and what he supposes will at long last convey him to the Man, yet really symbolizes his inward debasement and removes him from the Man. Martin's inquiry regarding just endeavoring to unwind - to surrender control and essentially confide in a higher power - is totally lost on the commander. Understanding this, Martin must choose the option to relinquish the chief, excessively visually impaired, making it impossible to his misfortune that he can't see its root.
The rain stopped. The sky broke through the clouds. In ten minutes the storm was gone, like a bad breath. A sweet wind blew the smell of the jungle up to him. He could hear the river moving gently and easily on its way. The jungle was very green; everything was fresh. He walked down through the field to his house and picked up his plow. With his hands on it he looked at the sky beginning to burn hot with the sun
There is a feeling of fruitfulness, of an unadulterated sort of nature that stands contrary to the autos and the parkway and the more "created" universe of the Americans escaping in dread of nuclear war. Therefore, when Hernando asks so anyone might hear "What do they mean, 'the world'?" he said. There is a feeling of the punchline in this end question, additionally underscoring the varying viewpoints between the United States Citizens and the Third World local. The world is especially alive for Hernando, and that part of the world - maybe the whole area - would be spared, as it isn't engaged with the worldwide political pressures that will prompt nuclear war.
