It's 5:40 AM.
You know, sometimes the world just makes sense. You'll be reading the Times and threatening your coffee with diabetes when clarity will show up tracking dirt on a welcome mat you bought more for cleanliness than for the genuine eagerness of company. That kind of vivid truth and understanding that you really can't anticipate unless you are in possession of just the right amount of cannabis and a sci-fi movie with slight philosophical preaching woven unsubtly into the dialogue.
I wish I had the pithy, the succinct ability to describe the complete awareness of such a moment. When each sense is cracked open faster than the last Sixer at a Leafs playoff game. Monetary conundrums, relationship woes, familial grudges, all suddenly so trivial. Then at the entertainment section of the paper you find out David Carradine died of auto erotic asphyxiation. Truly a boon to existentialists everywhere.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
The Hunt.
The murk is most fowl. Scattered chicken remains haunt a gloomy underground passageway that gets ominously darker with each descending step into seemingly beak oblivion. The ground smells slippery and I worry I will fall long and hard into most certain doom. I dread the coming black and cast deadly woe onto myself for not having brought some form of light source as a companion. I did not fear this type of night so overwhelming in the heart of day, yet my legs are compelled to travel onwards, downwards.
I wait for it, because in the now almost sheer black my hearing is heightened. I expect at any moment to hear a howl, or a growl, or some form of predatory sound that will foreshadow me being devoured. I enlisted myself so proudly, so eager, driven by the joy in my fathers eyes I would unlock should I kill the beast that hunts our chicken coop so unrelentingly. Sounds begin and come into focus and they are not the sounds I bewared. They travel through the tunnel now, these young sounds, of pups not yet veteraned by the taste of animal blood. It seems in my haste to fight a monster in a den I have chased a mother to a home. But my feet do not slow, my grip on my fathers rifle does not lessen. With steps more wary than careful I approach sounds of hunger and longing. Adjusting to what had been before complete blindness, I make out a circle of baby foxes, mere babies.
I hesitate, but only from anticipation. I had committed myself to murder the second my gloved hands had touched rifle. Bullet sounds echo throughout the passage and soon the young sounds are gone. I run from the hole with a speed hastened by cold sweat. I rush headlong through snow untouched by other than boot and paw print. The world blurs and I awake as if from a dream sitting breathlessly in my kitchen. My mother doesn't realize there is a change in me and continues merrily cooking. I look down and expect to see my fathers gun but I am rifleless and gloveless, with a glass of tea in front of me.
For two days I do not sleep. I breathe under covers and inhale long and count sheep. I try sleeping in every possible position but it does not come, my heart too loud to let me shut out that most awful of noises. My parents are thrilled, as our chicken coop has been unattacked since my crime was committed. Yet despite my bravery, I can not bask in my act as savior. For now and for days, that horrible echo rings into my drums. Like a Banshee's wail, a fox yells endlessly and unrelentingly into the night. Both of us, dreamless.
I wait for it, because in the now almost sheer black my hearing is heightened. I expect at any moment to hear a howl, or a growl, or some form of predatory sound that will foreshadow me being devoured. I enlisted myself so proudly, so eager, driven by the joy in my fathers eyes I would unlock should I kill the beast that hunts our chicken coop so unrelentingly. Sounds begin and come into focus and they are not the sounds I bewared. They travel through the tunnel now, these young sounds, of pups not yet veteraned by the taste of animal blood. It seems in my haste to fight a monster in a den I have chased a mother to a home. But my feet do not slow, my grip on my fathers rifle does not lessen. With steps more wary than careful I approach sounds of hunger and longing. Adjusting to what had been before complete blindness, I make out a circle of baby foxes, mere babies.
I hesitate, but only from anticipation. I had committed myself to murder the second my gloved hands had touched rifle. Bullet sounds echo throughout the passage and soon the young sounds are gone. I run from the hole with a speed hastened by cold sweat. I rush headlong through snow untouched by other than boot and paw print. The world blurs and I awake as if from a dream sitting breathlessly in my kitchen. My mother doesn't realize there is a change in me and continues merrily cooking. I look down and expect to see my fathers gun but I am rifleless and gloveless, with a glass of tea in front of me.
For two days I do not sleep. I breathe under covers and inhale long and count sheep. I try sleeping in every possible position but it does not come, my heart too loud to let me shut out that most awful of noises. My parents are thrilled, as our chicken coop has been unattacked since my crime was committed. Yet despite my bravery, I can not bask in my act as savior. For now and for days, that horrible echo rings into my drums. Like a Banshee's wail, a fox yells endlessly and unrelentingly into the night. Both of us, dreamless.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
I don't own any green socks
There is a monster under the bed and all the eye closing and wishing I'm doing isn't doing a god damn thing.
5.
4.
3.
2.
1.
Okay he's still there. He looks like socks and junk from under the bed but he's not. It's camo. He's baiting me to come down. But you're not tricking me you beast. I don't own a pair of green socks. Green socks do not shiver and quiver and are alive. Your trap will fail. I am safe up here, miles away on top of the bed. You don't scare me. I have weapons. I will make it till the morning and I will face you and destroy you. The sun is my tag team partner, we will crush you and make you face the fear you try to use against me. Come on sun where are you it's been forever.
Dad there's a monster under my bed can you please help me.
There's no such thing as monsters stupid.
Yes there is I'm not stupid.
I worked all day today go to bed you're a big boy.
I hate you.
Sweet dreams son.
What a useless dad. The sun won't let me down. He is all powerful and my ally. Did the bed just shake? The bed just shook. He is a powerful monster but I am stronger. I will not be eaten I am barely delicious. I think if I stand up and run and leap off the bed I can make it to the door and sleep on the couch. Monsters hate couches. There are no couch monsters. Five feet of running room and then a jump and then eight feet to the door. If I run like the wind the monster will never know what happened. He will wait for me on the bed and I will sleep on the couch, blanket and victory.
You can not run from me. I am faster than you.
You can talk monster?
Yes, I can talk and I will win. I will devour you.
I have weapons.
They do not scare me.
The sun will protect me.
The sun is not fast enough.
The monster is right. I think he is a fast monster I won't make it to the door in time. What do I do now?
Monster do not eat me I am not tasty.
I do not eat you for taste I eat you for sport.
If you eat me my dad will kill you.
I am not scared.
Inspiration dawns on me. I stand up and begin jumping up and down with all my might. My dad yells at me and my mom wakes up and my sister is yelling too. The whole house is telling me to shut up but I cannot because I must defend myself. I jump and jump and jump and send my body crashing from the air to the bed with all the force I can muster. After ten more jumps the bed collapses and crushes the monster, killing him instantly. My dad bursts into the room and he is mad.
What is all that noise? What have you done to your bed?
I had to kill the monster.
I told you monsters don't exist.
I am victorious. I have saved the family.
You're grounded, you need to treat your things with more respect.
I am not sorry.
And what is that green goo? You are spending all morning tomorrow cleaning up this mess.
I do not mind that my dad is angry or that tomorrow will be spent cleaning and weeks will be spent indoors. I have conquered my room. No longer shall I be forced to hide on top of my bed. I won. I know your weakness I am power I am hungry I have weapons and I don't need the sun anymore. Fear me.
5.
4.
3.
2.
1.
Okay he's still there. He looks like socks and junk from under the bed but he's not. It's camo. He's baiting me to come down. But you're not tricking me you beast. I don't own a pair of green socks. Green socks do not shiver and quiver and are alive. Your trap will fail. I am safe up here, miles away on top of the bed. You don't scare me. I have weapons. I will make it till the morning and I will face you and destroy you. The sun is my tag team partner, we will crush you and make you face the fear you try to use against me. Come on sun where are you it's been forever.
Dad there's a monster under my bed can you please help me.
There's no such thing as monsters stupid.
Yes there is I'm not stupid.
I worked all day today go to bed you're a big boy.
I hate you.
Sweet dreams son.
What a useless dad. The sun won't let me down. He is all powerful and my ally. Did the bed just shake? The bed just shook. He is a powerful monster but I am stronger. I will not be eaten I am barely delicious. I think if I stand up and run and leap off the bed I can make it to the door and sleep on the couch. Monsters hate couches. There are no couch monsters. Five feet of running room and then a jump and then eight feet to the door. If I run like the wind the monster will never know what happened. He will wait for me on the bed and I will sleep on the couch, blanket and victory.
You can not run from me. I am faster than you.
You can talk monster?
Yes, I can talk and I will win. I will devour you.
I have weapons.
They do not scare me.
The sun will protect me.
The sun is not fast enough.
The monster is right. I think he is a fast monster I won't make it to the door in time. What do I do now?
Monster do not eat me I am not tasty.
I do not eat you for taste I eat you for sport.
If you eat me my dad will kill you.
I am not scared.
Inspiration dawns on me. I stand up and begin jumping up and down with all my might. My dad yells at me and my mom wakes up and my sister is yelling too. The whole house is telling me to shut up but I cannot because I must defend myself. I jump and jump and jump and send my body crashing from the air to the bed with all the force I can muster. After ten more jumps the bed collapses and crushes the monster, killing him instantly. My dad bursts into the room and he is mad.
What is all that noise? What have you done to your bed?
I had to kill the monster.
I told you monsters don't exist.
I am victorious. I have saved the family.
You're grounded, you need to treat your things with more respect.
I am not sorry.
And what is that green goo? You are spending all morning tomorrow cleaning up this mess.
I do not mind that my dad is angry or that tomorrow will be spent cleaning and weeks will be spent indoors. I have conquered my room. No longer shall I be forced to hide on top of my bed. I won. I know your weakness I am power I am hungry I have weapons and I don't need the sun anymore. Fear me.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Bad Art
The empty gallery was full of bad art. The near-full world, full of empty people. Blank faces, blank canvas, all saying the exact same thing. A world is full of bad art, and who to blame?
The sky is a palette of blues. The forests are dog-pound brown, unwanted and ugly. Everything was rather hideous this time of year, the leaves of the trees the color of the bark, the sky the color of the clouds, black and brooding. What an artless universe!
Go to the gallery where failures hang like pieces of art. Go to art school where bad art sits in their desks. Or look to the heavens, to the creator, the careless architect of this bad art. Is modernism a response to social movements, or like circles, something conceived at the start of this construct called time? For it seems to me that the world was created like a Jackson Pollock painting, god the careless artist, throwing paint against his great white canvas, praying in himself that it would all turn out okay.
The sky is a palette of blues. The forests are dog-pound brown, unwanted and ugly. Everything was rather hideous this time of year, the leaves of the trees the color of the bark, the sky the color of the clouds, black and brooding. What an artless universe!
Go to the gallery where failures hang like pieces of art. Go to art school where bad art sits in their desks. Or look to the heavens, to the creator, the careless architect of this bad art. Is modernism a response to social movements, or like circles, something conceived at the start of this construct called time? For it seems to me that the world was created like a Jackson Pollock painting, god the careless artist, throwing paint against his great white canvas, praying in himself that it would all turn out okay.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Monday, January 07, 2008
The Ceramony
We threw a dog on the fire, first. Dogs make for good kindling if good kindling means wet sticks and dirt. But we put the dog on anyways, burned it right their in the forest on a dry summer afternoon. Then we had a little bit of a ceremony.
We asked that the burning dog bring us certain things. It used to bring back the sticks we through into the forest, but it doesn’t do that anymore, but we were wanting something more profound then chewed up sticks. The dog doesn’t do much other then make smoke. Someone puts a tea pot on the fire and asks if anyone is thirsty. I take some chamomile because it helps me sleep at night.
I asked: burning dog, bring us sunlight so the grass will always grow. I asked: burning dog, fire so bright, please allow the moon to shine so we may see at night. I asked: burning dog, please make it so the wind blows, always. Please make it so the clouds in the sky stay ripe with water. The burning dog answered our wishes in its own burning way. Then the wind began to blow the dead dog smoke in my face and a child cried because his dog was burning in the fire but the clouds brought rain as the moon brought light, so we burned another dog the year following too.
We asked that the burning dog bring us certain things. It used to bring back the sticks we through into the forest, but it doesn’t do that anymore, but we were wanting something more profound then chewed up sticks. The dog doesn’t do much other then make smoke. Someone puts a tea pot on the fire and asks if anyone is thirsty. I take some chamomile because it helps me sleep at night.
I asked: burning dog, bring us sunlight so the grass will always grow. I asked: burning dog, fire so bright, please allow the moon to shine so we may see at night. I asked: burning dog, please make it so the wind blows, always. Please make it so the clouds in the sky stay ripe with water. The burning dog answered our wishes in its own burning way. Then the wind began to blow the dead dog smoke in my face and a child cried because his dog was burning in the fire but the clouds brought rain as the moon brought light, so we burned another dog the year following too.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Divine Intervention.
God: "Hey ladies! Let's get the partaaaay started...wait a second..what is this?"
Jesus: "God, have a seat. We need to talk"
God: "What kinda fuckery is this shit?"
Bhudda: "God, chill, we're here cause we're worried about you."
God: "Shut up Bhudda you fat fuck, I was promised Hennessey and blow"
Jesus: "Dad, chill, we're doing this because we love you'
God: "Stay out of this you little shit, if it wasn't for alcohol you wouldn't have been immaculately conceived"
Bhudda: "there is more to life than alcohol and narcotics'
God: 'It's easy to give up material possessions when you consume more twinkies than the state of Ohio Bhudda'
Vishnu: "Gentlemen, relax"
God: "Holy cow Vishnu, did you just get your tits done? Man, I should've given human females four hands. What say you and I go to the back and reach spiritual enlightenment"
Zeus: "You Vishnu"
God: "Oh no, not him"
Zeus: "Well I must say this is quite electrifying"
God: "Okay who the fuck invited Zues and his fucking puns. I thought the purpose of these things was not to make me want to kill myself"
Zeus: "God, I find your comments shocking"
God: "Oh, Nice man, real nice. I thought this was going to be a toga party when I saw you"
Thor: "Here ya, Mighty Thor has arrived, where be Thine bitches"
God: "Oh shit Thor's here, Dude finally someone worth talking to. What's up Gangster"
Thor: "Oh God, Thou are mad fly"
Bhudda: "Who invited Thor?"
Thor: "Thor does not need an invitation. Thor heard this was a loki event"
Jesus: "No stupid, it's a Low key event, as in, not a lot of people"
Thor: "What? Thine better be joking, Thor wanted to get Hammered tonight"
Vishnu: "Deities, relax. Can we get back to the matter at hand here? God, we're worried about you"
God: "Did I ask for your help biatch? Let's hurry this up, I have ten minutes before I have to go possess the body of Tom Brady"
Bhudda: "God, you have a serious problem"
God: "Listen, if you guys expect me to sit here and listen to this, I'm going to need a guiness"
Vishnu: "Lord Xenu, can you please get god a Guiness?"
Xenu: "Oh I see how it is. Xenu do this, Xenu do that, fuck you guys"
Jesus: "Just get the man a beer Xenu"
Xenu: "You're not the boss of me Jesus"
Zeus: "Trust me Xenu, Jesus is not someone you want to cross"
God: "I'm going to stab you Zues"
Satan: "Please god. You need to stop swearing. We all love you, you've been going out too much lately and want to make sure you're alright. Please God, listen to your friends"
God: "Satan? I told you not to talk to me anymore"
Satan: "Oh god, I'm so so sorry. Why can't you forgive me? It was ONE accident, I havn't seen Odin since that party and that kiss meant nothing, can I come back to heaven? I miss you"
God: "Bitch don't even start, all you do is lie to me and tell me what I want to hear."
Satan: "Baby, baby, don't be like that"
Ra: "Okay, I've had enough of this."
God: "Ra? What are you doing here man? I thought we were cool"
Ra: "We are cool man, but you're fucking this shit up. New Orleans? Man you spent that night doing Crack off Hera's chest."
Zeus: "You did what?!?!
Jesus: "Nice."
Thor: "Nice"
Bhudda: "Nice"
Ra: "Listen, I know you're all about free will man but let's be serious here dude. You got lazy. When it's famine and disease all of a sudden it's part of a master plan. But when It's rigging the super bowl and pimping out our escalades you have no problem stepping in with some omnipotent celestial might.
God: "Man is this because of the plagues and moses thing? How many fucking times do I have to apoligize"
Ra: "It's not about that God, I care about you. You were there for me during that rough patch with Anubis when no one else gave a shit. We've been through a lot man, and I just can't have you throw away all your potential on manifesting crack to pay for hookers in Vegas"
God: "I....I had no idea you felt that way man"
Ra: "Dude, you're like a brother to me. I would never have come to this lame ass shit if I didn't want my old friend back"
God: "I... I think I have a problem"
Bhudda: "It's okay God, we're here to help"
God: "Thanks guys, I think I'm going to be all right, hey you mind if I just go out for a smoke with Thor for a second?"
Vishnu: "Of course"
Jesus: "No problem"
Thor and god step out.
Thor: "Thou are ready to find a real party?"
God: "Fuck yes, let's get the fuck out of here before I kill everyone in that room. Hey, want to go see Tom Brady score 18 touchdowns?"
The end.
Jesus: "God, have a seat. We need to talk"
God: "What kinda fuckery is this shit?"
Bhudda: "God, chill, we're here cause we're worried about you."
God: "Shut up Bhudda you fat fuck, I was promised Hennessey and blow"
Jesus: "Dad, chill, we're doing this because we love you'
God: "Stay out of this you little shit, if it wasn't for alcohol you wouldn't have been immaculately conceived"
Bhudda: "there is more to life than alcohol and narcotics'
God: 'It's easy to give up material possessions when you consume more twinkies than the state of Ohio Bhudda'
Vishnu: "Gentlemen, relax"
God: "Holy cow Vishnu, did you just get your tits done? Man, I should've given human females four hands. What say you and I go to the back and reach spiritual enlightenment"
Zeus: "You Vishnu"
God: "Oh no, not him"
Zeus: "Well I must say this is quite electrifying"
God: "Okay who the fuck invited Zues and his fucking puns. I thought the purpose of these things was not to make me want to kill myself"
Zeus: "God, I find your comments shocking"
God: "Oh, Nice man, real nice. I thought this was going to be a toga party when I saw you"
Thor: "Here ya, Mighty Thor has arrived, where be Thine bitches"
God: "Oh shit Thor's here, Dude finally someone worth talking to. What's up Gangster"
Thor: "Oh God, Thou are mad fly"
Bhudda: "Who invited Thor?"
Thor: "Thor does not need an invitation. Thor heard this was a loki event"
Jesus: "No stupid, it's a Low key event, as in, not a lot of people"
Thor: "What? Thine better be joking, Thor wanted to get Hammered tonight"
Vishnu: "Deities, relax. Can we get back to the matter at hand here? God, we're worried about you"
God: "Did I ask for your help biatch? Let's hurry this up, I have ten minutes before I have to go possess the body of Tom Brady"
Bhudda: "God, you have a serious problem"
God: "Listen, if you guys expect me to sit here and listen to this, I'm going to need a guiness"
Vishnu: "Lord Xenu, can you please get god a Guiness?"
Xenu: "Oh I see how it is. Xenu do this, Xenu do that, fuck you guys"
Jesus: "Just get the man a beer Xenu"
Xenu: "You're not the boss of me Jesus"
Zeus: "Trust me Xenu, Jesus is not someone you want to cross"
God: "I'm going to stab you Zues"
Satan: "Please god. You need to stop swearing. We all love you, you've been going out too much lately and want to make sure you're alright. Please God, listen to your friends"
God: "Satan? I told you not to talk to me anymore"
Satan: "Oh god, I'm so so sorry. Why can't you forgive me? It was ONE accident, I havn't seen Odin since that party and that kiss meant nothing, can I come back to heaven? I miss you"
God: "Bitch don't even start, all you do is lie to me and tell me what I want to hear."
Satan: "Baby, baby, don't be like that"
Ra: "Okay, I've had enough of this."
God: "Ra? What are you doing here man? I thought we were cool"
Ra: "We are cool man, but you're fucking this shit up. New Orleans? Man you spent that night doing Crack off Hera's chest."
Zeus: "You did what?!?!
Jesus: "Nice."
Thor: "Nice"
Bhudda: "Nice"
Ra: "Listen, I know you're all about free will man but let's be serious here dude. You got lazy. When it's famine and disease all of a sudden it's part of a master plan. But when It's rigging the super bowl and pimping out our escalades you have no problem stepping in with some omnipotent celestial might.
God: "Man is this because of the plagues and moses thing? How many fucking times do I have to apoligize"
Ra: "It's not about that God, I care about you. You were there for me during that rough patch with Anubis when no one else gave a shit. We've been through a lot man, and I just can't have you throw away all your potential on manifesting crack to pay for hookers in Vegas"
God: "I....I had no idea you felt that way man"
Ra: "Dude, you're like a brother to me. I would never have come to this lame ass shit if I didn't want my old friend back"
God: "I... I think I have a problem"
Bhudda: "It's okay God, we're here to help"
God: "Thanks guys, I think I'm going to be all right, hey you mind if I just go out for a smoke with Thor for a second?"
Vishnu: "Of course"
Jesus: "No problem"
Thor and god step out.
Thor: "Thou are ready to find a real party?"
God: "Fuck yes, let's get the fuck out of here before I kill everyone in that room. Hey, want to go see Tom Brady score 18 touchdowns?"
The end.
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