don't go to the light!

Theme Thursday this week is LIGHT !!!
be like that moth and be drawn to
everyone else's posts...

things i have learned

When I was young I was told, who wasn't, you can do anything you want to. And I heard some guys say, I'll try anything once. Once my teacher asked, would you jump off a bridge if everyone else was doing it? I said no, of course, but then when everyone did, I followed.

You know what I mean. You see, just because someone says something is so, doesn't mean we'll believe it...until we see for ourselves. That's why I made love to the hairy manilla Angora carnivorous rope bridge creature of the Alps. Now here I am, reporting from the afterlife—yes there is one, but it is different for everyone—don't try it; I tried it, and I didn't like it, and some mistakes you just can't take back. But hey, if you don't believe me, I can draw you a map.

I had a book and a bottle of wine, which I gathered and took to the rooftop balcony one evening. The sky was calm, but there was a hint of the baby weather god's teeth in the air...it was nippy. Fancy that, a great big space peppered with lounge chairs and little tables, and just me, alone with a book and chilled libations. Not a bad gig, and I picked the first available seat overlooking the street and plopped into it. Book in lap, bottle in hand—oops, no glass. Go figure.

If you are very still, if you concentrate very hard, if you let the moment take you where it will, a dimension very near will swallow you up; you can exist in both your own, and an alien place that is like and unlike at once. It is strange but comforting, until the moment becomes real. The willpower it takes to break free may very well elude you—you must be very strong to try this or you will go insane and not even know why. I know people who've done this—so might you; they live in two different worlds and the variance is ripping their souls into ragged fragments that float like paper ash and gather in corners to disintegrate.

Yesterday I reached into a sock drawer and shook hands with myself. I was wearing a pith helmet and had a cheetah draped over one shoulder. I was so shocked that when I recoiled, I forgot to leave go of my hand and pulled from the drawer a mismatched pair of tube socks unmistakeably from the year 1975.

I drank straight from the bottle and after half was gone my interest in the book I'd brought along had migrated. Laying my book to one side, on the little coffee table, it seemed to be a resting bird. And indeed it became one, flitting off the table and fluttering close by. I stood and staggered, then followed the bird-book to the edge of the balcony, where naturally it flew from and beckoned for me to follow. The words of my teacher came back to me, and wisdom of my years warned me, but an interdimensionality cured me of my doubts and I took to the sky.

I'm not sure in which drawer I delved into the seedy lifestyle of the Angoran, and as I plummeted I wondered on my sanity, but life is full of surprises, and the ground is merely a fast stop on the merry-go-round of tomorrow's yesterday. My disco socks prove that.

I wondered which me would wear them tomorrow.

another headache

Tenth Daughter

of Memory entry

**ring
**ring
Mmm, good morning?
Oh, who? Oh, hello.
...yes. Yes, I'm glad you enjoyed that. Yes. Me too.
Well, yes. Yes, it was fun, and it was interesting.
That's not a bad thing—you know interesting is a good descriptive word...you don't have to take offense at my choice of words.
Alright, then it was fun...and. Um. Fun and educating.
Yea, I learned a lot. I learned stuff I never knew.
Right, that was definitely a first. Me too. You see? Interesting. Right, now you get it.
First off, let me say, I had no intention of ever calling you.
No, I don't want to have lunch. Or breakfast. God no!
Please stop, right there. You misunderstood. I said I didn't want to have breakfast.
Ha ha.
I see your point.
No. No. Sorry, I don't want to have lunch.
I'm not much of a coffee drinker either.
Wine? You're kidding, right?
I realize that. Yes, last night.
I'm sorry I gave you the wrong impression.
Well, it was your idea, remember? Of course. Yes I know...I didn't say no. True.
Well, I didn't want you to feel bad...I just kind of thought you'd...
What? No, I certainly don't want to upgrade.
I'm happy with my current arrangement.
Yes, yes. Exactly—we've been together for a good twenty years.
Ha...well, no. don't believe that means it's time for a change. No, I don't want you to call for me.
Later? Next week? No, I don't think I'll be changing my mind.
Ah, sure, whatever, if it makes you feel better. No, I won't just throw it away.
O.K. Sure.
No no, I'm sorry, no.
Yes, I am sure your automobile insurance is top rate, but you see, I just am not interested.
Yes, thank you for the pamphlet and the pencil—you're too kind. No, I don't need life insurance either.
**click.

**ring
**ring
**ring
sonofabitch, shit!

where i've been...

...to where i want to be--

home.

travelin'

Tom & Dinosaur Hand

Dinosaur Hand: when did we watch this movie, this Crazy Heart?
Tom: It was during your cowboy phase, remember?
D.H: Yeah! Howdy howdy!
Tom: I sort of liked Crazy Heart, but I'm a sucker for Jeff Bridges; have been since Fearless, a '93 flick, but he's pretty good in everything he does.
D.H: I'm not so impressed—when did he wear a cowboy hat?
Tom: Ah, maybe not in this movie...but he was wearing cowboy boots.
D.H: yeah yeah, in the puking drunk scene. Man, this guy is a loser. A vomiting puking ralphing genius.
Tom: Sure, but after a near tragedy he finally turns his pathetic life around and becomes everything he was always meant to be.
D.H: an accomplished puker?
Tom: oh shut up. How about that other movie, we watched it several weeks ago, do you remember what it was?
D.H: Do you mean Dr. Allegorius and the Supple Machine Appendages?
Tom: No. Not that one.
D.H: The Ambassador of Doom's 15 Kitten Women?
Tom: No! Shut up!
D.H: Well, then I don't remember.
Tom: Ha ha, I guess I don't either. Well, tonight is the All Star game, so no movies, right?
D.H: Thanks be!

DC sketch & a little ditty

She shuffled and dealt
I anted up—
we exchanged bits of ourselves
as easily as you'd play a hand
going all in she said I called her bluff
and gave it back in spades
I lost my shirt, she stole my heart
and never gave it back.

this doodle i drew sitting on a park bench under an arbor behind the apartment building my wife rented for 6 weeks.
the shadow people are borrowed from a later photograph, and at the bottom is a little nod to the area of town we were living, Pentagon City--a surreal Pentagon and memorial...although i'm not sure what the memeorial is; maybe airforce?

Dang! It's a war

!! this post doubles for Theme thursday's BALL, and the 10th Daughter of Memory's WAR!!

Oct. 02 13, 3:02:05: “or-no gadapples, enter the Snapple woods 'or the unflappability, smoke and dangle a herring, oh you bad-ass, silly head puddin' pie”.

Oct. 02 13, approx. 5:00 am: President of The United States of America awoken by chief of staff and informed of transmitted message from outer space.

Oct. 05 13: message is abandoned as a prank, SETI investigated.

Oct. 31 13, 12:01: Alien spacecraft hover over vacant soccer fields in every European and South American country. The spacecraft appear to be armored octopi of every shape, color, and dimension.

Oct. 31 13, 5:00, approx: SETI staff are released from prison to decipher new message, but their beards get in the way.
A reclusive woman in Ontario while smoking her 2000th cigarette has a premonition that leads scientists to an alien Rosetta stone. The message is translated into gibberish, but reads something to the effect of:
“allow us Garghouls to join your planetary league of Suckerball, or behave to feed you your brains to us.”
The Soccer Federation President agrees with the demands of the Garghouls after the Nigerian team is consumed later in the day. Preparations are made to hold World Cup soccer games ASAP, or sooner.

December 1 13: Garghouls learn many earthly languages and can fluently say “Malingering earthlings, your brains are high in protein” in every tongue, if with an otherworldly accent and lisp. The games are put on the front-burner.

January 1 14: The first ever out-of-cycle and Intergalactic World Cup Soccer games begin. Italy lands in the Space bracket with the Garghouls. The game is lopsided with the Garghouls wearing fluorescent streamers from their tentacles and employing a goalie as wide as a wooly mammoth, and that was only its oral cavity. Every time an Italian fell over and grabbed his shinbone, his brain was eaten. Several Garghoul forwards were red carded for dining on the field which ended badly for the officiating crew, who were summarily drained of their fluids.

January 3 through 7: Throughout the soccer community there is a mighty uproar, and over the following games between the Garghouls, Greece and Turkey, some fans rush the field and pelt the aliens with souvenir programs and blast horns. Garghouls take their ball and leave, vowing revenge on the tasty earthlings.

February 02 14: four months to the day from the initial transmission, fleets of alien warships appear over the great soccer fields of the planet earth, where they are met by painted soccer fans carrying sticks and brandishing sharp rocks. The announcement is made over deafening bullhorns, out of the sky: “Argh, we come to decimate puny earthlings, and score many goals, weak and pathetic whiny and soft pink brain holders. Prepare to serve up your innards.”
The ships land outside of the stadiums and to a tremendous fanfare the Garghoul soccer teams storm the fields with their squads of eleven players, and are easily beaten to death by insane throngs of rapid soccer fans.
Only the Tibetan team is unsuccessful, where the Garghouls successfully score 300 goals then consume the residents as they lay down in peace. The remaining Garghoul team is now on display in a Liverpool zoo where they foolishly skirmish and rugby groupies patrol the perimeter.

February 02 15: The first anniversary of the defeat of the Garghouls is celebrated worldwide, and the alien threat is thought to be extinct, as every inhabitant of the Garghoul world was soccer nutty and gave their lives to the cause of taking the World Cup and gaining universal dominance over the sport. SETI officials scour the galaxy for more signals of wacky aliens.

Long live the Federation Internationale de Football Association.

click picture to enlarge

p.s. this written after a dialogue with Jeff

of IRREX2

the war inside of me

for the 10th Daughter of Memory --this piece won for me my 3rd Tenth Daughter of Memory...wow!

I am sitting in my underwear, and a black hat. This loaded Winchester is cocked and loaded for bear, and I am waiting for you. So long ago, I can't remember now, but I did have some joy in my life—it was another world. One day you'll find me, again, I don't know what you are waiting for. Do you expect me to find pleasure again? Do you really think I would invite an innocent woman or a child into my life...just knowing you would return to cause their misfortune?
I have tied buckets of nails to the door jambs. Rolls of duct tape adorn my walls, and the ripped pages of magazines a shrine to your blatant acts of disrespect upon my world. Every penny I have is my contribution to the war effort—I will bring you down alone, for beside me there are no believers. I possess the only information to bring about the downfall of you, you and your evil ways.

You took away my life, now the only thing I own is hatred; everything else is reserved for you.

I was a carefree lad, accomplished, a woman at my side. We had success and spent it recklessly. The times we spent roaming the universe, rolling in the grass, hiking the pristine valleys that went unnoticed and never appeared on maps. At the park entrance I bought a rocking chair built from bone and horns, even that is a testament to my loathing—this chair I sit upon is a throne built for a king, the war room of your defeat. When you finally come I will be waiting here, for you. Thinking you will catch me unaware, maybe with my pants down? Ha, now you know I don't bother with them. Come on, bring it!

There are places in the wilds where people aren't meant to be. Perhaps the Indians knew of them, but they left no warning signs. Nothing is as remote on this planet as it used to be—maybe the indigents were unworried, or maybe they believed later generations had it coming to them; if it was a sacred spot we had no idea, and blindly we entered. For this we suffered mightily, and she died if only to break my spirit. When I escaped it was damaged, cracked enough to give my peers an uncommon look at a madman. Still, I recovered, renewed by a fervor that grew from my young body. I rebounded unaware of how powerful my foe really was, or of its desires. I didn't know yet what I'd released onto the world.

So I lived and found happiness, and I had a family. My love was strong and I was hardened and observant—forever on the look out; there was always something on the periphery...i didn't yet know how true that was.
I had everything; an office in the sky, faithful employees—they were like my family. My loved ones and I flew to every corner of the earth, but only the safe corners. We stayed far away from unexplored caves and the car was never outside of hiking distance. I became an expert in self defense, and had the funds to hire personal guards to watch over my family when I wasn't near.

I underestimated you. You took them away, all of them. A simple plane crash, but they died fighting. Then you sank your teeth into my fortress in the sky, and the results were devastating. Your servants are everywhere, inducted into your house of pain. Indoctrinated in hate, brainwashed. There are lofty goals, and then there are twisted ideals and perversion. I'll have none of it...not anymore.
This is all I have left, and I will wait in the chair I've reserved for you. You know I am here, so stop ravaging the land searching; stop your procrastination and come find me, our mutual hate has to count for something, you owe me this war, and I'll have it, worm of death!

My black hat is a sign, a token of my respect. I will defeat you the only way I know how, and that is to become like you. In this you have won, to turn me, but it will taste bitter, this victory, in your defeat.

untit-led

Caligula's rabbit
exists
in a spectral plane
brown wrapper
and is food
unmistakeably
unlike Schrodinger's cat
which is neither
here nor there.