All was even on the land; Einstein had proven the world
was in fact flat, due to the gravitational well, created by the planet's mass,
that distorted the two-dimensional plane of the surface into an illusory (and
entirely mathematically unnecessary) 'three dimensions'.
As said, all was even on the land, and where was
There has to be a hole into the earth
somewhere,
she said to herself. This can't be everything! Ah, the ennui!
She searched, knowing it shouldn't be far away, and she
found it. An ordinary abandoned well.
Down she flew into the well, and everything changed about
her.
She was bigger than everything, and smaller than
everything. The familiar was strange, fact became fiction, inside went out, she
was the air pressure on skin.
She took a spade and shovelled down further.
Everything got hotter, then it
started getting cooler.
She broke through into a large chamber that turned out to
be the surface and beyond.
All under a high canopy of blue, a very large chamber it
was.
*
So, this guy.
I originally knew his brother better. They--mother,
father, two sons--moved into the house across the street. The father worked in
slate and tile, the mother did mother things. The older boy I knew first, then
I knew the younger.
Mostly in the summers when there wasn't much else to do.
We hung around, off and on, for seven or so years.
It must have been greed or some other vice that caused me
to hang around with him. He wasn't really all that nice. He'd throw darts at my
feet. He punched me once so hard I couldn't breathe. He tried to start a fight
with someone, expecting me to back him up.
After I moved away, after he moved away, he continued
being crazy. In fact, thinking that his neighbour was going to harm his
slate-working father, my friend murdered said neighbour. And
was arrested. And went to jail.
A couple years later I heard that the slate-working father
had died of cancer. My friend had gone to the funeral, in shackles, accompanied
by two guards.
He didn't have much going for him, but he was my friend. I
do have a soft spot.
*
The New Tamburlaine: A Novel
Book Two
PART ONE
Chapter Two
1.
Having
examined the wooden panel and having heard some kind of scratching and not
having yet covered her naked breasts even after more than a year Janet is
sitting and wondering what to do. She covers her naked breasts loosely with a
handy robe and gets out of bed. The panel is close. She moves to the panel. She
sets her right hand flat upon the panel. It's humming! Oh! There's a water pipe
behind it, adjusting to the 20th century! It's not Frederick Stout after all!
And here I was, bare-breasted for over a year!
Back
to bed she goes, hoping to get a good night's sleep. To make herself drowsy,
she aligns the humours with the seasons with the compass points with the
elements. When's breakfast? Country life. Melancholy. Easy: winter. The phlegmatic should be autumn
because they're cold-nosed. Then there's the, what? The
choleric. Something earthy, they're earth, naturally. So tired! I'm not
getting this right. Sanguine's the other one. Have I
named all four? Melancholy is autumnal, everyone knows that. They're the earth
ones. Sanguine. Summer of course. I wonder what Stout
is doing?
*
Zoroaster Manitou
A
sign reads END OF HIGHWAY thirty yards
From
where she has her restaurant, beside
The
corner store her sister operates.
You'd
think this was the edge of everything
But
no because there's water flatly laid
Across
the highway moored upon by boats
From
upper
Or
other places on the upper seas
Of
Do
come, to see her Persian self and eat
From
fires she made and worshipped over all.
A
beacon lit in
She's
kept alive since into exile by
The
Ayatollah she was cast because
Of
her beliefs and by her Magic was;
And
now her heat attracts the boats that might
Have
sailed the
The
Channel North, the salts so tired of salt
In
every food they've stored beneath their decks
As
if a salt negates a flame alit (when yet
In
actuality a greenish blue
It
burns and by coincidence her eyes
Do
match the burn of salts, the fire of salt).
So
there she burns in worship of herself,
Upon
a rocky prominence a star,
An
aid to navigation's livelihoods,
A
beacon bodified, a brilliant light!
*
I got to the bar before Chris did. I ordered up a pitcher
because I knew we'd both be getting really drunk.
About ten minutes later, in he came. The pint I'd already
poured for him.
It had been a couple-three years,
so we had some trouble starting our talking.
I said, "How have you been?"
"Fine. This beer
for me?" He lifted it and downed half. Same old
Christopher.
"Ever been here before?"
He looked around. "No. But a good
choice. So, keeping busy?"
"Yeah. Just got
back from
Just then the bartender came over. He said to Christopher,
"You'll have to leave now."
I said, "Wait. What's wrong? What's he done?"
The bartender said, "This man, this Christopher Maranz, does not belong here. He belongs in prison. He's
wanted for murders in thirty states. He killed both his parents. He raped his
sister, then murdered her. He's a chronic arsonist. He
hasn't done a day's work in his life. And look at him, sitting there. Covered
in blood, with four arms and two heads, naked as the day he was born, drooling,
stinking something fierce, and he won't stop masturbating."
I said, "But ... he's my friend."
*
"Only if you get me ...
the hope diamond for Christmas."
"Sure thing, Trix. I'll get you your hope diamond."
It was only after I got on the Internet that I found out
it should have been capitalized, Hope Diamond.
This would be tricky. It's in
This'll take some bribes. How much should I pay? I guess
something like twenty bucks per should do it. But it'll probably get like more
expansive the closer I get to the thing itself.
Fortunately it's only the size of like a walnut.
I'm going to drive down there next weekend. This museum, I
guess it's not open at nights. (Seen that movie, Night at the Museum? Pretty
funny stuff that.)
Then it's getting into the museum finding the box it's in,
grabbing it, and amscray.
There's apparently a curse on it. Dunno.
I'm taking it. I'll drive on back home, then over to Trixie's
place. "I got it," I'll say.
Then I'll give her the Hope Diamond, and maybe then
she'll let me see it.
*
The Family Fence
Story is, Jack's great-great-great-great-grandfather told
that the fence was something built way before his time. He wrote (in a
published work) that the fence had always been there.
It's been painted so many times. We're adding to it all
the time.
It makes us feel close.
June started with stripes on one section, then she started
to make them twist and turn. It's like a big mess of snakes now, my goodness.
Bobby ("The Scholar") wrote on it. He wrote a
proof of the fence's existence, then an argument disproving his proof. Coming
to the conclusion that it couldn't be proven to exist at all. He's still
working on it. Reads a lot of books, about fences.
Jack, of course, he's the really talented one. He's got a
mural stretching off so far sometimes we don't see him for days and days. He
says he can see, in the distance, where his father had painted.
At the bottom of the whole thing, that's where I paint my
flowers. Hundreds and hundreds of flowers, right down to the
concrete. Stand three feet back and they look real. But never four feet
back. We never stand four feet back.
*
New website!
Take a tour!
Up here we have our contact information!
Home! Info! Contact us! Links! Other links!
And up over here we have your contact information!
My account! My login! My help! My links! My contacts! My
Social Insurance Number!
Trust us! Your privacy is important to us! We would never
release you[socket.unlink.st523454195/errorcode0219]
Here's a sidebar of advertisements directed especially at
you! We didn't put them there, so don't blame us for the penis pump ads or the lonelyhearts listings!
This is a list of websites we've made for you to peruse:
most are friends, some are backscratchers, some are
paid for: don't blame us for dead links, and don't write to use about them!
We'll get around to maintenance some day!
Down here's the usual EULA disclaimers!
And here, here's the heart of the thing! What you came
here for! Fresh content, seven new items a day, mostly what you expect from the
internet, slightly re-written cribs from other sites! (Which
will be scrubbed when detected!)
Merchandise! Wear our advertisements! Mugs, shirts,
magnets, bowls, bongs, stickers, gifs, underwear, letterhead, books, records,
motion pictures, cross-promotions, shady materials, brown paper parcels, aids,
drugs, drinks!
Have a blast! And welcome!
*
2014. Tom and Jerry shorts may depict some ethnic
and racial prejudices that were once commonplace in American society. Such
depictions were wrong then and are wrong today.
2064. Lord of the Rings may depict some religious
and technological prejudices that were once commonplace in
2114. Musical notation may consist of temporal
and spatial prejudices that were once commonplace in the
2164. All information from the year 2163
undoubtedly consists of moral and ideological prejudices that were then
commonplace in Greater Peru. Such depictions were wrong then and are wrong
today.
2214. Ṭōma anē Jērī śōrṭsa Gujarātī samājamāṁ ēka vakhata sāmān'ya hatā kē kēṭalāka vanśīya anē vanśīya pūrvagrahō nirūpaṇa śakē chē. Āvā nirūpaṇa pachī khōṭuṁ hatā anē ājē khōṭuṁ chē.
2364.
Bang rocks wrong! Bang rocks wrong! T'nug gone to
sky! Great bird! Magic from the small sound! Such depictions were wrong then and are wrong today!
2314. Ancient comments from Whoopi
Goldberg and amazon.com may depict some ethnic and racial prejudices that were
once commonplace in American society. Such depictions were wrong then and are
wrong today.
*
Whilst I was synchronizing a 22.8 bassline
with a separately recorded vocal line of oohs and aahs, the federales busted down
my door again.
They said, "So what's all this then? Working here? Your licence? Come on, come on."
I showed them my licence. They passed it around snickering
intimidatingly.
"What are you doing here then?" they asked.
"I'm just trying to lay down a good track. That's
all. That's really all."
They kicked over my piano. "What tempos are you
using?"
"What?"
"Are they fast?"
"Sometimes."
"There's a limit on that now. Beats Per Minute like."
"Why?"
"Why?"
"Why?"
"Environmentalism. We don't want too much
sound. Spread it out. There's no need to use all you kilowatts all at
once."
"I see. So slower songs, are they better?"
"Not just better. Not actionable."
"Ah, actionable. That word."
"Got a problem with that word?"
"No. None at all."
"So, make sure your songs are slower."
"I will."
"We were here last week. Have you used the keys b♯, c♭, f♭, or e♯ since then?"
"Not
once."
"Not even
when modulating from a relative major?"
"Not even
then."
"Good."
They were leaving. "Slow songs. In people's keys. We are the federale."
*
So it's now such-and-such a date, and you're ahead of me I
think by one day. Is that the way it works? Sometimes I have trouble with
space.
So whatever happened about that fence you were building?
Did it come out okay? Did the permits come through? You chose the right colour,
if you haven't changed your choice since you mailed my the
swatch. You'll have the best fence in your neighbourhood. That's the way I see
it.
Oh, look at the time. I'm sure you have plenty to do,
don't you? I believe I'll mosey on along too. So, take care of yourselves, dear
*
Walking on up
I was unaware of most of the dangers around me. Lots and
lots of funny-smelling people all over the place! It was like reading an
encyclopaedia of humankind. The people looked at me as I ran along, all afraid
of grabbing at me to ask me, "Hey, boy, where you headed, who are
you?"
Finally some guy got me by the collar and kneeled down
with me. "What are you doing here?" While he was checking out my
collar, reading it I guess, my real master showed up.
"You got him!" master said.
The other guy said, "This is your dog?"
"Yes." He got away from me down at the lake. I
was untangling his leash."
The leash was then attached to me.
Then we were heading back to the lake, past all the smelly
people. It's so fun being a dog. People care.
*
An Obituary
Four days ago, J- S- died, surrounded by his wife, his
three children, and his seven grandchildren.
He began life with
great promise, and died with his great promise fulfilled.
In his career in engineering, he invented and perfected
many life-saving devices, many economical building principles, and very many
computer engineering breakthroughs.
He married his childhood sweetheart, and they enjoyed many
years, from the ages of twenty-two on, surrounded by young smiles.
His wife continues to represent her riding politically at
the federal level.
The children are a doctor, a teacher, and a lawyer.
He left a note behind, which read:
I often wonder why I was saddled with
this existence. Why could it not have been otherwise? I should have been
something else entirely. I should have been a writer, a sloppy writer of
half-baked misshapen things; I should have been almost isolated from everyone
by the time I was fifty. I should have been irritable and melancholy. I never
should have learned how to drive! Why wasn't I born to be borderline autistic?
Why did I not alienate my family? What happened to that life I did not lead?
Where is this other, more authentic, me?
*
The Town Elephant and the Country
Elephant
A country elephant invited his cousin (a town elephant)
out for a visit to the country.
The town elephant packed up his trunk and headed for Town
Station.
The town elephant was picked up at Country Station by his
cousin and away they drove to the country elephant's country home.
The country elephant served his cousin a meal. Acorns, and lots of them!
The town elephant turned up his trunk. "Have you no
peanuts?"
"What are peanuts?" asked the country elephant.
"Why! I never! I eat them by the thousands in town!
You've never eaten a scrumptious peanut?"
"Never."
Next day the town elephant took the country elephant to
town. The country elephant had never seen so many people before!
"Where do they all fit?" he asked.
"Wherever they can!" came
the answer.
In the town elephant's cramped flat, they sat down to eat,
a big bowl of peanuts between them.
"Let me show you," said the town elephant,
taking one up gently.
"Squeak!"
"What was that noise?" cried the country
elephant.
"That was just a town mouse."
"Aiiie!"
The country elephant ran all the way home.
Best be content with your lot!
*
Dream Lover
Winnebago rumbling around us and the raw blasted granite
walls of the
There's a smooth cut here as a cat jumps on him causing
the Winnebago, the Canadian Shield, and the Dream Lover to vanish into
nothingness, so he tries to re-capture the environment of dark woods with the
rumble of a Winnebago growing dim, but this image does not behave as un-coercedly genuine, rather like yesterday's news that can't
be changed or made to behave in any other way no matter what you do.
Sometime later, his heart stops and his brain stops
functioning. His girlfriend dreams about him. Here he is, acting freely, being
in character, and then a truck backs up beeping outside, and he is gone, again.
She tries to get back to the lively dream lover, but he's just a mannequin now,
gone in the morning light, gone in time.
*
Character
"Let's go there," shouted the chronically
insecure Leroy Peebles, customarily brushing his fingers through his hair as if
searching for another of his outrageous ideas that never quite came off.
Peebles was the son of a
"I don't know if we'll be welcome at all,"
announced Janice Patrimony-Matrimony, pushing her bosom out almost so far that
she would need red flags descendent to avoid arrest for traffic violations.
This week, her hair was blue. She was known all over town for her sudden
movements and outré hand signals. Once, she bartered a Pekinese for a washing
machine that had no rinse cycle.
"I'll catch up with you," blurted Antonio Epidemonos as he unconsciously fondled his lower depths.
Without his beloved Mabel by his side he really didn't know what to do with
himself or his parts. Perhaps yesterday he discovered she had been unfaithful
to him with certain foreigners, or perhaps tomorrow he would uncover a plot
designed to make him believe he had been snubbed at nightclubs to which he
never went.
*
"Hello? Nick, oh, hello! How have you been? You okay?
You're kidding, you're back! Geez, we never thought
we'd see you again around here. What's it, like a year? Back
again, you son of a gun, well. You know, that was a pretty messy
business there. Yeah, no kidding! Escorted out and everything! So, what's. You
do? Same gig? What a world. Yeah, yeah, laying low.
You know, I proposed a show for you. Yeah, really I did. It didn't go very far,
though. Not much past the title, sorry, I have to say it was something of a
joke on my part, but you never know. Yeah, working title was Lodovico. Lodovico. You know, from A Clockwork Orange? Yeah, a reality show, with you front and centre. No, nowhere. Someone said it was unethical, immoral, at the very
least illegal. So I had to drop it. So, same job, huh? Sorry, I'm amazed they
let you come back. Sure, I know. So what was the condition? Oh my God! What
kind? I mean, was it just chemical, or was it with a knife? Ah. That's too bad.
Que sera sera. But you got your job back! Time
for coffee?"
*
Through the Looking Glass
Alice and the Red Queen continued to talk whilst they
drank tea and ate crumpets. There continued to discuss current events of a
thousand years before or a thousand years hence, for such are the current
events over in the looking glass world.
The Red Queen said, "All except for logic, for which
a grant a zero. Meaning nothing else can ever make sense."
"Perhaps you are right."
"The world is flat. This is proven."
"I don't know about that."
"Which proves you know little of
logic."
"Should you not have cried, 'Off
with her head!'?"
The Queen smiled broadly. "That line has been
literalized too often, on the other side of the mirror. I fear a copyright
infringement."
"From whom?"
"From those you illogically tolerate."
"Let us not go there."
"A Muslim killed your soldier."
"He was not a Muslim."
"I will bet you three-to-one he was."
"O! I would never bet on such a thing! Two people are
dead!"
The Red Queen smiled. "Stop fretting,
