Throughout life people go through many changes, some which affect them more greatly than others. In the short stories, "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?", by Joyce Carol Oates, and "The Red Convertible", by Louise Erdrich, the characters of Connie and Henry are dynamic in that they go undergo changes that affect their lives so irrevocably that they will never again be the same. A catalyst induces the changes in both characters and neither change has a positive affect on the character's life.
Prior to the changes, both characters are more naive and innocent about the world around them. During the introduction of "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?", Connie is portrayed as "fifteen and she had a quick nervous giggling habit of craning her neck to glance into mirrors." She also fights with her mother constantly and has begun to fool around with boys. Connie is a normal American girl on the brink of her adolescence. During the introduction of "The Red Convertible", Henry is also portrayed as naive and innocent. He buys a car with his brother, Lyman, and they go on a road-trip that lasts the entire summer. During the end of the road trip, when they are with Susy, a girl with whom they had been staying in Alaska after picking her up somewhere in the Midwest and driving her all the way home, Susy lets her long hair out and Henry puts her on his shoulders and spins her around, saying, "I always wondered what it was like to have long hair." Clearly, Henry is fun loving, carefree and spontaneous.
In both stories there is the presence of a catalyst, which induces the negative changes in the characters. In "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" the catalyst is the character of Arnold Friend, who drives his golden jalopy to Connie’s house one Sunday when her parents are not home to try and convince her to come for a ride with him. The character of Arnold Friend represents the "demonic lover", in that he has supernatural powers that make him irresistible to Connie. He is demonic in that he possesses the telepathic ability to view the activities of her family members at the barbeque they were attending at her aunt ’s house, along with the fact that his foot doesn’t fit properly into his boot, making it appear stuffed, which represents the cloven foot of the devil. For Henry, in "The Red Convertible", the catalyst is the Vietnam War. After Henry and Lyman come home from Alaska, Henry is called upon to serve in the Army, for which he had previously "signed up". Before long he is stationed in Vietnam where he soon becomes a Prisoner of War.
As a result of the change that was induced by the catalyst, both Connie and Henry’s lives are negatively and irrevocably affected. For Connie, the change starts to occur while Arnold Friend is outside, seemingly trying to convince her to come for a ride with him. At one point she attempts to seek refuge in the kitchen, a room in the house that she and her family had occupied for three years, but it begins to be unrecognizable to her. "The kitchen looked like a place she had never seen before, some room she had run inside but which wasn’t good enough." The change intensifies during the climax of the story, when Connie runs back into the house after speaking again with Arnold Friend, hitting her leg on the table, with a roaring in her ear that amplifies as she picks up the telephone for help but can only scream into the receiver. Like the kitchen, the telephone, a device she has used for much of her life, has become unrecognizable to her. At the resolution of the story, when she walks outside to go with Arnold Friend, she is gazing in awe upon all this land that she had never seen before now that she had changed, because when she had looked upon it before she was naive and innocent, two of the qualities she used to possess that Arnold Friend, the "demonic lover", had taken away. In "The Red Convertible", after being a Prisoner of War and coming back home, Henry ’s entire personality changes. He has become quiet, barely stringing even six words together, and he never seems to sit still. He seems to occupy himself solely by sitting in front of the television, which is where he was when he once bit all the way through his lip without even noticing. This change is so negative and disturbing to his family that they consider admitting him to a mental health facility, but as Native Americans living on a reservation, they did not trust the mental health providers, his mother stating, "they just give them drugs." During the end of the story, at the bank of the Red River, even when it seems to his brother Lyman that Henry is acting like his old self again, laughing and playing about, he jumps into the river and kills himself, which proves that the change her underwent was irrevocable.
Sometimes changes can affect one so greatly that they will never be the same again. This is true of the dynamic characters, Connie and Henry, in the short stories, "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" and "The Red Convertible." During the introduction of these stories, both characters were more naive and innocent and, better off as a whole than they were after the change occurred, which had been induced by the catalysts of Arnold Friend and the Vietnam War. These literary works seem to reflect a universal truth about real life and provide a means for their audience to relate, as most people also go through life-changing events, which affect them so irrevocably that their lives will indeed never be the same again.
Friday, November 24, 2006
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
nothing
she
could do nothing
but wait
for her pulsing veins
to pump blood
over
the vastest of
expanes.
but not before
her pulsing veins
pumped blood
over
the smallest of
expanses.
could do nothing
but wait
for her pulsing veins
to pump blood
over
the vastest of
expanes.
but not before
her pulsing veins
pumped blood
over
the smallest of
expanses.
Monday, November 13, 2006
my own Self
Today I felt a feeling that I had not experienced in a long time. Like all feelings, it is not tangible, and therefore, can not be expressed in words, but nonetheless, I will try. College. The ideal of college is, in American society, supposed to be a second coming of age for budding adults, the age of responsibility. Students are expected to have their share of fun, but also maintain a strong well-rounded academic life, which centers around working toward their career goals.
Well when I went away to college, I was working on something, but it sure wasn't my career goals. How could it be. I was a journalism BS major, which to me was B.S. for bullshit.
Half the time I was wasting away in margarita ville, which usually also included smoking enough pot to give an anorexic the munchies and snorting codeine or cocaine or whatever I could get off of some one's desk. When I wasn't fucked up I was in paranoid stages of a nervous breakdown, or so depressed that I could barely even lift my head from the pillowcase, and I suppose that's where the feeling of unnameable dread came in.
Before I dropped out in the middle of my fourth semester, I carried around a feeling of unnameable dread all of the time. I hated being there. I hated my boogers freezing in the cold winter air. I hated drinking. I hated smoking. And mostly, I hated that I couldn't do either because part of my sanction from my lovely outpatient rehab facility that the school had enforced upon me included random drug tests.
I would call up my mother and told her that I hated it there, that I couldn't wait to see them. I think the time when the ball finally broke was when I got arrested for calling some girl that I didn't even know when I was drunk and threatening to kill her.
The feeling of unnameable dread is that horrible feeling when you know that you aren't where you want to be and you feel like you are so far away from the path that leads to it. Or maybe you feel like the path doesn't exist. Maybe you'll feel like you'll never get anywhere, and you deserve it. You think you're crazy. You think you're stupid. You think that you're a drug addict, an alcoholic and a slut. But most of all, you think you're never going to get any better.
And this feeling, it isn't gradual. It's not like a wave that comes over me at random times in my life. It was like a parasite, always there, feeding upon my happiness and turning it to pain, infecting me. And I knew that it was there. I knew that I should have gone to the doctor and had the parasite removed, but I felt like I couldn't leave.
But you know what, I came home. I came home and got a good job with an amazing ex-dentist, now-lawyer. And I also got other good things in certain aspects of my life. I stopped slutting around. I stopped doing pills. I still drink, but not nearly as much, and I only smoke pot occasionally.
But you know what, regardless of what I do or don't do or did or didn't do or any combination thereof, I grew up. And most people will tell you that so much growing up is done in college and it makes you smarter or more well rounded or whatever. But for me, college meant the feeling of unnameable dread. I came home and the feeling of unnameable dread still descends upon me sometimes, but never as much as it did when I was four hours away from home, stuck in the mud of the circular path that goes nowhere.
And that's something that society couldn't give me, nor could my former college town. Nor could a pill or a line or a parasite. But only my. own. self
Well when I went away to college, I was working on something, but it sure wasn't my career goals. How could it be. I was a journalism BS major, which to me was B.S. for bullshit.
Half the time I was wasting away in margarita ville, which usually also included smoking enough pot to give an anorexic the munchies and snorting codeine or cocaine or whatever I could get off of some one's desk. When I wasn't fucked up I was in paranoid stages of a nervous breakdown, or so depressed that I could barely even lift my head from the pillowcase, and I suppose that's where the feeling of unnameable dread came in.
Before I dropped out in the middle of my fourth semester, I carried around a feeling of unnameable dread all of the time. I hated being there. I hated my boogers freezing in the cold winter air. I hated drinking. I hated smoking. And mostly, I hated that I couldn't do either because part of my sanction from my lovely outpatient rehab facility that the school had enforced upon me included random drug tests.
I would call up my mother and told her that I hated it there, that I couldn't wait to see them. I think the time when the ball finally broke was when I got arrested for calling some girl that I didn't even know when I was drunk and threatening to kill her.
The feeling of unnameable dread is that horrible feeling when you know that you aren't where you want to be and you feel like you are so far away from the path that leads to it. Or maybe you feel like the path doesn't exist. Maybe you'll feel like you'll never get anywhere, and you deserve it. You think you're crazy. You think you're stupid. You think that you're a drug addict, an alcoholic and a slut. But most of all, you think you're never going to get any better.
And this feeling, it isn't gradual. It's not like a wave that comes over me at random times in my life. It was like a parasite, always there, feeding upon my happiness and turning it to pain, infecting me. And I knew that it was there. I knew that I should have gone to the doctor and had the parasite removed, but I felt like I couldn't leave.
But you know what, I came home. I came home and got a good job with an amazing ex-dentist, now-lawyer. And I also got other good things in certain aspects of my life. I stopped slutting around. I stopped doing pills. I still drink, but not nearly as much, and I only smoke pot occasionally.
But you know what, regardless of what I do or don't do or did or didn't do or any combination thereof, I grew up. And most people will tell you that so much growing up is done in college and it makes you smarter or more well rounded or whatever. But for me, college meant the feeling of unnameable dread. I came home and the feeling of unnameable dread still descends upon me sometimes, but never as much as it did when I was four hours away from home, stuck in the mud of the circular path that goes nowhere.
And that's something that society couldn't give me, nor could my former college town. Nor could a pill or a line or a parasite. But only my. own. self
The End of A New Beginning
All semblence of a real home for my family departed long ago. What it left in its place was the shitty little old dilapodated shack, complete with broken windows and chipped paint.
Termites infest the walls of this house, this house that is not a home. With their jagged little teeth they chew into the framework of this house, weakening it with every piece of wood they bite into.
This weak house. The people inside it hear them and they let out a shriek of terror each time the termites take an audible bite of wood. They watch and wait in fear to see the termites scattering across the kitchen floors, but they can not stop the termites. There is no way to, at least according to them.
They don't even know the reason. They don't even know if there is a reason. But what they do know is that the termites have been there for a long time, generations upon generations, and will be there for generations upon generations. And they will never stop breaking down the house.
And once they have chewed through all the framework, and are scattering across the kitchen floor in droves, and the screams of the inhabitants can be heard from a mile away, the inhabitants will run and the house will fall down. And the leader of the termites will go to the highest point of the ruins, because they have won.
But there will always be another house for the termites to break down. The family understands this. So they go from house to house, and houses fall and fall after them. And the termites rejoice every time.
Eventually the time of the family has come to pass, but before they pass, they leave descendents. And like the family, the descendents can not stop the termites from breaking down their houses. And like the family, they do not know the reason.
And eventually, the termites break down all the houses of all their descendents until their times have come to pass. And there is no one else in the family who has a house to break down. And the leader of the cockroaches goes to the highest point of the ruins of the last descendent's house, and he makes an accouncement.
"It is the end," he says, "The end of a new beginning."Sunday, November 12, 2006
nameless .10
Twisted lines
Those lines we twist
and turn into
our boundaries
cross
and Hell
breaks loose
like the twisted line
your strings
doth turn into
pulled by them
and you
twisting
pulling
until
crash into
what once thought
was you
erupt
then turn
into
what gets
the better
every time
damn twisted line
not lax
not straight
that makes
me turn into
Hell broken loosenameless .09
corner turning
confiscated your heart
health dimished
and family torn into the shred
deeper inside
hiding from the tearer
hiding from the bearer
won't be torn into
like you
no
walked in your footsteps
never really happy
bolting from the scene
so as not to scream
and then again
and again the shredder
and again
the heartache
and again
the vacant room
after womb
many miles walked to
away from you
my bargain
your suffering
as the shredder
and you
split
into
nameless .08
Inescapeable plan
the dark path waits
to be treaded on
so uncarefully again
in the distance
i see it
my chance for another life
as far away from this one
as andromena from milky way
twitch too often
ignore the smoke
the haze that fogs
all doubt and
preteen instances of
insecurity
some never grow
the bonsai trees
society's
so redwood trees
can plentifully populate
the smaller forest
shining white
that ill smile you wore
fashioned by
lasers
smooth faces
fashioned by
scalpels
the poor slobs
beg on the streets
to be
as beautiful as you
when you're thirteen
and you don't eat
she better be
as beautiful as you
inescapable plan
for all of us to be
so fucking
perfectly imperfect
perfect bodies
imperfect minds
nevermind the monster
nevermind the vomit
just be yourself
as long as its not
fat and ugly
i wont do it
i will not walk the path
that claimed so many casualties
of image's destruction
but the other life
so far away
the path is laid before my feet
and that's where they'll stay
so I can perish
at the cost of image
as my predecessors did
a not so lofty bargain
for the pain
that begins
with your first step
on the dark path
shamless self pity
opening and shutting the shut shutters of my mind eurthymic rhythm so not eurthymic and miss world drowning in the cacophany smile and wave and flip a page and die and die another day impressed by your brevity a thousand years standing is ye and a thousand years dead is me hopeless shadows filling the void fulfilling the absymal lucidity that I never really was and those who stay there do not speak they just circulate you and me and the poison frog your poision's choosing shoot me with an arrow for there is nothing left too many slices cut and evenly distributed to ravenous beasts and the like of all who have sucked from me that which can't be sucked wasting the wasted killing the dying and the catalyst for that which can never be named except during moments of brevity oh so long ago and miles miles away
to live
Nothing ever changes
in the house of broken dreams.
The door's been black
for a long time now,
And it's all
as it seems.
Twenty-one years,
not counting it,
all odds against,
I don't know why.
Unearthly
Earthbound
Existance,
filled with
Nothing,
no work,
no play,
just idle days.
Make a plan,
Make a plan,
Maybe we'll suceed,
Or fail
Fail
Fail
Fail,
my tails spinning
the same circle
As so long
Ago.
Let it show,
Let it Show,
and then
they go,
till there is
no one left
to share with
this broken
Dream,
And no money
Never any
And if you'd
Work hard
to get some
than it wouldn't be
as it seemed.
But all is crumbling
around me
Except the
Insurmountable
Surmountable
Burdens
that blind the eyes
of those who believe
that just because
they were
Maligned
they don't
deserve
to live.
Believe
Why do we
refuse to believe
What we need
Dawn's a dusky shadow
but
Hope is lost
In the
Darkness
Many days
For it
We wept
Want
Adjacent to our shadow
A small one
So she can live
A different life
Walk in stride
Have prodigious
talent
Paint rainbows
In the
Overcast
So not
To make
Her gray
You want
her to
Believe
But there is
No
Small
Shadow.
Space
Adjacent
is vacant
But even if
The row
was filled
small shadows
Your heart
Would still
be vacant
Because
you don't
Believe
refuse to believe
What we need
Dawn's a dusky shadow
but
Hope is lost
In the
Darkness
Many days
For it
We wept
Want
Adjacent to our shadow
A small one
So she can live
A different life
Walk in stride
Have prodigious
talent
Paint rainbows
In the
Overcast
So not
To make
Her gray
You want
her to
Believe
But there is
No
Small
Shadow.
Space
Adjacent
is vacant
But even if
The row
was filled
small shadows
Your heart
Would still
be vacant
Because
you don't
Believe
crash metal crash
metal on metal
collide
spin cylindrical tools
ancient yet new
archaic yet modern
mind
my mind spun
with them
and with them
my mind did collide
as they collided
with mine
crashing
you wish to be smashed into
the pieces
that you are
hold together
tell them
unify body
and mind
but all the time
in between
okay
and
insanity
the pills
perpendicular
to your
stomachwall
as it crashes into
your large intestine
and collides with
your seratonin
will you ever find
your
mind
or will you
crash
into
pieces
and collide
never to unify
again
collide
spin cylindrical tools
ancient yet new
archaic yet modern
mind
my mind spun
with them
and with them
my mind did collide
as they collided
with mine
crashing
you wish to be smashed into
the pieces
that you are
hold together
tell them
unify body
and mind
but all the time
in between
okay
and
insanity
the pills
perpendicular
to your
stomachwall
as it crashes into
your large intestine
and collides with
your seratonin
will you ever find
your
mind
or will you
crash
into
pieces
and collide
never to unify
again
abcd
abcd
memory's fading
of a time
we weren't classified.
abcd
which one is
the one
I hate the most
abcd
which is the one
that gets replaced
the d by a
or d by d?
abcd
which is the one
with no more as
bs
cs
and/or
the ds
abcd
which is the one
scanning the sunset
for the d if they're a
and the b if they're c
nameless .07
love
bright simple
shining star
of streetlight
filled and fulfilled
hole in heart
and mind
with utter complexities
of itself
and the
fulfilling
so that
no
self-recognition
and
singing to streetlights
a normality
when in fact
you were
in love
-11/8/06-
This is NOT a Monkey Poem
it's not alright
dance
monkey
dance
it's not alright
be prim
monkey
be prim
it's not alright
lay down
monkey
lay down
it's not alright
bruise
monkey
bruise
it's not alright
choke
monkey
choke
it's not alright
die
monkey
die
it's not
-11/7/06-
dance
monkey
dance
it's not alright
be prim
monkey
be prim
it's not alright
lay down
monkey
lay down
it's not alright
bruise
monkey
bruise
it's not alright
choke
monkey
choke
it's not alright
die
monkey
die
it's not
-11/7/06-
nameless .06
not just immigrants
suburban white
deluded
section thereof
filled with
eviction notices
and carboard boxes
single income house
that's not a home
and the wine
oh the wine's poison
feasted upon
by those who believe
just because they were
maligned
walked this path before
snorted that line before
had this breakdown before
and still
it can't be visualized
by those who lack
the knowledge
that it is all a game
and that which ails you now
will not do so in the future
than why am i in pain
at the news
that we're out again
at the news
that we can't make ends meat
at the news
that once again
it's been confirmed
this house is not a home
any semblence of one
for me and them
left a long time ago
in its place
a crappy old shack
whose main objective
is to let us down
and who will complete it
many times over
before death strangles
the life out of
us
-10/23/06-
nameless .05
path of darkness
path of light
the v
of self destruction
some walk darkness
some walk light
to lightdarkness all aspire
leaned left
pulled out right
living left's legacy
destruction's
creation
sit still
smile
be pretty
pretty fucking vacant
but not too happy
sad
smart
slut
virgin
the scales not tipped
perfect
oh if you could read
my
understand
but just
another insect
no pretty
no white
no happy
leaned left
and pulled out right
he pulled out,
right
alright
just the living
legacy
of life's
dark
destruction
nameless .04
I am incredibly exhausted, as I have been for days of sleep deprivation. But I am going to attempt to write this somewhat articulately.
Today was labor day. Throughout my whole life this day never had any significance to me whatsoever other than the fact that it was a day off school (if school had even started) and work for my dad. My whole life, the day that school started determined the slipping away of summer, whenever that may have been. It was transitional and fleeting, and not set in stone.
But this year, I am not going to school. So therefore, for me and millions of other Americans, summer officially ended today. And it doesn't really make me feel old or mature, nor does it make me feel immature. But it does make me feel like I've lost something. Something that doesn't necessarily have to do with the fact that I am not in school. Or that I have deviated from the most trodded path, even if this is the result of it.
What it is exactly, I am not sure. I don't feel like analyzing it to death. All I know is that this is a new era. And I'm not even in a different place, but there's just something about it that feels different. I look at it existentially. and I do not expect it to save me. Eras can not do that.
But I must admit, I am kind of excited.
-9/5/05-
Today was labor day. Throughout my whole life this day never had any significance to me whatsoever other than the fact that it was a day off school (if school had even started) and work for my dad. My whole life, the day that school started determined the slipping away of summer, whenever that may have been. It was transitional and fleeting, and not set in stone.
But this year, I am not going to school. So therefore, for me and millions of other Americans, summer officially ended today. And it doesn't really make me feel old or mature, nor does it make me feel immature. But it does make me feel like I've lost something. Something that doesn't necessarily have to do with the fact that I am not in school. Or that I have deviated from the most trodded path, even if this is the result of it.
What it is exactly, I am not sure. I don't feel like analyzing it to death. All I know is that this is a new era. And I'm not even in a different place, but there's just something about it that feels different. I look at it existentially. and I do not expect it to save me. Eras can not do that.
But I must admit, I am kind of excited.
-9/5/05-
nameless .03
Twisted lines
Those lines we twist
and turn into
our boundaries
cross
and Hell
breaks loose
like the twisted line
your strings
doth turn into
pulled by them
and you
twisting
pulling
until
crash into
what once thought
was you
erupt
then turn
into
what gets
the better
every time
damn twisted line
not lax
not straight
that makes
me turn into
Hell broken loosenameless .02
corner turning
confiscated your heart
health dimished
and family torn into the shred
deeper inside
hiding from the tearer
hiding from the bearer
won't be torn into
like you
no
walked in your footsteps
never really happy
bolting from the scene
so as not to scream
and then again
and again the shredder
and again
the heartache
and again
the vacant room
after womb
many miles walked to
away from you
my bargain
your suffering
as the shredder
and you
split
into
survival
I am walking through the woods, a large sword strapped to my back. Behind a thicket,, the beast, and my enemy, emerges. He is large, half man and half wolf. When his blazing, yellow eyes meet mine, they automatically burn with a red fire of hatred, whose blaze of malevolence can only be matched by the blaze in mine. I remove my sword from its case. He gets out his archaic mase. I hurl myself toward him, wielding the sword and screaming the ancient battle cry of my people. He begins swinging the mase, and I can hear the wailing of its sharp spikes piercing through the air, the wailing of impending death. As I take a wide swing of my sword toward him I hit the mase, and metal on metal collides with a resounding clash. We stop for a moment, to stare into each others hate-filled eyes, fire begetting fire, hate begetting hate. Then we move, detaching our instruments of death. He swings the mase around again, this time low, so that I have to do a backflip to avoid it. I hurl my sword at him again, this time he blocks me his shield. His mase comes down so fast that I duck and it still scrapes the top of my head. I cry out in pain. He counters this cry with a deep and gutteral malicious laugh. I touch the scrape on my head and feel blood. This feeds my fire like kinling. I move toward a tree, and the mase that is meant for me deeply gashes a tree. I am almost certain that I can feel it screaming out in pain amongst the other oaks, and for a moment I feel regret, for having to do this, for us all having to do this. But then this wave is replaced by another one as the mase swings toward me again, the will to survive. I run a few yards away, to a spiny tree, and as I begin jumping up the branches, my back is toward him, and I can hear death's sound, in the form of a mase, but I know that I am not going to die today. It only takes a moment for me to turn around, block the mase with my sword, which would have instantly ripped into my large intestine. My enemy has a look of bewilderment in his eyes when he heards the metals clang, and if there's one thing I have learn, it is that bewilderment makes you vulnerable. So I seize the moment, I let the mase drop for only a second as I catch its metal chain with my sword and begin wrapping it around. It makes an odd sound, one that I have not heard since. My enemy is holding strong and fast, trying to retain his grip on his only significant weapon, but for however strong and fast he is, I am that much stronger and faster. Soon he lets go completely, but not before getting out another mase, smaller, but still deadly. And I say to myself, I am not going to die today, as I swing my feet around the tree branch and impale him so hard with his own mase, and even harder with the blade of my sword. Just before his eyes roll into that vacuous space of eternity, I see them, at the same level as my eyes. And they are not burning with fire of hatred, but rather, they are aglow, with the light of the times that have come and gone, with the light of knowing that he died trying to save his own life. He was not angry or vengeful . In truth, he would have done the same to me. He knew this. The only differerence was my time line went on further, and his had reached the end.
lessof
I sit and wait
For a home
Purgatorial antiparadise
No glass-half-full shit
Feeling in my wrists
Where you can really feel things
Where your strength does lie
Now now
Mine has diminished
And all you want is to suffocate
Because the pain is less than
That which you have to
Endure
Greener grass
You think you'll find
1000 miles away
But youre paralyzed
And there's no ride
So all you do
Is wait
You sit and wait
And break
And break
You clean up their pieces
too
And you want so bad
to fade
But you realized
It's not just you
And you dream and dream
For a beautiful aesthethe
Of architectural design
A piece of land
White picket fence
American in kind
But then you wake
The dream it fades
Hope fading with it too
Yet all do
Is sit and wait
For a home
for them
And you
For a home
Purgatorial antiparadise
No glass-half-full shit
Feeling in my wrists
Where you can really feel things
Where your strength does lie
Now now
Mine has diminished
And all you want is to suffocate
Because the pain is less than
That which you have to
Endure
Greener grass
You think you'll find
1000 miles away
But youre paralyzed
And there's no ride
So all you do
Is wait
You sit and wait
And break
And break
You clean up their pieces
too
And you want so bad
to fade
But you realized
It's not just you
And you dream and dream
For a beautiful aesthethe
Of architectural design
A piece of land
White picket fence
American in kind
But then you wake
The dream it fades
Hope fading with it too
Yet all do
Is sit and wait
For a home
for them
And you
countenance
The memory of your face
that I can not remember.
waiting for a time
that we are not
running through the maze
the twists and turns
turn twistedly
eternally.
the memory of your face
that I can not remember
the last time that you wept
through circuts, waves and wires.
the memory of her face
when it was not so scarred
and her smiles
were not plastic
and her feeling
was not pain.
the memory of your faces
when we were all together
and when we did laugh happy
oh what time has erased.
the memory of your face
is all that she has left and
there is nothing more be
cause all else of you
she has
erased
-12/21/05-
that I can not remember.
waiting for a time
that we are not
running through the maze
the twists and turns
turn twistedly
eternally.
the memory of your face
that I can not remember
the last time that you wept
through circuts, waves and wires.
the memory of her face
when it was not so scarred
and her smiles
were not plastic
and her feeling
was not pain.
the memory of your faces
when we were all together
and when we did laugh happy
oh what time has erased.
the memory of your face
is all that she has left and
there is nothing more be
cause all else of you
she has
erased
-12/21/05-
idoubtit
I am thinking about school violence. And not necessarily about what compels misanthropic, alienated students to create a columbine-like situation, but more about what leads them to do so. I am talking about the way American adolescent children treat each other. Some may benefit fruituously from the institution of public high school. It is after all, one of the first places where children network and, aside from the home, arguably the place where they are socialized most. But high school is not all fun and games. Many children suffer horribly from school violence. They are taunted and teased relentlessly because they are not a well-oiled cog in the machine of the system. These children may have diagnosises of learning disabilities, social anxiety, mental illness, all three of which can cause them to have low self esteem. How can the system label them deviant and then punish them for it? I mean some of the most intellectual and creative people in the world's history have been labeled as social deviants and they are still glorified. But these children suffer relentlessly from a system that it is just not possible for them to be part of through no fault of their own.
So children tear each other down. they throw each other into the ground and scar each other for life. the pretty, popular ones asserting their "social surperiority" over the ones that just can't reach their level. This social darwinism of high school politics has created a hate-filled environment in which our children suffer every day. And I am not just talking about those who are considered socially weak, but even the fairest of the fair when it comes to social politics of high school. It is proven that in South Africa, all citizens have been affected by the apartheid, both the oppressed, the black population, and the oppressors, the white population. The same is true for high school. Those on the highest rung of the social ladder may not think that teasing some girl for being "geeky" and "badly dressed" has something to do with why they feel down on themselves most of the time, but it does. By trying to create a darwinistic, capitialist model for the institution of high school, what we really have created is a culture of hate for our children to grow up and suffer in.
I am not saying that an event like Columbine is justified, but how do we create a culture of hate and then complain about the hatred that surrounds us? What the institution of American high school should do is show children that, though they are different, and may be afflicted in different ways, they should all learn to respect each other. I am not saying that this would stop people from treating each other badly in general, but when a child is systematically attacked in an environment that claims to be safe and nuturing, this is a terrorist action. We complain about the terrorist actions of 9/11, as well as those that happen in countries overseas, but what most Americans don't understand is that there is terrorism right under our nose, and it is effecting that who we care about over all others, our children. It must be combatted.
Now most children of high school age will argue that bullying is not a systematic problem. This can be attributed to the fact that our children, like most of American society, hold on to their ideals above most other things. They would love to believe that there's no bullying, and calling that weird girl a dork sometimes doesn't count. In truth, this is not reality. What we all say and do effects one another, and for a popular child, teasing another child may just be asserting their strength and power, and thus, their place in the world, but for the child on the recieving end, their place is being shown to them as the place of an untouchable in a caste system.
Now, just like a crackhead parent that abuses and neglects their child and the child goes to jail, if a child is abused and terrorized at school, how can you blame them for engaging in deviant and destructive behavior. Now the influence that a parent has on a child and the influence that a child has on a child are very different, yes, but both are extremely important in a child's life. And if they are abused or neglected severly in either facet, the child will be more likely to develop self-destructive, angry or agressive tendencies, that may lead to crime, drug use, and other forms of social deviance.
Hopefully there won't be another Columbine, but if there is, then maybe people will not ask God how on earth something like this could happen. Maybe they will actually learn something and look inside themselves and society for the answer.
But I doubt it.
So children tear each other down. they throw each other into the ground and scar each other for life. the pretty, popular ones asserting their "social surperiority" over the ones that just can't reach their level. This social darwinism of high school politics has created a hate-filled environment in which our children suffer every day. And I am not just talking about those who are considered socially weak, but even the fairest of the fair when it comes to social politics of high school. It is proven that in South Africa, all citizens have been affected by the apartheid, both the oppressed, the black population, and the oppressors, the white population. The same is true for high school. Those on the highest rung of the social ladder may not think that teasing some girl for being "geeky" and "badly dressed" has something to do with why they feel down on themselves most of the time, but it does. By trying to create a darwinistic, capitialist model for the institution of high school, what we really have created is a culture of hate for our children to grow up and suffer in.
I am not saying that an event like Columbine is justified, but how do we create a culture of hate and then complain about the hatred that surrounds us? What the institution of American high school should do is show children that, though they are different, and may be afflicted in different ways, they should all learn to respect each other. I am not saying that this would stop people from treating each other badly in general, but when a child is systematically attacked in an environment that claims to be safe and nuturing, this is a terrorist action. We complain about the terrorist actions of 9/11, as well as those that happen in countries overseas, but what most Americans don't understand is that there is terrorism right under our nose, and it is effecting that who we care about over all others, our children. It must be combatted.
Now most children of high school age will argue that bullying is not a systematic problem. This can be attributed to the fact that our children, like most of American society, hold on to their ideals above most other things. They would love to believe that there's no bullying, and calling that weird girl a dork sometimes doesn't count. In truth, this is not reality. What we all say and do effects one another, and for a popular child, teasing another child may just be asserting their strength and power, and thus, their place in the world, but for the child on the recieving end, their place is being shown to them as the place of an untouchable in a caste system.
Now, just like a crackhead parent that abuses and neglects their child and the child goes to jail, if a child is abused and terrorized at school, how can you blame them for engaging in deviant and destructive behavior. Now the influence that a parent has on a child and the influence that a child has on a child are very different, yes, but both are extremely important in a child's life. And if they are abused or neglected severly in either facet, the child will be more likely to develop self-destructive, angry or agressive tendencies, that may lead to crime, drug use, and other forms of social deviance.
Hopefully there won't be another Columbine, but if there is, then maybe people will not ask God how on earth something like this could happen. Maybe they will actually learn something and look inside themselves and society for the answer.
But I doubt it.
nameless .01
I saw the world
In red and white
When the sun
Did rise
I saw the world
In pink and yellow
Throughout the cold
Daylight
But when the sun
Did set I saw
The world through
Mine own eyes
And I helped you see it too
But through your own
Eyelight
Perspective
It can save us when
When we are not strong
When days are long
And sums are short
And no songs do we sing
But in the times
Of blindness
We retire
Our false eyes
And see the world
In splendor
When we look
Into
Our light
This is the light
Will save us
And from in
Does it come
Not from a God
Or President
But from our soul's
Own strength
So retire
In the mountain
And gaze upon
Your prize
All the world
In splendor
Bathed by
Your own light
-10/16/05-
In red and white
When the sun
Did rise
I saw the world
In pink and yellow
Throughout the cold
Daylight
But when the sun
Did set I saw
The world through
Mine own eyes
And I helped you see it too
But through your own
Eyelight
Perspective
It can save us when
When we are not strong
When days are long
And sums are short
And no songs do we sing
But in the times
Of blindness
We retire
Our false eyes
And see the world
In splendor
When we look
Into
Our light
This is the light
Will save us
And from in
Does it come
Not from a God
Or President
But from our soul's
Own strength
So retire
In the mountain
And gaze upon
Your prize
All the world
In splendor
Bathed by
Your own light
-10/16/05-
shatteredglass
After much time has passed
And many relationships dissolved
I have deduced
That it is all my fault
I have always wanted it
Wanted them to go
But that I was never prepared for it
Was a thing I did not know
The idea was nice
To be with others
Much more beautiful and strong
But when I thought
I could handle it
I was very wrong
I am not strong
I am quite weak
That has proven to be true
And everything
With all of this
I don't know what to do
I could sit here speaking this
Till all my days do pass
Still nothing
Would be made from it
Except my shattered glass
I've got to get away from here
I've got to run so free
I've got to get away from here
They're looking down on me
I've got to get away from here
Now all my scars do show
I've got to get away from here
To where I do not know
And many relationships dissolved
I have deduced
That it is all my fault
I have always wanted it
Wanted them to go
But that I was never prepared for it
Was a thing I did not know
The idea was nice
To be with others
Much more beautiful and strong
But when I thought
I could handle it
I was very wrong
I am not strong
I am quite weak
That has proven to be true
And everything
With all of this
I don't know what to do
I could sit here speaking this
Till all my days do pass
Still nothing
Would be made from it
Except my shattered glass
I've got to get away from here
I've got to run so free
I've got to get away from here
They're looking down on me
I've got to get away from here
Now all my scars do show
I've got to get away from here
To where I do not know
a Poke is just a Joke
He makes a strange, vulgar gesture. She feels uncomfortable but says nothing. Why does she allow him to treat her this way?
Men are strange. They give none of their attentions out for free. There is always expectation. And I ask, how can we really be feminists if we allow them to treat us this way? How can we say we want and deserve respect when we do not demand it as we should? And generally speaking, why do we crave male attention when it is so costly? Have we really come very far?
And they say it is a joke, that it is said in jest. And do you know what I say? I say that most truth is said in jest. The system hides it behind their mask of farce, but the system is not as opaque as it would like itself to be. In every truth but social truth, it is really an attempt to control us, as if they are the feudal lords of the world and we their serfs. And sadly enough, in some sick and self-destructive way, we want it.
No, we don't. We may want attention, but not that kind of attention. Not that perversity. Not to feel like that. Not to be taunted. Not to be fondled. Not to be raped.
But whatever we want, and no matter how many times we shout it in their ear, they will never relinquish their power, our power.
Because then the can not joke. They can not call us bitches or hos. They can not try and get us to suck their dicks, even when we show no interest. They can not put our little girls in pretty pink dresses and reprimand us when we curse and throw us in a wedding dress and down the aisle.
But wouldn't it be nice if they gave us what is rightfully ours.
The world.
-10/12/05-
Men are strange. They give none of their attentions out for free. There is always expectation. And I ask, how can we really be feminists if we allow them to treat us this way? How can we say we want and deserve respect when we do not demand it as we should? And generally speaking, why do we crave male attention when it is so costly? Have we really come very far?
And they say it is a joke, that it is said in jest. And do you know what I say? I say that most truth is said in jest. The system hides it behind their mask of farce, but the system is not as opaque as it would like itself to be. In every truth but social truth, it is really an attempt to control us, as if they are the feudal lords of the world and we their serfs. And sadly enough, in some sick and self-destructive way, we want it.
No, we don't. We may want attention, but not that kind of attention. Not that perversity. Not to feel like that. Not to be taunted. Not to be fondled. Not to be raped.
But whatever we want, and no matter how many times we shout it in their ear, they will never relinquish their power, our power.
Because then the can not joke. They can not call us bitches or hos. They can not try and get us to suck their dicks, even when we show no interest. They can not put our little girls in pretty pink dresses and reprimand us when we curse and throw us in a wedding dress and down the aisle.
But wouldn't it be nice if they gave us what is rightfully ours.
The world.
-10/12/05-
BUGS
PART I
I am in a place
Where butterflies flutter
And ants crawl
And I am fascinated
That this place
Is here at all
We've ruined most of it
The sacred territory
The animals share
This ground, This ground
I wonder how it
Is even around
Why am I afraid of a spider
A moth
And an insect I can not name
To me, they're all the same
Just another bug
So why should I be scared
Why should I care?
PART II
Because I can't control you
And I don't know where you'll go
Because when you surround me
All of my fears show
Because this isn't my territory
Here I don't reside
But I'll show you
Oh, I'll show you
I'll drown out your house
And make it mine
Artificialize it
Kill this tree
And every other
Oh, it's real to me
It's real to me
Subdivisions
Minimalls
The fruits of our labors
And then you will all be
On your microscopic knees
Pleading for life
But I-Can't-Hear-You!
PART III
As is the circle
So it goes
And you are gonna kill me
But not before
I wipe you out
Your natural habitat
Who's laughing now, bitch?
Who's laughing now?
I am,
human
Irradiated
by your sound
Not moving
When you come
Around
And when
Your tiny body dies
So small that I can't see
There will finally be no one
To scare the great big me
oh ha ha ha!
The sheer delight
As I gaze upon my prize
A world that is so free of you
No one would have surmised
A beauty,
An awesome sight,
One which I can't describe
And now it's time to sit back
Enjoying
A world so free of you
Oh wait, I can't
I'm dead
I've gone and killed myself
Such a pity tooo
It would have been so great
Oh well, I guess I'm dead
And with out you
They're taking over
So the whole world
Is going to share my fate
And it's all my fault
I'm sorry
Can you forgive me...
Well I know I never forgave you but...
What?
What??
WHAT???
{Hello?
Hello??
HELLO???}
I am in a place
Where butterflies flutter
And ants crawl
And I am fascinated
That this place
Is here at all
We've ruined most of it
The sacred territory
The animals share
This ground, This ground
I wonder how it
Is even around
Why am I afraid of a spider
A moth
And an insect I can not name
To me, they're all the same
Just another bug
So why should I be scared
Why should I care?
PART II
Because I can't control you
And I don't know where you'll go
Because when you surround me
All of my fears show
Because this isn't my territory
Here I don't reside
But I'll show you
Oh, I'll show you
I'll drown out your house
And make it mine
Artificialize it
Kill this tree
And every other
Oh, it's real to me
It's real to me
Subdivisions
Minimalls
The fruits of our labors
And then you will all be
On your microscopic knees
Pleading for life
But I-Can't-Hear-You!
PART III
As is the circle
So it goes
And you are gonna kill me
But not before
I wipe you out
Your natural habitat
Who's laughing now, bitch?
Who's laughing now?
I am,
human
Irradiated
by your sound
Not moving
When you come
Around
And when
Your tiny body dies
So small that I can't see
There will finally be no one
To scare the great big me
oh ha ha ha!
The sheer delight
As I gaze upon my prize
A world that is so free of you
No one would have surmised
A beauty,
An awesome sight,
One which I can't describe
And now it's time to sit back
Enjoying
A world so free of you
Oh wait, I can't
I'm dead
I've gone and killed myself
Such a pity tooo
It would have been so great
Oh well, I guess I'm dead
And with out you
They're taking over
So the whole world
Is going to share my fate
And it's all my fault
I'm sorry
Can you forgive me...
Well I know I never forgave you but...
What?
What??
WHAT???
{Hello?
Hello??
HELLO???}
this is NOT a Love Poem
In the twilight
We're reflected
Against the glass
Of our respected
Before
Fulll moonlight hits us
And our powers
Become strong
In the twilight
They're among us
And they're watching
And they're waiting
For one slip up
So they'lll strike us
And we'll sink
Into the ground
In the twilight
Hearts are beating
And we're running
Not to be seen
And we're ducking
Behind birch trees
So as not to get
Destroyed
In the twilight
They'll condemn us
If we do not
Get away from
Hearts are bleeding
Paths are meeting
So stick with me
To stay alive
But in the moonlight
All is well and
They are gone
Evaporated
And we're happy
And we're dancing
All along
The sandy shore
In the moonlight
The world eats us
In a good way
There's no badness
As we swing from
The vines up across
The belly
Of it all
In the moonlight
Things are gorgeous
We laugh happy
Nothing warns us
There's no reason
To be frightened
They are very far
Away
In the moonlight
I do love you
And there is no one
Above you
So take my hand
On this moonlit ride
As I kiss you
One more time
The world is still our own
As long as moonlight shines
And in the day light
When it's over
We will be no longer
We can't take
The night with us
But we would
If we could
But as long as moonlight shines
You are mine
We're reflected
Against the glass
Of our respected
Before
Fulll moonlight hits us
And our powers
Become strong
In the twilight
They're among us
And they're watching
And they're waiting
For one slip up
So they'lll strike us
And we'll sink
Into the ground
In the twilight
Hearts are beating
And we're running
Not to be seen
And we're ducking
Behind birch trees
So as not to get
Destroyed
In the twilight
They'll condemn us
If we do not
Get away from
Hearts are bleeding
Paths are meeting
So stick with me
To stay alive
But in the moonlight
All is well and
They are gone
Evaporated
And we're happy
And we're dancing
All along
The sandy shore
In the moonlight
The world eats us
In a good way
There's no badness
As we swing from
The vines up across
The belly
Of it all
In the moonlight
Things are gorgeous
We laugh happy
Nothing warns us
There's no reason
To be frightened
They are very far
Away
In the moonlight
I do love you
And there is no one
Above you
So take my hand
On this moonlit ride
As I kiss you
One more time
The world is still our own
As long as moonlight shines
And in the day light
When it's over
We will be no longer
We can't take
The night with us
But we would
If we could
But as long as moonlight shines
You are mine
the Perfect Moment
Thinking about that perfect moment. stopped at a red light in the left lane with my blinker on, waiting, waiting in a world where waiting has become sinonomous with satan's firey wrath. Waiting patiently under the overcast sky. not quite dusk, yet darkening. And within that moment of anticipation to go wherever I was going, the perfect moment occurred. I was listening to some good music. And a large tractor trailer drove past me, speeding, or so it felt, to wherever destination its driver was heading toward. It seems as if automobile drivers are depersonified, so easy it is for us to see the shiny glass and metal exterior of a car, but harder is it for us to see the person at the helm. Maybe he was just doing his job, to make a bit of money to live, and then ultimately, to die, leaving nothing for his family. Or maybe he was an estranged casualty of drug addiction and would soon die in relapse, penniless, high, and empty inside. Or maybe he was a man with an idea, an innovator of sorts, whose profitable concept would turn to profit, and in turn, he would reap the benefits.
I know not his story. The depersonification did not enable me to know this man or woman, the person that was speeding past me. I was just thinking of the machine, the steel and glass amalgam that made me stop and enjoy. Because it just seemed so perfect, so inscrutably designed and meticulously planned by some unhuman force, like the scence of some beautiful cinematic masterpiece. And I was content in believeing that there is some presecnece of unhuman perfection in a hopelessly human world.
I know not his story. The depersonification did not enable me to know this man or woman, the person that was speeding past me. I was just thinking of the machine, the steel and glass amalgam that made me stop and enjoy. Because it just seemed so perfect, so inscrutably designed and meticulously planned by some unhuman force, like the scence of some beautiful cinematic masterpiece. And I was content in believeing that there is some presecnece of unhuman perfection in a hopelessly human world.
the bow breaks
Life spinning violently
cutting spherically
The air piercing me
Your breath
Filling into my lungs
Suckerpunch sickdick
And all that is quick
And I can not penetrate it
As it has penetrated me
And I am not apathetic
Or incapable
But sometimes I just feel as if
The bow is breaking
And the stern will soon follow
The descend
Into the ice cold watery depths
A forever grave
For those that do not speak so shallow
Life taken in the forever
That springs regret
And what ifs
Only after it is
Eternally gone
But sometimes
It goes
Without
Tangible Descent
With a promise
That burns to flame
With a bow that breaks
In soul
And spirit
Religious imagery
Hung you up
A long time ago
Beauty that can not be bought
And only a tiny remnant
A physical
Before the metamorphasis
Of a line crossed
On a train track
And it is just as eternal
And tangible
As those who can see
Would tell you
And those who can not
Just smile and not
Facading the antiproblem
When there is nothing
That can be done
cutting spherically
The air piercing me
Your breath
Filling into my lungs
Suckerpunch sickdick
And all that is quick
And I can not penetrate it
As it has penetrated me
And I am not apathetic
Or incapable
But sometimes I just feel as if
The bow is breaking
And the stern will soon follow
The descend
Into the ice cold watery depths
A forever grave
For those that do not speak so shallow
Life taken in the forever
That springs regret
And what ifs
Only after it is
Eternally gone
But sometimes
It goes
Without
Tangible Descent
With a promise
That burns to flame
With a bow that breaks
In soul
And spirit
Religious imagery
Hung you up
A long time ago
Beauty that can not be bought
And only a tiny remnant
A physical
Before the metamorphasis
Of a line crossed
On a train track
And it is just as eternal
And tangible
As those who can see
Would tell you
And those who can not
Just smile and not
Facading the antiproblem
When there is nothing
That can be done
left standing
I do not ever write or think
When I think of you
I just speak
When I thought of her I thought
Yes, it's true
I was meant for
another world
pulling back eyelids
lusting
and bursting
ripping into you
all of the things
we shall never say
yet know
and think
but this is not
my ptolemnic lament
to you
I do not speak or think or write
Mrs. Dalloway
ending so Hollywood
a million girls at a time
all one in the same
a desecration
They will not desercrate me
I will make art
I will flow words
in your ear
And you will not desecrate me
Nor will you cause pain
In the valley of my heart
That became a ravine
A thousand years ago
When all was first maligned
Those tears I do not cry
Those kisses I do not kiss
I can not bear
To step into you
To fade into you
To do a dirty job
To be one of the maligned
Maligning
In a place so far away
where one knows of desecration
And they speak none in poetry
It is here
The bargain
For selling your soul to the liquid devil
Speak not these words
into the bitter snatches of the night
Compromise not
I will not compromise for them
Wear a white dress for them
Lay down for them
And all that is falling down
Will crumble
And I will be
Left Standing
When I think of you
I just speak
When I thought of her I thought
Yes, it's true
I was meant for
another world
pulling back eyelids
lusting
and bursting
ripping into you
all of the things
we shall never say
yet know
and think
but this is not
my ptolemnic lament
to you
I do not speak or think or write
Mrs. Dalloway
ending so Hollywood
a million girls at a time
all one in the same
a desecration
They will not desercrate me
I will make art
I will flow words
in your ear
And you will not desecrate me
Nor will you cause pain
In the valley of my heart
That became a ravine
A thousand years ago
When all was first maligned
Those tears I do not cry
Those kisses I do not kiss
I can not bear
To step into you
To fade into you
To do a dirty job
To be one of the maligned
Maligning
In a place so far away
where one knows of desecration
And they speak none in poetry
It is here
The bargain
For selling your soul to the liquid devil
Speak not these words
into the bitter snatches of the night
Compromise not
I will not compromise for them
Wear a white dress for them
Lay down for them
And all that is falling down
Will crumble
And I will be
Left Standing
loneliness
The loneliness
It always comes
Even in hours
Not so dark
Even in hours
Not so sad
It brings me deeper
In myself
To a place
Where I can’t stand
And all I do is think
of nothing worth thinking about
That’s after the deed
The dirty one
The one that fills me
With regret
The one that fills them
With resent
Which makes them fade away
And then the wheel
Kicks into spin
The loneliness
It spins around
Trading meaningful affection
For a hairpull
And a name said
And a long face
From a sad girl
The loneliness
That’s me
-10/26/05-
It always comes
Even in hours
Not so dark
Even in hours
Not so sad
It brings me deeper
In myself
To a place
Where I can’t stand
And all I do is think
of nothing worth thinking about
That’s after the deed
The dirty one
The one that fills me
With regret
The one that fills them
With resent
Which makes them fade away
And then the wheel
Kicks into spin
The loneliness
It spins around
Trading meaningful affection
For a hairpull
And a name said
And a long face
From a sad girl
The loneliness
That’s me
-10/26/05-
God, Hexia and the Cheesemonkey Master
There are 900,000,000 dimensions in our universe. Dimension 489,000,393 is called Hexia. In Hexia, there is a planet (whose name is not important). This planet is very much like planet earth, which exists in dimension 3, except for some obvious differences.
The clouds of this planet are purple against a green sky. The vegetation is red, while the rain is composed of lickable orange toads. The ocean of this Hexian planet, Valair, is milky white, yet as translucent as the sea on earth.
The most highly advanced civilization was a species of fish that resided in a series of beautiful kingdoms on the bottom of Valair. These fishkingdoms were comprised of different tribes. Fish from many different creeds, races and ethnicities comprised the tribes.
But there was no war amongst the tribes of the Valarian fish. In fact, there was rarely any homicide among them.
How did they accomplish this peace? Well, you see, the answer lies not in the fish's biology, but in their sociology. The Valarian fish did not have any concept of society, so thus no social prejudices against each other. Because there was no society, the fish rejected all morals, mores and taboos, except one: they valued life above all things.
The fish are the Jedi Knights of all 900,000,000 dimensions. They do not let emotion and impulse overcome them, even in times of great need. How do they do this? The fish can go to their mentors, which are plentiful due to the fact that the fish do not hesitate to discuss their troubles and listen to others'. Their greatest mentor was their God, Hexia.
Here's how the God thing works. Each of the 900,000,000 dimensions are ruled by a God. This God is an ultramegasuperbeings of the superiore Cheesemonkey Universe. The leader of the Cheesemonkey Universe is The Cheesemonkey Master (aka Norbert, {Norbie for short}).
In the Cheesemonkey Universe, the God job at God.Com is arguably the best profession. But with any great profession, it comes with a lot of time commitments because you have to, or at least supposed to, be attentive to the needs all of the beings in your dimension (and that doesn't mean popping them full of happy pills).
Time in the Cheesemonkey Universe is the same as time in all the rest of the dimensions (it just worked so well). The God job was a sixteen hour day commitment. The remaining eight hours are for the Gods have a break, which is when they sent everyone to sleep at the same time, (even though we all think that we're sleeping at different times due to time zone differences).
But out of all the 900,000,000 Gods, Hexia is definitely one of the best. She cares for all the beings on her dimension, including her Valarian fish, rewarding them plentifully while responding to their cries for help. She has had the job for five thousand years, a rookie among Gods. But in those five thousand years, she has shown more progress on the job than some of the oldest. The Cheesemonkey Master/Norbie is very proud of her.
One day, to reward her fish for being really amazing beings, Hexia decided to take them to the third dimension, specifically planet Earth, for a visit. Hexia thought that by comparing themselves to the people, the fish would realize that they were far better. She hoped that this would make them feel good about themselves, like a bulimic girl who just fit into a size zero.
The way to get into one dimension from another is to temporarily inhabit or possess a person living in that dimension, as Hexia and the fish possessed the bodies of 9089 x 3909039039900890890809090909090909 earth people. After a day as earthlings, the fish did realize how screwed up earth people were, but they did not get so excited that they forgot to vomit after their next meal.
Instead, the fish took a more proactive stance. They had a congressional meeting, which included Hexia and all the Kings/Queens of the Valarian tribes.
"Hello Hexia," they greeted her in unison upon her arrival.
"Hello ( insert names of 16 different Kings/Queens here)," she greeted. "What is the matter which you intend to address to me today?"
"Well," said Rendolph, King of the Kzyoluonj, "We've been thinking a lot about the people of earth–how desolate and depressing they are."
Hexia let out a small smile and then caught herself.
"Have you?" she asked.
"Yes," he said.
He looked over at another fish who was seated across the table.
"Shelou, would you like to go on?" Rendolph asked politely.
"Yes Rendolph, thank you," Shelou, Queen of Ogietien, said. "We have decided, Hexia, that we would love to help the people of earth."
She politely passed her speaking power to Eliek, King of Baladino.
"We can show them a better way to live that would enable them to improve their lives."
"Well," Hexia said, taken aback. "Thank you all for the splendid idea."
She wanted to kick herself in the teeth for ever bringing them down there.
"But God is the God of Earth," she went on, "and I would have to get Norbert's permission if we're to go on missions. We can not possess those who we are trying to help."
"Please Hexia, talk to Norbert" they pleaded. "How long has God been the god of earth anyway?"
Right then, Hexia had a vision of her and God, on earth, whacked on crack and having sex, anally.
Earth always did seem to bring out the crazy-waves in her.
"Oh" she said, broken from her trance. "I am not sure. But I will be sure to speak to Norbert about it. Thank you (insert name of 16 Kings/Queens here) for bringing this issue to my attention."
SSS
The Cheesemonkey Master house is connected to God.Com. It is a beautiful building that can best be described as the antithesis of the White House (without being black, because the ultramegasuperbeings are just THAT good). Hexia has been invited to it many times on her breaks, while some of even the oldest Gods have only seen it from the outside.
She knocked on The Cheesemonkey Master's office door.
"Who is it?" he barked, suspiciously.
"It's Hexia, Norbert" said Hexia confidently. "And how are you today?"
She felt the lock click and the door opened to reveal the ultramegasuperbeing, Norbie, who was balding.
"Fine, Hexia" he said with a smile. "And how are you?
She entered the superfly superfine room and sat on a chair that looked like a spoon.
"Great" Hexia said enthusiastically.
"How are your fish?" he asked.
"They're doing splendidly" she answered with a smile. "But actually, Norbert, as of late, they have brought an issue to my attention that I would like to address to you, if I may."
"Go ahead" said Norbie.
"Well you see, Nobert" Hexia began, "I recently brought my fish on an outing to earth to see the people, and it has made them quite troubled."
"Really?" Norbie said, in a tone of genuine concern, "Why?"
"Well the people on earth are suffering," said Hexia bluntly. "And they want to help them."
Norbie just kinda looked around and touched one of his many bald spots.
"I am asking for your permission for us to take missions transdimension" Hexia said.
Norbert started to look a little frustrated.
"We tried to help the people of earth sixty years ago," he said. "And all they got was acid!"
Right then, Hexia had a vision of herself on earth, possessing the body of the vivacious Vivian LaPerme, tripping on acid.
Damned Earth, she thought. But her second thought was her fish.
"Well isn't there something you can do?"
"Hexia, God is the God of Dimension 3," Norbie retorted, "therefore, he is the God of Earth."
"Are you saying that his power is absolute?" she said (no pun intended). "You're his boss for God sakes! The least you could do is drop in on him!"
When she said "god sakes" Norbie twitched three times as if he was spazzing out.
"Hexia, don't say that!" he said. "You know about my condition!"
"I'm sorry, Norbie" said Hexia, "but I needed to think of my fish above all. Help me, Norbie, so I can help them by helping the people of earth."
She had to think this over in her head to make sure that she had said it correctly.
Silence. Norbie was tapping his bald spot again. Her eyes narrowed.
"How long has God had the position anyway?"
After a quick temple massage, Norbie replied.
"Alright, alright" Norbert relented. "I'll propose the idea to God, but I'm not promising anything. He does have the power to refuse transdimensional help. It's in the employee handbook thanks to my good-for-nothing predecessor.".
His expression became hopeful.
"Maybe he'll at least give me back the acid,"
Right then Hexia had another flashback as Vivian LaPerme on earth. In this one, she had done a cocktail of heroin, coke, opium meth, shrooms and percocet that left Ms. LaPerme odd in the emergency room while she rushed to depossess the girl before she died.
GOD DAMNED EARTH!!! It's a good thing she was thinking of her fish first.
"Thanks, The Cheesemonkey Master" Hexia said as she did a ultramega superbeing prayer to the Cheesemonkey Master, who had a look on his face in moments such as these like, if he was human, he was either
A) getting his dick sucked
or
B) doing xtasy
SSS
The next day, Norbie traversed his lawn and went to God.Com. He knocked on God's office door, which was covered with pictures of naked women spread-eagle and pop-punk band stickers.
"Coming," God screamed, over thumping deathmetal.
The door opened to reveal a tattooed, aging superbeing ultramega...burnout.
"Hey Norbie!" God greeting him enthusiastically. "What's up dude?"
He tried to give Norbie a pound, but The Cheesemonkey Master failed miserably. He always did suck at pounds.
"Not much God," he answered. "May I come in?"
"Sure," said God.
The door opened to reveal a room that much resembled a boy's college dormitory–with posters of naked girls plastered to the walls and empty beer cans covering almost every horizontal surface.
Norbie stepped inside.
"Oww!!"
Norbie looked down at his superbeing ultramega foot, which had stepped on a naked blonde girl who had been passed out on the floor (probably drunkenly).
"Sorry!" he said.
The girl's eyes just shut again as she passed back out, snoring just to reconfirm.
God burst into laughter.
"Good one Norbie," he practically shouted, with a hard pat on the back, "stepping on Vivica–or was it Veronica?"
He scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders.
"So God," Norbert said, glancing disapprovingly at the room, "How are things in Dimension 3, specifically planet earth?"
"AWESOME!!!" God exclaimed. "There's madd parties all over the place, girls getting naked, hard drugs...YEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"
"What?" Norbert said, in shock. "Maybe I didn't hear you correctly. What did you say?"
"Norbie, you're not with it!" God scoffed. "It's all about the hookers and crack! You pick up a fine piece of pussy on the sly and you know what I be talkin bout'...umm-hmm."
Norbie went with God's ghetto theme.
"God!" he said. "What's wrong wit' 'chu?" "Encouraging the depravity of the earth peops to get yo jollies off!! Hexia and her fish was right!"
The last statement seemed to really have fired God up.
"Oh no no no" he said. "Hexia? That bitch? What has she been saying about me–other than the fact that I'm good in bed."
God slapped himself five as Norbie's eyes bugged out of his head.
"God! What are you talking about! For your information, Hexia and her fish visited earth a few weeks ago, and the Valarians were so upset that they want to go as missionaries to help your PEOPLE that you DEPRAVED&DEPRIVED!!"
"Oh okay!" said God sarcastically. "That bitch is finally getting back at me for not calling her! Well god damn I mean I was pretty freaking drunk when it happened!!"
"GOD! Listen to me!" Norbert was screaming now. "I don't know what you're talking about, but the truth is this! Your people are suffering! And instead of helping them, you only make things worse! And I'm going to have to do something about it!"
"Ooooo!!!" God mocked. "What's big, bad Norbie gonna do to God, huh?"
"I can fire your ass!" Norbie said in an I-mean-business-tone.
This made God's eyes and face harden in seriousness, and his tone deepen.
"You know what, fine" God said. "You can say all you want about the people of Earth. Call them fucked up–drug addicts and whores–say I did it. But you know what Norbie, the truth is–and this is something that you can't even deny–the truth is that, as fucked up as earth people may be, they love harder than any other species in all 900,000,000 dimensions."
Norbie looked him in the eye.
"Well," he said, "that may be true. But what's also true is that I'd rather have them love a little less than suffer as horribly as they do, with no help from you."
Silence.
"God, You're fired"
Norbie pointed in the direction of out the door.
God holds his head up and calmly walks out of the room, but not before saying "God damn2 bitch, I knew I should have called her."
SSS
In dimension 489,000,393 (aka Hexia),the mood in Valair was very pleasant. Hexia was walking the oceanic streets of the kingdom of Saleta, talking to the fish that she passed. Many of them had been asking questions about earth.
"Hexia," said Vini. "We are very excited about our missions to earth. When are they to begin?"
"We will first depart a few weeks," said Hexia. "I am excited about it too, Vini. You fish are so amazing. I know that you can teach the earth people much."
"Thank you Hexia," said Vini, "Oh and congratulations on being named Co-God of Dimension 3. I am sure that the other Co-God will be pleased. You will do a wonderful job."
"Thank you very much Vini," she said with a respectful bow.
Vini's expression became empathetically sad.
"Hexia," she said. "I am worried about God. I hope that Norbert wasn't too hard on him."
"Oh Vini," said Hexia, patting the fish's fin comfortably, "Don't you worry about God. He's finally in the position he deserves."
She then had a pleasant vision of what Norbie had told her this morning. His team of investigators had found secret drugs that God had created on earth, which was not only against the stipulations of the God.Com employee handbook, but was also against The Cheesemonkey Universe superultramegabeings. And, unlike the fish of Valair, they had laws and sanctions.
As punishment, God was being fucked. This may sound like an oxymoron, but I can assure you it's not. By a five-hundred pound woman, three times a day, anally, without lube.
And since he was seeing her so frequently, the fact that he was incapable of using the phone was no biggie.
-8/25/05-
The clouds of this planet are purple against a green sky. The vegetation is red, while the rain is composed of lickable orange toads. The ocean of this Hexian planet, Valair, is milky white, yet as translucent as the sea on earth.
The most highly advanced civilization was a species of fish that resided in a series of beautiful kingdoms on the bottom of Valair. These fishkingdoms were comprised of different tribes. Fish from many different creeds, races and ethnicities comprised the tribes.
But there was no war amongst the tribes of the Valarian fish. In fact, there was rarely any homicide among them.
How did they accomplish this peace? Well, you see, the answer lies not in the fish's biology, but in their sociology. The Valarian fish did not have any concept of society, so thus no social prejudices against each other. Because there was no society, the fish rejected all morals, mores and taboos, except one: they valued life above all things.
The fish are the Jedi Knights of all 900,000,000 dimensions. They do not let emotion and impulse overcome them, even in times of great need. How do they do this? The fish can go to their mentors, which are plentiful due to the fact that the fish do not hesitate to discuss their troubles and listen to others'. Their greatest mentor was their God, Hexia.
Here's how the God thing works. Each of the 900,000,000 dimensions are ruled by a God. This God is an ultramegasuperbeings of the superiore Cheesemonkey Universe. The leader of the Cheesemonkey Universe is The Cheesemonkey Master (aka Norbert, {Norbie for short}).
In the Cheesemonkey Universe, the God job at God.Com is arguably the best profession. But with any great profession, it comes with a lot of time commitments because you have to, or at least supposed to, be attentive to the needs all of the beings in your dimension (and that doesn't mean popping them full of happy pills).
Time in the Cheesemonkey Universe is the same as time in all the rest of the dimensions (it just worked so well). The God job was a sixteen hour day commitment. The remaining eight hours are for the Gods have a break, which is when they sent everyone to sleep at the same time, (even though we all think that we're sleeping at different times due to time zone differences).
But out of all the 900,000,000 Gods, Hexia is definitely one of the best. She cares for all the beings on her dimension, including her Valarian fish, rewarding them plentifully while responding to their cries for help. She has had the job for five thousand years, a rookie among Gods. But in those five thousand years, she has shown more progress on the job than some of the oldest. The Cheesemonkey Master/Norbie is very proud of her.
One day, to reward her fish for being really amazing beings, Hexia decided to take them to the third dimension, specifically planet Earth, for a visit. Hexia thought that by comparing themselves to the people, the fish would realize that they were far better. She hoped that this would make them feel good about themselves, like a bulimic girl who just fit into a size zero.
The way to get into one dimension from another is to temporarily inhabit or possess a person living in that dimension, as Hexia and the fish possessed the bodies of 9089 x 3909039039900890890809090909090909 earth people. After a day as earthlings, the fish did realize how screwed up earth people were, but they did not get so excited that they forgot to vomit after their next meal.
Instead, the fish took a more proactive stance. They had a congressional meeting, which included Hexia and all the Kings/Queens of the Valarian tribes.
"Hello Hexia," they greeted her in unison upon her arrival.
"Hello ( insert names of 16 different Kings/Queens here)," she greeted. "What is the matter which you intend to address to me today?"
"Well," said Rendolph, King of the Kzyoluonj, "We've been thinking a lot about the people of earth–how desolate and depressing they are."
Hexia let out a small smile and then caught herself.
"Have you?" she asked.
"Yes," he said.
He looked over at another fish who was seated across the table.
"Shelou, would you like to go on?" Rendolph asked politely.
"Yes Rendolph, thank you," Shelou, Queen of Ogietien, said. "We have decided, Hexia, that we would love to help the people of earth."
She politely passed her speaking power to Eliek, King of Baladino.
"We can show them a better way to live that would enable them to improve their lives."
"Well," Hexia said, taken aback. "Thank you all for the splendid idea."
She wanted to kick herself in the teeth for ever bringing them down there.
"But God is the God of Earth," she went on, "and I would have to get Norbert's permission if we're to go on missions. We can not possess those who we are trying to help."
"Please Hexia, talk to Norbert" they pleaded. "How long has God been the god of earth anyway?"
Right then, Hexia had a vision of her and God, on earth, whacked on crack and having sex, anally.
Earth always did seem to bring out the crazy-waves in her.
"Oh" she said, broken from her trance. "I am not sure. But I will be sure to speak to Norbert about it. Thank you (insert name of 16 Kings/Queens here) for bringing this issue to my attention."
SSS
The Cheesemonkey Master house is connected to God.Com. It is a beautiful building that can best be described as the antithesis of the White House (without being black, because the ultramegasuperbeings are just THAT good). Hexia has been invited to it many times on her breaks, while some of even the oldest Gods have only seen it from the outside.
She knocked on The Cheesemonkey Master's office door.
"Who is it?" he barked, suspiciously.
"It's Hexia, Norbert" said Hexia confidently. "And how are you today?"
She felt the lock click and the door opened to reveal the ultramegasuperbeing, Norbie, who was balding.
"Fine, Hexia" he said with a smile. "And how are you?
She entered the superfly superfine room and sat on a chair that looked like a spoon.
"Great" Hexia said enthusiastically.
"How are your fish?" he asked.
"They're doing splendidly" she answered with a smile. "But actually, Norbert, as of late, they have brought an issue to my attention that I would like to address to you, if I may."
"Go ahead" said Norbie.
"Well you see, Nobert" Hexia began, "I recently brought my fish on an outing to earth to see the people, and it has made them quite troubled."
"Really?" Norbie said, in a tone of genuine concern, "Why?"
"Well the people on earth are suffering," said Hexia bluntly. "And they want to help them."
Norbie just kinda looked around and touched one of his many bald spots.
"I am asking for your permission for us to take missions transdimension" Hexia said.
Norbert started to look a little frustrated.
"We tried to help the people of earth sixty years ago," he said. "And all they got was acid!"
Right then, Hexia had a vision of herself on earth, possessing the body of the vivacious Vivian LaPerme, tripping on acid.
Damned Earth, she thought. But her second thought was her fish.
"Well isn't there something you can do?"
"Hexia, God is the God of Dimension 3," Norbie retorted, "therefore, he is the God of Earth."
"Are you saying that his power is absolute?" she said (no pun intended). "You're his boss for God sakes! The least you could do is drop in on him!"
When she said "god sakes" Norbie twitched three times as if he was spazzing out.
"Hexia, don't say that!" he said. "You know about my condition!"
"I'm sorry, Norbie" said Hexia, "but I needed to think of my fish above all. Help me, Norbie, so I can help them by helping the people of earth."
She had to think this over in her head to make sure that she had said it correctly.
Silence. Norbie was tapping his bald spot again. Her eyes narrowed.
"How long has God had the position anyway?"
After a quick temple massage, Norbie replied.
"Alright, alright" Norbert relented. "I'll propose the idea to God, but I'm not promising anything. He does have the power to refuse transdimensional help. It's in the employee handbook thanks to my good-for-nothing predecessor.".
His expression became hopeful.
"Maybe he'll at least give me back the acid,"
Right then Hexia had another flashback as Vivian LaPerme on earth. In this one, she had done a cocktail of heroin, coke, opium meth, shrooms and percocet that left Ms. LaPerme odd in the emergency room while she rushed to depossess the girl before she died.
GOD DAMNED EARTH!!! It's a good thing she was thinking of her fish first.
"Thanks, The Cheesemonkey Master" Hexia said as she did a ultramega superbeing prayer to the Cheesemonkey Master, who had a look on his face in moments such as these like, if he was human, he was either
A) getting his dick sucked
or
B) doing xtasy
SSS
The next day, Norbie traversed his lawn and went to God.Com. He knocked on God's office door, which was covered with pictures of naked women spread-eagle and pop-punk band stickers.
"Coming," God screamed, over thumping deathmetal.
The door opened to reveal a tattooed, aging superbeing ultramega...burnout.
"Hey Norbie!" God greeting him enthusiastically. "What's up dude?"
He tried to give Norbie a pound, but The Cheesemonkey Master failed miserably. He always did suck at pounds.
"Not much God," he answered. "May I come in?"
"Sure," said God.
The door opened to reveal a room that much resembled a boy's college dormitory–with posters of naked girls plastered to the walls and empty beer cans covering almost every horizontal surface.
Norbie stepped inside.
"Oww!!"
Norbie looked down at his superbeing ultramega foot, which had stepped on a naked blonde girl who had been passed out on the floor (probably drunkenly).
"Sorry!" he said.
The girl's eyes just shut again as she passed back out, snoring just to reconfirm.
God burst into laughter.
"Good one Norbie," he practically shouted, with a hard pat on the back, "stepping on Vivica–or was it Veronica?"
He scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders.
"So God," Norbert said, glancing disapprovingly at the room, "How are things in Dimension 3, specifically planet earth?"
"AWESOME!!!" God exclaimed. "There's madd parties all over the place, girls getting naked, hard drugs...YEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"
"What?" Norbert said, in shock. "Maybe I didn't hear you correctly. What did you say?"
"Norbie, you're not with it!" God scoffed. "It's all about the hookers and crack! You pick up a fine piece of pussy on the sly and you know what I be talkin bout'...umm-hmm."
Norbie went with God's ghetto theme.
"God!" he said. "What's wrong wit' 'chu?" "Encouraging the depravity of the earth peops to get yo jollies off!! Hexia and her fish was right!"
The last statement seemed to really have fired God up.
"Oh no no no" he said. "Hexia? That bitch? What has she been saying about me–other than the fact that I'm good in bed."
God slapped himself five as Norbie's eyes bugged out of his head.
"God! What are you talking about! For your information, Hexia and her fish visited earth a few weeks ago, and the Valarians were so upset that they want to go as missionaries to help your PEOPLE that you DEPRAVED&DEPRIVED!!"
"Oh okay!" said God sarcastically. "That bitch is finally getting back at me for not calling her! Well god damn I mean I was pretty freaking drunk when it happened!!"
"GOD! Listen to me!" Norbert was screaming now. "I don't know what you're talking about, but the truth is this! Your people are suffering! And instead of helping them, you only make things worse! And I'm going to have to do something about it!"
"Ooooo!!!" God mocked. "What's big, bad Norbie gonna do to God, huh?"
"I can fire your ass!" Norbie said in an I-mean-business-tone.
This made God's eyes and face harden in seriousness, and his tone deepen.
"You know what, fine" God said. "You can say all you want about the people of Earth. Call them fucked up–drug addicts and whores–say I did it. But you know what Norbie, the truth is–and this is something that you can't even deny–the truth is that, as fucked up as earth people may be, they love harder than any other species in all 900,000,000 dimensions."
Norbie looked him in the eye.
"Well," he said, "that may be true. But what's also true is that I'd rather have them love a little less than suffer as horribly as they do, with no help from you."
Silence.
"God, You're fired"
Norbie pointed in the direction of out the door.
God holds his head up and calmly walks out of the room, but not before saying "God damn2 bitch, I knew I should have called her."
SSS
In dimension 489,000,393 (aka Hexia),the mood in Valair was very pleasant. Hexia was walking the oceanic streets of the kingdom of Saleta, talking to the fish that she passed. Many of them had been asking questions about earth.
"Hexia," said Vini. "We are very excited about our missions to earth. When are they to begin?"
"We will first depart a few weeks," said Hexia. "I am excited about it too, Vini. You fish are so amazing. I know that you can teach the earth people much."
"Thank you Hexia," said Vini, "Oh and congratulations on being named Co-God of Dimension 3. I am sure that the other Co-God will be pleased. You will do a wonderful job."
"Thank you very much Vini," she said with a respectful bow.
Vini's expression became empathetically sad.
"Hexia," she said. "I am worried about God. I hope that Norbert wasn't too hard on him."
"Oh Vini," said Hexia, patting the fish's fin comfortably, "Don't you worry about God. He's finally in the position he deserves."
She then had a pleasant vision of what Norbie had told her this morning. His team of investigators had found secret drugs that God had created on earth, which was not only against the stipulations of the God.Com employee handbook, but was also against The Cheesemonkey Universe superultramegabeings. And, unlike the fish of Valair, they had laws and sanctions.
As punishment, God was being fucked. This may sound like an oxymoron, but I can assure you it's not. By a five-hundred pound woman, three times a day, anally, without lube.
And since he was seeing her so frequently, the fact that he was incapable of using the phone was no biggie.
-8/25/05-
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
