Because I'm trying to write up this first review for Cinema Sewer over on Crudloadofmovies.
To make up for it here's a novelty song from 1917:
And some Memphis Minnie for Justin:
Hopefully I'll be satisfied enough with this review to get it up tonight. Look for a new story here for sure tomorrow!
Peace,
Kurdt
Edit: It's up! Probably lots of typos but I'm too tired to want to go through it and fix them now. You guys tell me if I did a good job and if I should continue with this series!
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Gir's Story
One day Gir and his friends were sitting quietly by my TV...
when they got bored and ventured down to look at a stack of beer cans that had mysteriously sprung up over a long weekend.
They were immediately accosted by Dmitri Shostakovich who, as usual, was looking for a group of cool people to latch onto. "Vill you be my friends?" He asked sadly, "I have none of my own.."
"No!" They cried, "Go away Stinkovich! No one likes Chamber Music anymore!" And with that poor Dmitri went off to commit suicide.
"Goodbye cruel woooooorlllld! Ouch! I'm not dead, but dat hurt quite a bit! Oy Gevalt!"
Then the moose came down from by the TV as well and he brought waffles! "Can I be your friend?" He asked in his little moosey voice, "I only like the rockinist of rock music!"
"Of course!" They all shouted and proceeded to chow down with many hearty noms and rock out with much head banging.
The end!
when they got bored and ventured down to look at a stack of beer cans that had mysteriously sprung up over a long weekend.
They were immediately accosted by Dmitri Shostakovich who, as usual, was looking for a group of cool people to latch onto. "Vill you be my friends?" He asked sadly, "I have none of my own.."
"No!" They cried, "Go away Stinkovich! No one likes Chamber Music anymore!" And with that poor Dmitri went off to commit suicide.
"Goodbye cruel woooooorlllld! Ouch! I'm not dead, but dat hurt quite a bit! Oy Gevalt!"
Then the moose came down from by the TV as well and he brought waffles! "Can I be your friend?" He asked in his little moosey voice, "I only like the rockinist of rock music!"
"Of course!" They all shouted and proceeded to chow down with many hearty noms and rock out with much head banging.
The end!
Story a Day #9
"I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes,
I saw the sign,
Life is demanding without understanding,
I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes,
I saw the sign,
No one's gonna drag you up,
To get into the light where you belong..."
Ace of Base - The Sign
"So...uh...what do you want to do today?"
"Well, I got this Herschell Gordon Lewis Boxset in the mail today, and I was going to sit and watch all five movies. Got lots of beer and chips too! Wanna join me?"
"Hell no! Those movies are awful and that beer you bought tastes like ass."
"All beer tastes like ass..."
"Well at least the stuff I buy is drinkable! And you're wasting your life with this junk. Let's go to a bar and meet some people..."
"Eh, people are overrated."
"Fine then, but then don't come crawling to me when you're 80 and you look back on your life and realize you haven't done anything!" (Door slam).
"Jerk. Wow, I didn't know the human body contained that much blood!"
Narrator: "It was just another ordinary Saturday night. Another ordinary street in another ordinary town. Another ordinary man sat in front of the TV pissing away his ordinary life. Or was it ordinary? NO! No it wasn't you fools! I was deceiving you all by saying how "ordinary" everything was. But it's not! Your stupid minds are stupid, stupid! Stupid stupid stupid...where was I? Oh yes...
A few billion light years away from our small blew planet, in quadrant 5 of a part of the universe who's name our human tongues can't pronounce, someone was watching. Behold!"
Meekra sits in front of a computer screen in a very clean and shiny room. She is wearing a very skimpy two piece bikini because in most male oriented sci-fi all females must wear as little clothing as possible, even if it makes no sense. We can also clearly see her nipples poking out under the thin cloth. She is also green, because it's IN SPACE!!!
Meekra: "Fenshlom, come look at this."
Fenshlom is an orange type alien with a body to make all the male nerds drool. Of course if she really existed the weight of her boobs combined with the thinness of her midsection would snap her in half, but anyways, ON WITH THE STORY!
Fenshlom: "Yes my queen. Do you require another tongue bathing?"
Meekra: "No! Not right now anyways...look at this earthling!" (She points at the screen dramatically)
Fenshlom: "What about him? He looks like your average well fed sub-intelligent earthling from the area of the planet called "America-land."
Meekra: "Yes, but I desire him! I need him inside of me as soon as possible!"
Fenshslom: "But aren't you a les..." (Meekra puts her finger over Fenshlom's mouth)
Meekra: "Hush! You know you can't say that word out loud! It's only supposed to be implied!"
Fensholm: (Pushing Meekra's hand away) "Alright, but how are we to acquire this earth creature?"
Meekra: With...SUPER HYPER MEGA-IMPROBABLE SPEED!" (She jams her finger on a control panel button and the ship blasts off!)
Narrator: "Meanwhile back on earth..."
Hero of the story: "Whew, that movie was intense! I liked the part where he stuck her face in the pan of oil! Eh...um...who am I talking to?"
Narrator: "Suddenly out of nowhere..."
Hero: (Scared) "Who said that? Where are you hiding?"
Narrator: "Dude, you're not supposed to hear me. Just...just pretend I'm not here."
Hero: "Um, okay...."
Narrator: "Where was I? Oh yeah. Suddenly out of nowhere!"
(A space ship crashes through the front of the house completely destroying most of it.)
Hero: "Holy Shit! How am I going to pay for that?"
(A front panel of the ship opens and out step the space hotties.)
Meekra: "You earth being! I desire earth sex with you, now! Escort me now to your inner sleeping chambers and remove those rags you call clothes!"
Hero: "But...but you destroyed most of my house! How am I going to tell my roommate..."
Meekra: "SILENCE! I will have your roommate vaporized when he returns. Will that solve your problem?"
Hero: "Eh, I suppose so. Lets get it on!"
Fenshlom: "Wait wait wait wait! I think I know whats going on here! You, you at the computer!"
Me: "Me!"
Fenshlom: "Yeah you! Your writing sucks!"
Me: "Hey, I take offense at that!"
Fenshlom: "This is just a poorly written porno fantasy that you've inserted yourself in via this nameless character. I mean, who the Hell spends their Saturday nights watching crappy gore movies and drinking scuzzy beer besides you?"
Me: "Well...um...the coolest people ever, that's who!"
Fenshlom: "I want you to stop writing right now!"
Me: "Okay...but if I do that you'll cease to exist."
Fenshlom: "Well then write me into something else then, and give me a realistic size body for crying out loud. And I don't want to be orange anymore!"
Me: "Okay, I'll see what I can do..."
Narrator: "From then on Fenshlom was named...er..uh...Megan! And though she was an alien she was a Caucasian color with a robust body suitable for a warrior such as herself!"
Megan: "Thank you!"
Narrator: "She was also a nymphomaniac that would have sex with anything that moved!"
Megan: "Oh come on, you misogynistic pig!"
Narrator: "No. If I was a misogynist, I would say something like 'Megan was a woman and thus she spent most of her time in the kitchen, WHERE SHE BELONGED.'
Megan: "Hmmm, you do have a point.... "
Narrator: "Of course I do! Now go down to that planet and conquer it...by having sex with everything!"
Megan: "Aye Aye captain!"
Narrator: "And thus our story gets off to a well and great start as every great story should...with lots of hardcore porno style sex from lots of improbably positions!"
Megan: "This...this kind of hurts my back, can we switch positions now?"
Large well hung rock beast: "No baby, the camera needs to be able to see everything! How else will it compete in todays over saturated porno market?"
Megan: "Damn Internet. Ohh...ahh...ouch! I think I just slipped a disc!"
As you can probably tell, I hadn't thought this through much when I started writing. But I'm just so awesome that I was able to make something out of nothing, I am truly a god among writers! Take that Charles Dickens, you hack!
Tune in next time for more startling adventures in startling mystery with our realistically horny heroine as she goes from planet to planet fighting evil...with her orifices!
I saw the sign,
Life is demanding without understanding,
I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes,
I saw the sign,
No one's gonna drag you up,
To get into the light where you belong..."
Ace of Base - The Sign
"So...uh...what do you want to do today?"
"Well, I got this Herschell Gordon Lewis Boxset in the mail today, and I was going to sit and watch all five movies. Got lots of beer and chips too! Wanna join me?"
"Hell no! Those movies are awful and that beer you bought tastes like ass."
"All beer tastes like ass..."
"Well at least the stuff I buy is drinkable! And you're wasting your life with this junk. Let's go to a bar and meet some people..."
"Eh, people are overrated."
"Fine then, but then don't come crawling to me when you're 80 and you look back on your life and realize you haven't done anything!" (Door slam).
"Jerk. Wow, I didn't know the human body contained that much blood!"
Narrator: "It was just another ordinary Saturday night. Another ordinary street in another ordinary town. Another ordinary man sat in front of the TV pissing away his ordinary life. Or was it ordinary? NO! No it wasn't you fools! I was deceiving you all by saying how "ordinary" everything was. But it's not! Your stupid minds are stupid, stupid! Stupid stupid stupid...where was I? Oh yes...
A few billion light years away from our small blew planet, in quadrant 5 of a part of the universe who's name our human tongues can't pronounce, someone was watching. Behold!"
Meekra sits in front of a computer screen in a very clean and shiny room. She is wearing a very skimpy two piece bikini because in most male oriented sci-fi all females must wear as little clothing as possible, even if it makes no sense. We can also clearly see her nipples poking out under the thin cloth. She is also green, because it's IN SPACE!!!
Meekra: "Fenshlom, come look at this."
Fenshlom is an orange type alien with a body to make all the male nerds drool. Of course if she really existed the weight of her boobs combined with the thinness of her midsection would snap her in half, but anyways, ON WITH THE STORY!
Fenshlom: "Yes my queen. Do you require another tongue bathing?"
Meekra: "No! Not right now anyways...look at this earthling!" (She points at the screen dramatically)
Fenshlom: "What about him? He looks like your average well fed sub-intelligent earthling from the area of the planet called "America-land."
Meekra: "Yes, but I desire him! I need him inside of me as soon as possible!"
Fenshslom: "But aren't you a les..." (Meekra puts her finger over Fenshlom's mouth)
Meekra: "Hush! You know you can't say that word out loud! It's only supposed to be implied!"
Fensholm: (Pushing Meekra's hand away) "Alright, but how are we to acquire this earth creature?"
Meekra: With...SUPER HYPER MEGA-IMPROBABLE SPEED!" (She jams her finger on a control panel button and the ship blasts off!)
Narrator: "Meanwhile back on earth..."
Hero of the story: "Whew, that movie was intense! I liked the part where he stuck her face in the pan of oil! Eh...um...who am I talking to?"
Narrator: "Suddenly out of nowhere..."
Hero: (Scared) "Who said that? Where are you hiding?"
Narrator: "Dude, you're not supposed to hear me. Just...just pretend I'm not here."
Hero: "Um, okay...."
Narrator: "Where was I? Oh yeah. Suddenly out of nowhere!"
(A space ship crashes through the front of the house completely destroying most of it.)
Hero: "Holy Shit! How am I going to pay for that?"
(A front panel of the ship opens and out step the space hotties.)
Meekra: "You earth being! I desire earth sex with you, now! Escort me now to your inner sleeping chambers and remove those rags you call clothes!"
Hero: "But...but you destroyed most of my house! How am I going to tell my roommate..."
Meekra: "SILENCE! I will have your roommate vaporized when he returns. Will that solve your problem?"
Hero: "Eh, I suppose so. Lets get it on!"
Fenshlom: "Wait wait wait wait! I think I know whats going on here! You, you at the computer!"
Me: "Me!"
Fenshlom: "Yeah you! Your writing sucks!"
Me: "Hey, I take offense at that!"
Fenshlom: "This is just a poorly written porno fantasy that you've inserted yourself in via this nameless character. I mean, who the Hell spends their Saturday nights watching crappy gore movies and drinking scuzzy beer besides you?"
Me: "Well...um...the coolest people ever, that's who!"
Fenshlom: "I want you to stop writing right now!"
Me: "Okay...but if I do that you'll cease to exist."
Fenshlom: "Well then write me into something else then, and give me a realistic size body for crying out loud. And I don't want to be orange anymore!"
Me: "Okay, I'll see what I can do..."
Narrator: "From then on Fenshlom was named...er..uh...Megan! And though she was an alien she was a Caucasian color with a robust body suitable for a warrior such as herself!"
Megan: "Thank you!"
Narrator: "She was also a nymphomaniac that would have sex with anything that moved!"
Megan: "Oh come on, you misogynistic pig!"
Narrator: "No. If I was a misogynist, I would say something like 'Megan was a woman and thus she spent most of her time in the kitchen, WHERE SHE BELONGED.'
Megan: "Hmmm, you do have a point.... "
Narrator: "Of course I do! Now go down to that planet and conquer it...by having sex with everything!"
Megan: "Aye Aye captain!"
Narrator: "And thus our story gets off to a well and great start as every great story should...with lots of hardcore porno style sex from lots of improbably positions!"
Megan: "This...this kind of hurts my back, can we switch positions now?"
Large well hung rock beast: "No baby, the camera needs to be able to see everything! How else will it compete in todays over saturated porno market?"
Megan: "Damn Internet. Ohh...ahh...ouch! I think I just slipped a disc!"
As you can probably tell, I hadn't thought this through much when I started writing. But I'm just so awesome that I was able to make something out of nothing, I am truly a god among writers! Take that Charles Dickens, you hack!
Tune in next time for more startling adventures in startling mystery with our realistically horny heroine as she goes from planet to planet fighting evil...with her orifices!
Sunday, October 11, 2009
My Thoughts on Dylan
I was originally going to put this in the comments on the It's Alright Ma discussion, but it was running a bit long (I've been thinking about this all day) so I decided to put my rambling thoughts here.
What I think Dylan was trying to say (with It's Alright Ma) is that despite all their tricks and marketing gimmicks to get you to buy crap that you don't need, people are just people, even the President of the United States. Despite that, you still have to watch out for them. I think that's really powerful and that's why this is one of my favorite of Dylan's songs.
Alright. Now I'll give my thoughts on Dylan. (Keep in mind this is coming from someone removed from this time period, looking at it from the outside). Lately he's been letting his songs be used in ads for Victoria's Secret and a couple of car ads. People should be outraged by this, but you really didn't hear a lot about it. Why aren't people madder about this? When Dylan switched to electric guitar in the 60s people went nuts and wanted to tear him apart. Well that was the boomer generation and boy do I have a bone to pick with the Boomers.
The Baby Boomer generation is probably the most talked about and overrated in recent history. There's a whole mythos built up around hippies and Woodstock and the 60s in general. Let me put it right out there: It's all bullshit.
Dylan is a good example of the hypocrisy that the Boomer's represent. They held him up as their idol, their own genius god who represented everything they stood for. But that was wrong. Dylan never belonged to anybody and when he got tired of writing protest songs he stopped and switched to something else. Naturally they were pissed off, but they really shouldn't have been. They were supposed to be the open minded generation espousing that everything had value and that if we just embraced that ideal, the world could live peace. So of course they booed Dylan at concerts and called him Judas and he had to leave out the back door where ever he played. Already they failed to live up to their ideals and exposed themselves as hypocrites. Then came The Rolling Stones concert at Altamont Speedway which ended the peace and love era with violence and death and bad acid trips.
The hippies didn't solve anything. The Vietnam war ended in 19freakin75 after the country almost tore itself apart and the world continued on the down slide it's still in today. The hippies all got jobs in marketing and as executives still trying to preach their love everybody hurray for humanity bullshit (not that I think they believed it anymore) while selling the myth that their generation accomplished anything. But, to quote Eric Cartman, "All they did was smoke pot and smell bad."
I said Dylan does not belong to the Boomers or to anyone. Dylan just does what he wants even if it's not the most popular thing in the world. (Like switching to Christianity and back despite being Jewish.) So when he started letting his songs be used in ads, the boomers certainly didn't care. They discarded him a long time ago and only recently picked him back up again to propagate their bullshit "hooray for the 60s" myths.
So, is it hypocritical for Dylan to let his songs be used in ads? Well, if you say that then you assume that he's the same person he used to be back in the 60s. He's not. Despite that he's still Bob Dylan, and he's pretty much going to do what he wants, whether people like it or not and make some extra money off the boomers who now buy expensive cars and underwear.
So...feel free to rip me apart on this. I welcome it. I've got to get writing today's story...
What I think Dylan was trying to say (with It's Alright Ma) is that despite all their tricks and marketing gimmicks to get you to buy crap that you don't need, people are just people, even the President of the United States. Despite that, you still have to watch out for them. I think that's really powerful and that's why this is one of my favorite of Dylan's songs.
Alright. Now I'll give my thoughts on Dylan. (Keep in mind this is coming from someone removed from this time period, looking at it from the outside). Lately he's been letting his songs be used in ads for Victoria's Secret and a couple of car ads. People should be outraged by this, but you really didn't hear a lot about it. Why aren't people madder about this? When Dylan switched to electric guitar in the 60s people went nuts and wanted to tear him apart. Well that was the boomer generation and boy do I have a bone to pick with the Boomers.
The Baby Boomer generation is probably the most talked about and overrated in recent history. There's a whole mythos built up around hippies and Woodstock and the 60s in general. Let me put it right out there: It's all bullshit.
Dylan is a good example of the hypocrisy that the Boomer's represent. They held him up as their idol, their own genius god who represented everything they stood for. But that was wrong. Dylan never belonged to anybody and when he got tired of writing protest songs he stopped and switched to something else. Naturally they were pissed off, but they really shouldn't have been. They were supposed to be the open minded generation espousing that everything had value and that if we just embraced that ideal, the world could live peace. So of course they booed Dylan at concerts and called him Judas and he had to leave out the back door where ever he played. Already they failed to live up to their ideals and exposed themselves as hypocrites. Then came The Rolling Stones concert at Altamont Speedway which ended the peace and love era with violence and death and bad acid trips.
The hippies didn't solve anything. The Vietnam war ended in 19freakin75 after the country almost tore itself apart and the world continued on the down slide it's still in today. The hippies all got jobs in marketing and as executives still trying to preach their love everybody hurray for humanity bullshit (not that I think they believed it anymore) while selling the myth that their generation accomplished anything. But, to quote Eric Cartman, "All they did was smoke pot and smell bad."
I said Dylan does not belong to the Boomers or to anyone. Dylan just does what he wants even if it's not the most popular thing in the world. (Like switching to Christianity and back despite being Jewish.) So when he started letting his songs be used in ads, the boomers certainly didn't care. They discarded him a long time ago and only recently picked him back up again to propagate their bullshit "hooray for the 60s" myths.
So, is it hypocritical for Dylan to let his songs be used in ads? Well, if you say that then you assume that he's the same person he used to be back in the 60s. He's not. Despite that he's still Bob Dylan, and he's pretty much going to do what he wants, whether people like it or not and make some extra money off the boomers who now buy expensive cars and underwear.
So...feel free to rip me apart on this. I welcome it. I've got to get writing today's story...
Story a Day #8
"If we turned the table upside down and sailed around the bed,
Clamped knives between our teeth and tied bandannas round our heads,
With the wainscot our horizon and the ceiling as the sky,
You'd not expect that anyone would go and fucking die..."
The Pogues - Drunken Boat
I remember that I was late and that I was in a rush to get to wherever it was that I needed to be. I don't remember why I was late, or where I had to be, or why I was in such a rush to get there. When you've been dead for a long enough time, memories tend to get fuzzy. I suppose I should have written it down sooner but, well, I'll start at the beginning...
So all I really remember was that I was in a rush to get someplace. I had a lunch meeting with someone or another, I really can't recall who, and it had gone on long. I remember running out the door and being blinded by the sun, apparently the place had been pretty dark inside. I must have ran into the street before my eyes adjusted because the next thing I remembered was a blaring car horn and suddenly I was up in the air looking up at the blue sky. As I slowly turned downward, I could see the buildings reaching up high into air, skyscrapers that I had seen my whole life. With a sudden sadness I realized that this was probably the last time I was going to see them. If had had the time, I probably would have cried, but as it was they were already slipping away. The last thing I remember is the pavement coming up at me. I thought it was strange that I could see every pebble and bit of filth in-bedded in the tar with perfect clarity. The last thing I heard was my neck snapping as it hit the ground, and then everything went black...
When I opened my eyes all I could see was blinding white light. It was so bright I had to shut my eyes. I realized I was laying on something soft, but every time I tried to open my eyes to see what it was, I had to close them again. When they finally adjusted enough to where I could see, I rolled off of what I had been lying on and squinted my eyes and looked at it. It was a bed. A large four poster one to be exact, painted bright white like everything else, covered in perfectly white sheets. I looked down at myself. I was wearing the same suit I had died in. I even still had the briefcase I was carrying in my hand.
As I stood in the center of this otherwise featurless perfectly white room I tried to put together what exactly had happened, I remembered the car, and the sky, and the buildings, and realized that I was dead. I punched myself on the arm. I could still feel pain, how was that possible? Wasn't there a bible verse that said something about no more pain after death? Maybe this was Hell. It certainly seemed that way, since there was nothing in this room except a bed. Maybe I was supposed to go insane from boredom...
I was thinking about maybe trying to kill myself again to see where else I would end up as I walked along and looked at the walls, looking for a clue as to why I was in my current situation. I was about to give up and rip my throat open with the pen in my briefcase when I found a door. Well, it was a suggestion of a door, more of an outline really, with no knob or handle on it. I tried getting my fingers around the edges but to no avail. After a time I gave up again and sat down to open my briefcase. I sat with my back against the door and I pushed against it, something clicked and the door opened inward.
It was another small room but a normal one. It looked a bit like my father's study when I was a small child, before we moved away. The walls were covered with bookshelves all around except for under the window, which contained a small desk covered in paper. As I stepped into this room, the door behind me shut and became a wall that contained a small pendulum clock that ticked quietly away to itself. It was all very peaceful and I smiled. So this must be heaven, I thought. I walked over to the desk and picked up a piece of paper from the nearest stack and looked at it. There was writing on it, but the writing was a strange mess of wavy lines and dots that I couldn't make heads or tails of. The rest of the papers were the same, except some contained what appeared to be technical drawings or odd blueprints which I couldn't make sense of either. I gave up and looked out the window. All I could see was the sun shining over the tops of some kind of palm trees and a bit of blue sky. I deduced that this was the top floor of whatever building I was in. Turning to the books on the shelves I was disappointed to find that they were in the same weird writing as the papers on the desk. After pulling out several and trying to make sense of them with no luck I sighed and sat down on a chair and listened to the clock tick away. After staring at the thing for a good while, I began to realize that something wasn't quite right about it. Then I realized that even thought I had been sitting in the chair staring at it for quite some time, the hands hadn't moved at all. The pendulum was swinging, but it was stuck at five after twelve. I looked at my watch, which I suddenly remembered that I still had on. It had the same time. Suddenly I didn't like this room much and opened a door and walked out...
I was at the end of a hallway of some sort, which ran down to what I could see was a flight of stairs. There were doors on either side of the hall and I opened the one on my immediate left which was a bedroom. As I looked at the large bed in the middle all made up nicely, with even a corner turned down at the head, I felt a deep sadness wash over me. This bed wasn't made up for me. This house wasn't meant for me either. I am a trespasser, I thought, and pretty soon the owners are going to come home and find me here and I'm going be arrested. But somehow I knew that wasn't true. Maybe it was the unnatural silence or just a feeling at the back of my head that I knew to be true. I shut the door and started to walk down the rest of the hallway. I stopped before I got to the stairs and turned to face a door set opposite the staircase. I don't know why it intrigued me, but I walked over to it and tried the knob. Surprisingly, it was locked. I don't know how long I stood and stared at it but I became aware of a small noise that I realized was coming from behind the door. I put to my ear to it and heard a small creaking noise, like an old rocking chair. Curious, I put my eye to the keyhole. It was a babies room, all decked out in white lace. I could see a crib off to one side and an open window with lace curtains blowing in the breeze. Underneath the window was a small rocking chair, slowly rocking back and forth even though no one was sitting in it. This frightened me very much for reasons I still can't put together. I turned and ran down the stairs...
Before I hit the bottom I slipped on the last step and fell, my legs kicking out from under me. My briefcase flew into the air and knocked over a potted plant that had been sitting on a pedestal. It fell to the floor and smashed into pieces. I got up and ran over to it, trying in vain to put it back together. That it should be broken was the saddest thing in the world to me and I cried as I held the plant in my hands and let the soil run though my fingers. After a time I composed myself and looked around. To my right was an open door that looked like it lead to a music room. From where I was standing I could see a piano with a violin sitting on top. Right in front of me was a door that lead outside and behind me was a closed door that I had no desire to open. I wanted very badly to be out of the house and I quickly opened the door and ran outside...
I was in a jungle, thick trees grew on all sides and birds cried off in the distance. As soon as I stepped outside, I turned and looked back at the house, trying to see where the babies room might be. To my surprise, the house was gone and there was only a trail leading through the trees. With no other alternative, I headed down the path...
It seemed like an eternity of walking with nothing but trees on all sides of me, when I came out on a white sandy beach. Waves lapped against the shore and seagulls dove for fish. Again, it all seemed so peaceful, but wrong for some reason. It was like I had slipped into an old photograph, a glimpse of a past that didn't exist anymore. I Took off my shoes and socks and threw them away, and walked down the beach. Coming around a bend, I observed a dark spot off in the distance. As I got closer, I realized that it was a picnic table, with someone sitting on it. I walked up and sat down on the opposite side of the table and looked at the person, who seemed to be frozen with his head on his fist. It was a young man, about seventeen or eighteen with sandy brown hair and freckles. He was wearing overalls and a stupid looking straw hat. I coughed.
"Um...hullo?" I said out loud, surprised at the sound of my own voice.
The man responded by taking his head off of his fist, turning, and spitting a stream of tobacco onto the sand.
"What you want?" He said with very thick southern accent.
"Well...um..." I really didn't know how to respond.
"You want to know why you're here doncha?"
"Well, yeah."
"Well, you're not really here exactly. This is just something your mind made up because it couldn't handle the thought of being dead."
"I'm...I'm not following you."
"Right now you're lying in the street in a pool of blood. Your heart's just stopped pumping blood to your brain and now your brain is dying. In the few seconds before it shuts off completely, It's projecting this. Even though it seems like you've been here for a long time now, you really haven't been." He turned and spit again.
"So...whats going to happen?"
"Hell if I know. You might just stay here for all eternity or you might ldka slkfsf jlskl..." The boys face melted off and puddled on the table.
I looked down and my suit was covered in blood. When I looked up, the whole world was tearing apart into fragments. Large jagged chunks of reality ripped apart and fell into a dark black void, floating away forever. Pretty soon there was nothing left but the void and me floating around in nothingness. I found that I could write words in strange colors on the darkness, but I had to catch them before they floated away. I have a whole collection of them that I've stored in my briefcase which I found floating around. Someday if I can find another reality to latch onto, I'll put them onto paper, or whatever passes for paper there. For now, I'm just floating in darkness. It's cold here, so very very cold. I don't much like being dead...
This is partially based off a dream I had this morning. Freaky eh?
Clamped knives between our teeth and tied bandannas round our heads,
With the wainscot our horizon and the ceiling as the sky,
You'd not expect that anyone would go and fucking die..."
The Pogues - Drunken Boat
I remember that I was late and that I was in a rush to get to wherever it was that I needed to be. I don't remember why I was late, or where I had to be, or why I was in such a rush to get there. When you've been dead for a long enough time, memories tend to get fuzzy. I suppose I should have written it down sooner but, well, I'll start at the beginning...
So all I really remember was that I was in a rush to get someplace. I had a lunch meeting with someone or another, I really can't recall who, and it had gone on long. I remember running out the door and being blinded by the sun, apparently the place had been pretty dark inside. I must have ran into the street before my eyes adjusted because the next thing I remembered was a blaring car horn and suddenly I was up in the air looking up at the blue sky. As I slowly turned downward, I could see the buildings reaching up high into air, skyscrapers that I had seen my whole life. With a sudden sadness I realized that this was probably the last time I was going to see them. If had had the time, I probably would have cried, but as it was they were already slipping away. The last thing I remember is the pavement coming up at me. I thought it was strange that I could see every pebble and bit of filth in-bedded in the tar with perfect clarity. The last thing I heard was my neck snapping as it hit the ground, and then everything went black...
When I opened my eyes all I could see was blinding white light. It was so bright I had to shut my eyes. I realized I was laying on something soft, but every time I tried to open my eyes to see what it was, I had to close them again. When they finally adjusted enough to where I could see, I rolled off of what I had been lying on and squinted my eyes and looked at it. It was a bed. A large four poster one to be exact, painted bright white like everything else, covered in perfectly white sheets. I looked down at myself. I was wearing the same suit I had died in. I even still had the briefcase I was carrying in my hand.
As I stood in the center of this otherwise featurless perfectly white room I tried to put together what exactly had happened, I remembered the car, and the sky, and the buildings, and realized that I was dead. I punched myself on the arm. I could still feel pain, how was that possible? Wasn't there a bible verse that said something about no more pain after death? Maybe this was Hell. It certainly seemed that way, since there was nothing in this room except a bed. Maybe I was supposed to go insane from boredom...
I was thinking about maybe trying to kill myself again to see where else I would end up as I walked along and looked at the walls, looking for a clue as to why I was in my current situation. I was about to give up and rip my throat open with the pen in my briefcase when I found a door. Well, it was a suggestion of a door, more of an outline really, with no knob or handle on it. I tried getting my fingers around the edges but to no avail. After a time I gave up again and sat down to open my briefcase. I sat with my back against the door and I pushed against it, something clicked and the door opened inward.
It was another small room but a normal one. It looked a bit like my father's study when I was a small child, before we moved away. The walls were covered with bookshelves all around except for under the window, which contained a small desk covered in paper. As I stepped into this room, the door behind me shut and became a wall that contained a small pendulum clock that ticked quietly away to itself. It was all very peaceful and I smiled. So this must be heaven, I thought. I walked over to the desk and picked up a piece of paper from the nearest stack and looked at it. There was writing on it, but the writing was a strange mess of wavy lines and dots that I couldn't make heads or tails of. The rest of the papers were the same, except some contained what appeared to be technical drawings or odd blueprints which I couldn't make sense of either. I gave up and looked out the window. All I could see was the sun shining over the tops of some kind of palm trees and a bit of blue sky. I deduced that this was the top floor of whatever building I was in. Turning to the books on the shelves I was disappointed to find that they were in the same weird writing as the papers on the desk. After pulling out several and trying to make sense of them with no luck I sighed and sat down on a chair and listened to the clock tick away. After staring at the thing for a good while, I began to realize that something wasn't quite right about it. Then I realized that even thought I had been sitting in the chair staring at it for quite some time, the hands hadn't moved at all. The pendulum was swinging, but it was stuck at five after twelve. I looked at my watch, which I suddenly remembered that I still had on. It had the same time. Suddenly I didn't like this room much and opened a door and walked out...
I was at the end of a hallway of some sort, which ran down to what I could see was a flight of stairs. There were doors on either side of the hall and I opened the one on my immediate left which was a bedroom. As I looked at the large bed in the middle all made up nicely, with even a corner turned down at the head, I felt a deep sadness wash over me. This bed wasn't made up for me. This house wasn't meant for me either. I am a trespasser, I thought, and pretty soon the owners are going to come home and find me here and I'm going be arrested. But somehow I knew that wasn't true. Maybe it was the unnatural silence or just a feeling at the back of my head that I knew to be true. I shut the door and started to walk down the rest of the hallway. I stopped before I got to the stairs and turned to face a door set opposite the staircase. I don't know why it intrigued me, but I walked over to it and tried the knob. Surprisingly, it was locked. I don't know how long I stood and stared at it but I became aware of a small noise that I realized was coming from behind the door. I put to my ear to it and heard a small creaking noise, like an old rocking chair. Curious, I put my eye to the keyhole. It was a babies room, all decked out in white lace. I could see a crib off to one side and an open window with lace curtains blowing in the breeze. Underneath the window was a small rocking chair, slowly rocking back and forth even though no one was sitting in it. This frightened me very much for reasons I still can't put together. I turned and ran down the stairs...
Before I hit the bottom I slipped on the last step and fell, my legs kicking out from under me. My briefcase flew into the air and knocked over a potted plant that had been sitting on a pedestal. It fell to the floor and smashed into pieces. I got up and ran over to it, trying in vain to put it back together. That it should be broken was the saddest thing in the world to me and I cried as I held the plant in my hands and let the soil run though my fingers. After a time I composed myself and looked around. To my right was an open door that looked like it lead to a music room. From where I was standing I could see a piano with a violin sitting on top. Right in front of me was a door that lead outside and behind me was a closed door that I had no desire to open. I wanted very badly to be out of the house and I quickly opened the door and ran outside...
I was in a jungle, thick trees grew on all sides and birds cried off in the distance. As soon as I stepped outside, I turned and looked back at the house, trying to see where the babies room might be. To my surprise, the house was gone and there was only a trail leading through the trees. With no other alternative, I headed down the path...
It seemed like an eternity of walking with nothing but trees on all sides of me, when I came out on a white sandy beach. Waves lapped against the shore and seagulls dove for fish. Again, it all seemed so peaceful, but wrong for some reason. It was like I had slipped into an old photograph, a glimpse of a past that didn't exist anymore. I Took off my shoes and socks and threw them away, and walked down the beach. Coming around a bend, I observed a dark spot off in the distance. As I got closer, I realized that it was a picnic table, with someone sitting on it. I walked up and sat down on the opposite side of the table and looked at the person, who seemed to be frozen with his head on his fist. It was a young man, about seventeen or eighteen with sandy brown hair and freckles. He was wearing overalls and a stupid looking straw hat. I coughed.
"Um...hullo?" I said out loud, surprised at the sound of my own voice.
The man responded by taking his head off of his fist, turning, and spitting a stream of tobacco onto the sand.
"What you want?" He said with very thick southern accent.
"Well...um..." I really didn't know how to respond.
"You want to know why you're here doncha?"
"Well, yeah."
"Well, you're not really here exactly. This is just something your mind made up because it couldn't handle the thought of being dead."
"I'm...I'm not following you."
"Right now you're lying in the street in a pool of blood. Your heart's just stopped pumping blood to your brain and now your brain is dying. In the few seconds before it shuts off completely, It's projecting this. Even though it seems like you've been here for a long time now, you really haven't been." He turned and spit again.
"So...whats going to happen?"
"Hell if I know. You might just stay here for all eternity or you might ldka slkfsf jlskl..." The boys face melted off and puddled on the table.
I looked down and my suit was covered in blood. When I looked up, the whole world was tearing apart into fragments. Large jagged chunks of reality ripped apart and fell into a dark black void, floating away forever. Pretty soon there was nothing left but the void and me floating around in nothingness. I found that I could write words in strange colors on the darkness, but I had to catch them before they floated away. I have a whole collection of them that I've stored in my briefcase which I found floating around. Someday if I can find another reality to latch onto, I'll put them onto paper, or whatever passes for paper there. For now, I'm just floating in darkness. It's cold here, so very very cold. I don't much like being dead...
This is partially based off a dream I had this morning. Freaky eh?
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Break Time!
I have decreed Saturday a break day from this project. I need a day to lay around and play with ideas. (I also need a day to sit and watch movies and eat junk food.) Tomorrow is the lord's day so it's going to be a religious story. (Type of religion may vary, offensiveness level may also vary. Please proceed at your own risk.)
But...I'm going to give you all a homework assignment! It's very simple, listen to this song:
And answer the following questions:
1. Do you think Dylan just sat down and wrote whatever came into his head, or do you think the song is just set up to sound that way?
2. Recently Dylan has been letting his songs be used in commercials. Do you think that contrasts with the message of the song?
3. What do you think the message of the song is?
4. Give any other general thoughts or feelings that the song brings up. (If any)
Edit: If any of you want to suggest story ideas, that would be great! I take any and all suggestions, no matter how strange.
But...I'm going to give you all a homework assignment! It's very simple, listen to this song:
And answer the following questions:
1. Do you think Dylan just sat down and wrote whatever came into his head, or do you think the song is just set up to sound that way?
2. Recently Dylan has been letting his songs be used in commercials. Do you think that contrasts with the message of the song?
3. What do you think the message of the song is?
4. Give any other general thoughts or feelings that the song brings up. (If any)
Edit: If any of you want to suggest story ideas, that would be great! I take any and all suggestions, no matter how strange.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Whats that spuds? You want more of this stuff?
Devo-Beautiful World
This music video is brilliant. The song is brilliant too, but it only really works with the video. Best use of stock footage ever? I think so.
That title by the way is from a Devo live album I have called Devo at the Palace. Right before they play an encore Mark Mothersbaugh says it and it always make me laugh. I also love "We're standing up to prove we still can after 10 years in this business." and "I am so fucking Devo!" Which comes out of nowhere in the middle of their cover of Working in a Coal Mine.
This music video is brilliant. The song is brilliant too, but it only really works with the video. Best use of stock footage ever? I think so.
That title by the way is from a Devo live album I have called Devo at the Palace. Right before they play an encore Mark Mothersbaugh says it and it always make me laugh. I also love "We're standing up to prove we still can after 10 years in this business." and "I am so fucking Devo!" Which comes out of nowhere in the middle of their cover of Working in a Coal Mine.
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