Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Drip Drip...

Camera clicks on. Curtains draw back revealing nothing. From unseen devices belches are mixed with recordings of murderers reading suicide letters. The sound of someone in the audience masturbating can be faintly heard above the groans. "At least someone is getting something out of this." Wheezes an uptight thousandaire wearing million dollar clothes. "We saw the same performance in San Francisco." coos a smartly dressed couple nearby. After 3 hours a horses dick can be seen inching its way across the stage. Its followed by a glistening trail of blood cum and piss all mixed together. The women gasp simultaneously. The men become aroused. Two of them ejaculate. From the tip of the penis comes a small flame which sets alight the red curtains which then proceed to burn for ten years. The audience by this point all have grandchildren. They grow up so fast these days. The grandchildren of the audience write scathing reviews of the performance in their school journals, which hail their honesty as "daring" and "patriotic." The play shuts down the night after the articles run, but first the curtains are replaced. Curtains draw to a close. Camera clicks off.

Monday, March 5, 2007

Sunny Disposition

Morning invades the darkness of sleep. Forces eyes awake. Reconstituting light into the shape of the surrounding room. We have an adversarial relationship. I block out the mornings when I can.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Me an' My Buddy Matt

Matt is my buddy. We are friends, me an’ Matt. He has funny hair and a beard, me an’ Matt. Sometimes Matt likes to stand on his head. I think it’s funny usually so I laugh and laugh. Matt likes laughing, me an’ Matt.

One time Matt’s Mom got real sick. So we made her a cake out of chocolate. She likes chocolate now. She also isn’t sick now.

Matt and I can climb up to the highest tress, and climb down to the lowest ground. That’s what we like to do, me an’ Matt. Sometimes, but only at night we play flashlight tag. I think it’s fun so I do it. Matt sometimes gets mad when he loses, but he never loses his cool because Matt is the coolest. I could be the coolest, but then Matt wouldn’t be. Yeah he’s the coolest.

Matt told me that if you farted on the couch and smelled that spot on the couch the couch would smell like fart. It does, me an’ Matt. Matt also told me that if you hang upside down for long enough your face turns red. Well mine didn’t because I can’t hang upside down anymore. Not now that the doctors say that I have to stay indoors, me an’ Matt. They say I have a bone disease, and that if I get hurt, it will hurt me. Matt says he’s going to be a doctor when he grows up so he can misdiagnose me so I won’t be sick and hurt.

Now mostly just Matt plays outside. Matt’s mom gave me his Nintendo, so I don’t care anyway. I was never a cyborg before Nintendo. Now I am, me an’ Matt.

Matt’s getting married next month and that will be that. He says he’s moving to Kenya “just because.” But I know it’s because he’s getting married. I guess some people do that these days, me an’ Matt. I died.

UPDATE: You can now hear the audio version of this story at Idiot Fiction.

Sunday, January 28, 2007

Manifesto of the Wilderness

We must recreate the wilderness. turn the cities back into dark uncharted forests. turn our streets into villages. our homes; unexplored caves harboring unimagined secrets. transform this world of absolution and commodity back into one of mystery and uncertainty; into adventure. find the shadows in the light. seek out what you cannot see. lose yourself where all that was once natural, and pure, and obscure, has been pushed aside for clarity, baseness, and vulgarity. re-structure the world. play mind games with yourself. fool yourself into believing in things that you do not believe. discover your body, what it is capable of, and how it works. explore someone else's. compare and contrast. feel everything. leave your body and your mind. observe both of them passively. feel no attachment to your thoughts or emotions. confound and confuse yourself. climb something absurd to climb. Hide from yourself. hide things from yourself where you'll never find them, and then stumble upon them years from now. run around in the dark. Walk around with your eyes closed in the daytime. strike up involving philosophical conversations with complete strangers; don't bother with formalities. ask questions. learn what you don't know and forget what you do know so that you can learn it again. be mysterious. be discreet. be overt. be a hypocrite. be a helpful criminal. Create things that don't work, or break things that do. misinterpret the obvious, and wield vaguery with precision.

Rather than the insult which it has traditionally been, the mantra for
this century should be "get lost!"

Tuesday, January 23, 2007


Cynicism is the murderer of good ideas.
Boredom is the murderer of time.
Efficiency is the murderer of creativity.
Morality is the murderer of thought.
Life is the murderer of life.

Monday, January 22, 2007

Sticks and stones.

Words blunted on your thick skull.
I think your nose is bleeding.
I thought you could take a joke.

Some Haikus

Escaped from the mob
If only for a short time.
I take what I get.

Gentle Waves Breaking.
And hour of life by the Bay.
Waves break before spirits.

Big dog little dog
Bring your owner here to me.
There's a useful trick.