Showing posts with label Jan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jan. Show all posts

Saturday, March 23, 2024

Fervent


None of us can think of a way to take out the K-5000 without Jan barleycorn. It will be a multigenerational battle. A tragically high percentage of us will die violently, go crazy, and/or end up in the cement mines, all from the alcohol alone. 

There will not be many deaths in battle, and unfortunately, not much disfigurement either. The MPS knows that anybody can get rich on a relic tour with an interesting configuration of missing mangled scarred (MMS) body parts. 

So we'll take our casualties how we find them, get them self-inflict them, and we'll use any fuel, toxic or not, that will keep the movement fervent. We'll seek out Pharmsupply that makes us fight beyond our natural inclination to submit and get by.




by Jan
from: Early Recruit
by Jan Jansdaad, Jr.

Wednesday, December 6, 2023

Extravasation of liability


Two archetypal nightmares, one evolving and the other transforming, cavort among the bone piles and charnel buckets and try new looks in a vast, thickly karsted blast cavern deep into Dubbaberah Chank lands. They have until a dung beetle can traverse the length of a date palm during which one star, and then the next, will provide enough light to prepare to solemnly silently and symbolically preside over a session of the Extravasation of Liability Council which must by code be held in the shadow of at least one K bitch. There is no common mirror large enough for Jan or Missy, who've taken to hanging out in the evening during hunger hours to distract one another from the hunger and to provide a mirror for the other by communication in authentic language, but through their minds only. 

Ok i am feeling that cute dress but the sunglasses ok i guess if yr going to wear sunglasses they may as well be in the shapes of hearts. 

See? And they stay on because even tho they are made with stadium poles and satellite dishes my hygienist at Friends' Hangar weaves them into my pyncofibers which lets me swivel'm up to perch on my ocular hood. 

That's nice for you. My issues these days are with sweat pants. The Sisters of Mthyuh spent months churning out this pair for example but it really binds above the hip bone and may inhibit normal peristalsis. Too bad an entire species of rubber tree went extinct just to result in an elastic waistband that doesn't meet the demands of give and take throughout the feeding cycle. The sisters've made me two other pairs, the product of more than 8,000 labor hours. One opened a pocket hole after the second sea wash, and the legs so long i almos tripped and took a dive into Fridgeporcherator Chank Canyon, and they's gators down there. 

That's what happens when you go out of your way to comply with outrageously cynical and degrading modesty directives having ceded your own sacred powers of life and death to those you could have eaten. 

It's worse than that. It's not just the Preservation Society. We are not compatible with the throngs of Jans and Flekes who have taken over this ecosystem. 

I think it's time we call a Moment of World Stoppage. 

Ha no one's done that since the grown childless strike during Same Moons. 

We must call a Moment of World Stoppage, the flekes must don their sacrificial hats, and we must demonstrate the power we've had all along: fashion-forward population flyovers. 

You mean over-population. 

Both: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!




Phyllis [Trans.]

Wednesday, November 15, 2023

intimate definitions


Jan and Peg are relaxing in shallow pools in the shapes of their relax-print in the glacier pools of ice that melts beneath their bodies as they lay on the glacier chatting and spritzing one another playfully with Friends' Hangar Hygiene Spray. The containers of spray are attached to the industrial tanker vehicles they'd had so much fun chasing up the highway and plucking up into their beak-mouths earlier that day if you are measuring on a time-based system. The tiny intense sun feels crackly on their pycnofibers and inside their ears where they are trying to hear each other speak with their minds only.
 

So ya that's what Jans is all about: huckster. It's hucksterism. They all be selling or wanting to sell they little products that's the business aspect like freedom to go ahead and try and hock craft flip what you want to and say whatever you want to about it with as few regulations as possible to make as many gold coins as you can and get the hell out. That spells liberty. And shore, religion is right up in there they say La-LaChama id-dah richest pan-gendered deity in na-known Crack. Ain nobody up in her vajraja books. They barely aware of her published statements.

I like your nails.

Oh thanks. 

...

You know what i think about nails... Ya there's about a gallon of exterior house paint on each one of these doll but they did come out good. Painted nails make three statements one you can have this. Your bright color nails say yes you can have this and how do you know because i am advertising it. I am decorating the hell out of my own body like it's on a shelf and ready to be sold girl. Two the nails they can also say you can't have this. And i want you to remember that and i want it to hurt a little. Look at this highly decorated and must be highly valuable body o mine. The answer is no. But you and i both know the question baby. Three they say look sure you can look and you should look who wouldn't. Just that for now, but for sure i want you to have a look and think for yourself on can you have can you not have this. 

I like number three the i can look. 

Oh you don't wanna have this?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Jan and Peg's shattering cry-laughing creates mini-avalanches at the edges of the ice shelf and a mini-roiling of the sea waters. As their laughter dies down, or as the reason for their laughter dying down, they both recall a moment of special intimacy in a hot geyser pool thousands of moons in the distance and wonder if the other is also remembering not being able to tell exactly if the memory is their own or a mind-only transmittal of language further to their conversation or? They look at one another sideways.

Say, do you re

Stop. Just stop there.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!




Phyllis [Trans.]

Tuesday, September 26, 2023

My associations prevent me from any movement at this time


My associations prevent me from any movement at this time

Haha! I'm just asking you to get yr ass off my pijama soze i can put it on

And I'm telling you i have associations with moving my ass that are painful

Oh i thought you meant like your associations like friends affiliate joiny-join groups...

Don't get me started on friends and groups they all have horrifying associations

Horrifying soze i can have my pijama

In that if i move if i move toward an object i start to receive visions and those visions are flashbacks of horrifying experiences with the object

So it's not the objects really but what they remind you of

Associations

Uh huh. Pijama?

Let me ask you are you ready to move toward a fresh horror

No i don't like that

Then why not find a different pijama because i can accept it where it is now

Then i should try an also accept it, is that it

One way to move is to move on in a conversation

Ima move your face in a minute

I understand that you love me so your threats are more like caresses

For someone who is scared shitless you seem too randy

Don't get me started on randy

Tell me this do you also have horrific associations with moving away from rather than toward objects

No receding objects diminish fractally in terms of threat

I am going to walk backwards while you toss me my pijama



Sonic remnant trace dump SX0007
Location: Bedroom, Recovery Lodge F, Lip of Mthyuh
Thought to be: Jan Jansdaad's former husband Jan and unknown female
by Phyllis [trans.]

Tuesday, September 12, 2023

They have to be reminded to praise Mthyuh


You were saying that you feel estranged from your own tribe because you believe that they are not able to fully decode comprehend some of the physical characteristics of your face that have developed over time

Age lines gone develop over time on anyone i'm talking about unexpected lines and even deeper structural changes that are not expressed in any of my blood relatives.

And you believe that these changes have been the result of your lived experience

Right, because my predestined trajectory was corrupted and has continued to become so in a dizzyingly fractalizing pattern. My experience has been so different than lidderly any of the Jans ever. 

Jan, i'd like you to reflect on something, and i want you to take your time to respond. Remember that you are in a circle of safety and respect here. 

What is it?

When you say that your experience has been so different, i wonder what examples come to mind, examples of experiences, perhaps, that set you so dramatically apart, as you describe it, from your family and peers in the Chank Lands? 

You are standing at the top of a gigantic scaffolding braced against the face of a high cliff. You have to hold on to a railing to avoid being brushed away by the wind from my nostrils. All that just so that you can look into my face as we speak. I can dart out my tongue and have you whole way in the back of my throat to savor all day if i wished. 

Is that what you would want to do? 

See what i mean? You wonder if i might ingest you. Doesn't make for fun family occasions. 

Well, give me an example. Because apart from what you've just pointed out, i don't feel estranged from you at all. And we just met. 

Ok, i was out on a festival day just soaring not bothering anyone except that i had to drop excrement and there was no way i was going all the way out to sea because I had to be by my Jans for lunch. So there was a nice anonymous patch of green grass aim fire done. 

K's are notorious for dropping dung on undesignated sites. And it was festival so you didn't do the laughing cry, i assume. 

Right. So i get to my Jans and Jan's like never mind we're not going. I'm like what do you mean not going where. She says ya we were gonna have a picnic but some mthyuhfarking K just dunged up the whole park. The tables are completely buried. Alls you can see is a flagpole sticking up there where the field office was. 

Ah, yes, that does sound like a very good example of what you're talking about. Delightful! 

It's one of my favorites. I love to tell that one. She was sobbing so hard but she held out the palm of her hand to signal that i should not come near to comfort her. 

She cried not for the spoiled picnic, but for the devastating toll your genetic path has taken upon your most elemental networks and interfaces. 

Devastating i don't know about that. 

Certainly profound. 

Ya, i'm surprised you would say devastating i had you tagged more as your difference has widened the diversity of the family or just one more aspect of someone they love etc. 

That's what i meant. Of course. And you? How do you see it?

Sobbing is surrender. They have to be reminded to praise Mthyuh. I am not the reality police-- i don't have to be. My presence alone jars one into submission: to me, and therefore to lavajraja.

Sunday, June 11, 2023

everywhere is far


The Jansdaads are speaking with their minds only.

It won't take long, but you'll be risking your life to get there. 

I know, Jan. 

I hope you'll feel Mthyuh. 

You know i will. She'll be right there on the horizon. If i die in the hooptie, her birds will eat me. 

You know there's no guarantee you'll find what you're looking for. 

I'm looking for you Jan.

I know, Jan. I want you to come and find me. 

If i can feel Mthyuh, maybe i can break the Crack, somehow i'll understand. I'll come back and go directly to the air conditioning unit for the temporary classrooms at the Community College of Cement. I'll duck under it, hit my head, that's how some got through. 

My mind is getting tired. 

Mine too, Jan.


Tuesday, May 16, 2023

On Jansdaad Day in Jansdaad

Jan Jansdaad, and your generations, Jan and his Jansdaads: Jan, Jan's sister Jan, and Jan Jansdaad (Jan), a non-binary, Jan-hating Jansdaad, cousin to Jan of the Dubbaberra Chank Jansdaads, Jan, namesake of Jan Jansdaad, dead; and the surviving Jansdaads: Jan, an engineer; his adopted brother Jan; and "Jinny," short for Jan Jansdaad; and every other Jan that we might ever see or feel or hear: Jan Jansdaad, of Jansdaad; his gorgeous wife Jan, proud mother of triplets: Jan, her sister Jan, and Jan, a non-binary, Jan-loving Jan; then you have, way out in Jansdaadbad, Jan Jansdaad and his dad, Jan, last known Jansdaads to have seen Jan's wife Jan or their tiny baby, Jan, namesake of Jan's dad, Jan Jansdaad, of the Chang K. Chang Chank Jansdaad clan, the Jansdaads; my favorite child of all the Jansdaads, Jan, has finally married, unfortunately, a man named Jan Jansdaad, outta Chimmichank, down past the Jansdaads with the chained up hogs, on Jansdaad Road across from the JanMart, named after Jan Jansdaad, son of Jan, his dad; My dad, by comparison, was the last of the Jan Jansdaads by his dad, Jan Jansdaad, but not his beloved mother, Jan. Getting back to Jan, his so choosing to be the end of all Jan Jansdaads initiated the Great Betrayal of the Jansdaads, not according to all the Jans, but at least to the immediate relations and their successive generations of Jans, the Jansdaads; and to you, all Jansdaads that clog the surrounding suburbs of the Greater Chank Phenomena, never forget that without the clever machinations by Jan Jansdaad, Jan's gamer wife, with the love and support of their rambunctious son and daughter Jan, and Jan, respectively, roads, businesses and all public buildings would be prohibited from being named for anyone related to the Jan Jansdaads of Al Jansdaad, including Jansdaad Center for Destruction, Jansdaad Copse, Jan's Pond, Thirsty Jansdaad, and Jansdaad Strong Park; we are more grateful still to have more than seventy schools called Jansdaad Elementary, et cetera; it would be different if there hadn't been so many Jansdaads, from disparate and remote lines of Jansdaads, Jans that have distinguished themselves from others, such as Jan Jansdaad, an ancient pope, or Jan—Jan Jansdaad, that is to say—who invented a classic chisel for the masses; there were also the potter Jansdaads: Jan, who got started spinning pots with only the mud from his back yard and some hippie paint; the conceptual ceramics of Jan’s wife Jan, also a potter, are in permanent installation at Jansdaad Gallery and Discovery Museum in Jansdaad; and no one will ever forget the name of Jan Jansdaad, the mother of Jan Jansdaad, her brother Jan Jansdaad, and "Jen," short for Jan Jansdaad, long dead, who are said to be still traveling throughout the Crack’s multi-hole system along with their 4-string toy guitars, tambourines, and spirited stylings of all of our favorite religion-themed rants and chants, a little top-heavy with selections featuring Jan Jansdaad; we find the Jansdaads tend to spread when there's plenty of shiny coins coming in: from the Highchank Jansdaads, and their rich cousins, the Jan Jansdaad of Jansdaad Jansdaads, who can trace their lineage to the Jansdaads that are rumored to have originated trans-Crack, the Jansdaads, and they say they can produce the provenance, a Jansdaad family tree inscribed on a cliff face just above where their bones would still be if not for the ministerings of the sacred birds; to the Vinery Jansdaads, former villains to their abstinent cousins, the Jansdaads, who were terrible snobs but excellent judges, who even put away the likes of Jan Jansdaad, their own nephew, neighbor Jan Jansdaad, his wife Jan, and Jan, Jan Jansdaad's dad's dad, for impersonating their domestic worker, Jan Jansdaad, just to get a wholesale rug shampooer; and to the mysteriously wealthy Jansdaads who live in isolated luxury beyond Jansdaad Plinth, surrounded by a high-security system provided, not coincidentally, by Jan Jansdaad and his company, Jansdaad's, with the latest in name-ID surveillance: Jan Jansdaad, for example, who lives across the street from the Jansdaad's and could run out of sugar, might stride right up to the Jansdaad’s gate one day to see if there’s a bell to ring, but instead, there'd be one of Jan Jansdaad's mirrors zeroing in and ready to use name recognition technology to first, scan for and then, report his name in a split second to the MPS peace authorities all the way up in Jansdaad, who are all Jansdaads from the same old Jansdaad clan founded by Jan Jansdaad, a nickname given to him as a term of endearment by his grandma, Jan Jansdaad, and followed suit by the whole family: Jan, his sister; Jan's dad's son Jan, and a pet named "Jane," a play on Jan Jansdaad. I bid you well, and in the words of Jan Jansdaad, "Today we are all Jan Jansdaad, for it is Jan Jansdaad day." Today, I do honor Jan Jansdaad, who just last night saved a local homosexual, Jan Jansdaad, from getting beat up by Jan Jansdaad, 23; friend Jan Jansdaad, 14, and a hag they called "Jay," a disrespectful yet playful way to say what you might have guessed would be Jan Jansdaad; there is also Jan, the dad who raised his five kids: Jan, a feisty one with his little brother Jan; Jan, who has sleeping sickness; their sister Janet (Jan), and would you believe it, they named the youngest child Jan, after her dad, Jan Jansdaad, after their mom Jan was snatched up and taken home by Ks during a lidderal log jam last spring up at Jansdaad Dam; I am shouting out as well to a man named Jan Jansdaad and his colleagues Jan Jansdaad, the new kid in town; that corner-office haver, Jan, who likes to hang out from time to time after work with Jan, and sometimes Jan, who works downstairs, and Jan Jansdaad—nobody knows what he does at Jansdaad's, but they suspect he might have been hired to watch, listen, write down, and turn in the names of any employee who might be up to who knows what, such as Jan Jansdaad, who accidentally shared his company hangar clave, which was pretty easy to guess that it was “JanJansdaad&,” with Jan Jansdaad, a known grifter, famous for the Jansdaad Scam of Jansdaad, and the names of countless innocents were released into the dark mirror for anyone to scoop up and use them to get their shiny coins or pretend to be them in fancy joints; I reach out to you, Jan Jansdaad, a carpenter; and you, Jan, also a Jansdaad, and your dad, Jan Jansdaad, and Jan Jansdaad, a Jansdaad dad, and his whole family: Jan Jansdaad, the Jansdaad dad's wife, Jan, who just goes by "Jan Jansdaad," also a carpenter; and their invalid aunt, Jan Jansdaad, who suffered crippling radiation burns in the Great Disaster of Jansdaad, at the hands of the now-defunct Jansdaad band of radical Jans, the Jansdaads.






by Jan

Monday, May 15, 2023

it's all about choices


I got an out call from a Jan who was on a house sitting hustle at a really nice Highchank palacio almost entirely obscured by the 3-hooptie garage door. In fact she had to crank it open just so i could get in, which put me a little sour since i had to walk there from the coils, which were very loose that day. 

She sits me in a parlor like where you'd blow the butler and says she was a little concerned because i looked like a thug in my picture. I look at her a little harsh at the same time she's saying not in person though, not at all. 

I was all ok, got a bathroom? I think the Jan felt obligated to wait for me in the salon de fellatio to demonstrate her mindful wakefulness towards diversity and inclusion. Or she was delirious on shiv or fasting. She let me wander from room to room demonstrating my low urgency towards getting to know her better. I did feel urgent, but it was more about the Jan's purse, which was gaping open on a plinth. 

Then there were five shiny coins in my pocket as i told her i could hear the horn calling all the way from Chukkachank, that i'd learned to distinguish it from the cry of a bird, so i'd better get going now. 

Bitch did not miss a beat. Oh, that's a shame, hope i didn't offend you, good to meet you tho, got everything? 

MPS got me? Not even a butch K's dick from the mouth of the coils. I say what, it's an emergency? They're like naw, we like coming up in this neighborhood. 

So you just ignoring the calls from fucked-up barrios? 

Naw, they got they own justice. 

Say i know a Jan who's DTF. What say you check her out to see she ok and let me catch my spring. 

The one MPS goes that's not us, craning out her neck. We take you instead and abuse you in our jail. 

Hahahahaha! I was cracking up and slapping my thigh until they jabbed me with a pharmsupply corrective and did exactly what they said they would. 

They have special restraints like the ones for Ks but tiny for hybrids. I was awake and screaming with my mind only. I was mostly angry not in pain. They figured out the location of my flap vents and dorsal expressors and drained as much funk as they could. 

I get back to the hangar acting normal. I curl up behind a bone mound breathing deeply. I can't blame anyone. My ancestry is recklessness, but they say it's all about choices. 




by Reptily-ily
Phyllis (trans.)

Friday, May 12, 2023

barsh hird at dawn


same bird but with hammering

and others, a real cuckoo shop

a day already showy and sinister

but it's the brain that won't stop


i am leftover history from yesterday

yet i can survive and observe

these same lamps rugs paintings

when i close my eyes i can see


blackness on a bright field in the

shape of the common mirror

grey shadows of rugs paintings 

lamps perhaps primeval forest

 

i am the only living exemplar of

my species in this time zone

and going off to bed could end

up initiating an extinction event

 

 


by Jan

Monday, April 24, 2023

Extinction Takeback Agreement

FRIENDS' HANGAR: Jan, now nearly full size, stands frontally abutted to a scaffolding built into the side of a high cliff. Her feet and tail are partially buried in the dunes of the Lowchank district. At eye level, she can see pine trees, and a bit above that there is only sandstone made deeply groovy by rains. The shadow of the horizon makes a line in the shape of the mountain across her forehead. Reptily stands on the scaffolding shaking out their cape and staring straight into Jan's nostrils, which occasionally emit a welcome and full-body warming blast. Reptily is using their tiny mouth hole to communicate, but Jan, for anatomical reasons, can only speak with her mind only.

REPTILY: Ya, see this flat part on the back of my head? I feel limited by it. 

JAN: Oh why?

REPTILY: I just feel like if there was a curve there I'd feel less constrained in my thinking processes. 

JAN: That's a K head Chama look at mine!

REPTILY: But you look practically full blood when yer here. I'm pretty much stuck in the fuzzy middle ground. 

JAN: Ya yor too big to get in the hygienist elevator. But you skittered up that scaffolding like a dung beetle!

REPTILY: Ya my vestments have been mistaken for an exoskeleton. It's just flocked rayon. 

JAN: ...

REPTILY: I wanted to meet here because it reminds me of home. I was born and raised at Friends' Hangar. 

JAN: Is that so?

REPTILY: Ya there was a time when I was small enough for the lift and even rather pretty by yor standards. They called me Missy. 

JAN: HAHA! I mean, you're still pretty. 

REPTILY: Fortunately I have some options like with the head tuft, which is retractable, see? 

JAN: Ooo. You know, we all have our unique struggles of difference don't we? 

REPTILY: There's no one like me. You can mostly pass on either side of the Crack. 

JAN: And it's also not our fault. 

REPTILY: On the one hand you can blame the MPS-Pharmsupply merger for our disfigurement, but we also only have them to thank for the Extinction Takeback Agreement and therefore our existences. 

JAN: Would you go that far? It was the merger that wiped out K's to begin with. 

REPTILY: We were enslaving their people. 

JAN: We were being our natural selves in the context of nature. I hate it when the losers get to write history.

BOTH: HAHAHAHAHAHA!




"ChamaJanMeetNGreet001" in
 Genetic Histories (n.d.)
Journal of the Institute for the Journal of Metacognitive Talk Therapy Apologists


Sunday, April 23, 2023

Cross-species consensus


Peg and Jan are splayed across a wide florid plain. A bubbling creek and just the elbow of a river run beneath them cooling their bellies and flap pits. They each look a little cross-eyed as thousands of local bees arrive in cloudy waves and get caught up on their giant forked tongues. Jan and Peg are slurping the piquant swarming treats off one another's faces. They can communicate with their minds only.

Guessing it's a result of struggling with your own random or self-diagnosed atypical gender impulses preferences fetishes, which you think you have to subdue, or that the domination over them itself is the fetish, and you think maybe everybody loves that

What the? 

I'm referencing your comment about one of the sisters who tends to resist gender classifications.

If you mean Reptily i only used the word ambiguous. 

Well you went maybe a little farther, like suggesting all Ks are genderless or shouldn't be allowed to even have a sexuality much less a gender status in society...

Well maybe if you say that the other way around, I mean society really? Ks are a species completely separate from the society and whole system of gender logic which really applies only outside the phenomena. 

Ok, as with so many issues, a fact we really need to confirm before we can even begin to come to a society-wide and cross-species consensus on what our rights are and what our rights mean. 

You always forget the responsibilities. 

Both: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!



Saturday, April 15, 2023

i'm glad you're only thinking of me and not my sorrow

 


MISSING

Jan Jansdaad

For Three Moons

Contact me on POD. 

Jan

Jan's husband Jan Jansdaad and his close personal friend Lord Lloyd Bentbridge are on an evening constitutional coursing and frequently switching back throughout the district. The streets, homes, walks that frame the men are all constructed of stone, or bricks made of compressed stones, cement made from stone dust, decomposed granite, or just dust. They stop when they see the papyrus. 

Lloyd: Looks like a Jan has gone missing. I wonder if it's 

Jan: That's my Jan. I'm the Jan. You haven't seen her. 

Lloyd: I apologize for not having made that connection. 

Jan: It's in the name. 

Lloyd: Indeed. 

Jan: I'm glad you're only thinking of me and not my sorrow. 

Lloyd: I want to get you back to my place. 

Jan: Yes Lord. 




Phyliss Nhin-Tuya
(embedded)

Monday, April 10, 2023

Bring Your Meat, Leave the Bones


Peg and Jan have been wallowing and tonguing in a deep meteorite crater full of fleke bones at the Bring Your Meat, Leave the Bones (BYMLB) hangar. Covering as much of their bodies as possible in the stench of death and rot would serve to protect them, they felt, from the onslaught of springtime.

I see you speaking into the common mirror. Look into my eyes now, and repeat your last statement to the sisters. 

What. What's this about? 

Into my eyes. Say it. 

Ok, finally we must condemn all societal rape including those which are perpetrated among the auspices of a private governing body. 

Right, well you looked bored at having to repeat it, but it did not lack any sign of human effusion. 

As observed in my other formal appearances? 

Bitch you even do it on MonstaLine.

...

You even do it when you use the common mirror as an actual mirror. 

You're coming for my personality and that's making me extremely uncomfortable. 

I know. I can see that on your normal face that you have when you're not speaking to the mirror. 

...

Both: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

It's sad to see what's happening and I'll tell you what's happening. It's not just you. Sisters speak into the common mirror and manifest they face they think they having all the time. 

Ok, that's why the vain bitches always look so good. 

That's correct. And if you think you look like a hollowed-out shiv skank...

I look like a...

No. But some do. And it's not just cosmetics. You know the best cosmetic.

Love. 

... You know that... may be better I was gonna say self-regard but yours has more dimensions.

No. You just taught me that. Just now.

Both: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!




Phyliss [trans.]

Sunday, March 26, 2023

losers


i knew The Crack was opening and i was selfish i wanted to reach out and grip your faces

already too many of you were caught in an updraft spiraling toward the stadium lights

i'd try and grab your sideburns and let go of her pigtails by doing so


they shouldn't allow friends and family over by the air-conditioning unit for the temporary buildings

not when lightning bolts can crease a sky and stars with no clouds

when the filter is down but not the beacon and the flekes at their hill fires start drumming


a thrill, fear, ice rises from the heart area and perhaps it's a meteor but also a gesture

then it seemed as though we were lost but it was only from each other

we looked at the faces around us and there was newness on both sides as well as being losers



 


by Jan
First transmission [frag.]

Thursday, March 16, 2023

Good luck with that


Peg and Jan are hunched over the remains of a fascio-religious scout troop their leaders their dogs and their shiny suede saddles. The thirty-odd children and adults had been on a pilgrimage to Ilyn's diving stone at the mouth of Mthyuh. Jan and Peg carefully pick out the bits of non-edible clothing and equipment and toss or spit them off the cliff. Same with the larger bones after sucking on them for several moments, even as they chat. They are able to form, understand, and communicate language with their minds only.

Jan: Watching you and the other full-bloods i can't help but notice moments when you emerge from your face. Normally your countenance to my nose is mask-like. But maybe i'll mention my husband or the restaurants on the other side of The Crack or ask a stupid question about the Greater Chanks Phenomena, and the mask becomes animated. I respond especially to the muscles around your eyes, which normally don't move at all unless theyr being prodded unexpectedly by a tree in a cloud or an airliner. 

Both: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Jan: Yes, i see you now!

Peg: Oh honey.

Jan: But i mean i say that because this observation also reminds me of how different i am despite my putative species how my face compared to yours is overly expressive clown-like hypo-manic. 

Peg: ...

Jan: I mean how does that affect the outcomes of everyday encounters how does it

Peg: Yr trying not to do it now aren't you. So i'm not sure i can provide any feedback yet. I'll have to catch you at a less self-conscious moment. 

Jan: Oh good luck with that. 

Both: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!




 

 

Trans. Phyliss

Monday, March 13, 2023

All we have is now


Jan and Peg are rolling back and forth in twin mountains of waste adjacent a sugar refinery in the low chanks. Wedding tent-size flakes and scales slough debride from their backs and tails and into the spent beet fibers.

Was it societal rape being done to him all those years?

How so. 

How society basically forced him to engage in sexual intercourse that he did not want. Is that worse than having to be celibate or choosing like Ilyn for spiritual purposes. 

Or prostitution. It wasn't against his will. 

No, more like with a gun to his head. You choose the lesser evil. 

The gun of a specter of persecution poverty shame ostracization. 

Yep. No one in recorded history has survived a shunning except a few that became their own scarlet letter. 

What? 

They survived but they were marked and stunted by their resulting public identity. He'd be at shiv and a Jan would say ya I'm a servant to Mthyuh or another Jan would say ya I'm a zoological hygienist. 

Then it would get to his turn and they'd interrupt with ya we know who you are. 

Right. He embraced being that guy. 

Can you please shove that backhoe out about 20 yards? I need to stretch. Just with your foot there. Thanks.

Flekes Jans priests nobody can get their Braino on it. We have the evidence all around us of this practice belief prejudice crime having been going on for like forever now. 

All we have is now Jan. 

So right you are darling.




Trans. by Phyliss Ng-Tiu (embedded)

Friday, February 24, 2023

Ayurvedic to my nose

Jan and Peg are stretched out on their bellies in the sand. Waves splash up against their bodies. Their elbows and wrists fit on the strand of beach between the water and a desolate highway. Their tails bob and flick at seagulls far out into the bay. 

PEG: Next we turn to the stars for answers. 

JAN: What do you see there? 

PEG: What i see is filtered through the seers accounting of what supposedly they see. 

JAN: You've looked at the oracle dispenser. It disappoints you. 

PEG: It certainly tries to do the opposite, which makes me all the more concerned. So, so encouraging uplifting today that i was sure she knew something and wasn't saying. 

JAN: Oh like ya buy that new pair of shoes treat yourself watch that movie eat a bonbon and what am i going to do with a shoe? 

PEG: Mmhmm. 

JAN: I am starting to believe that because we are closer to the heavens we are affected more profoundly by other large bodies moving in space. 

PEG: So buy two pairs of shoes? 

JAN: No. Just don't depend on the oracle dispenser for guidance that should be ours directly from the stars themselves. 

PEG: Do you mean

JAN: Ya we should have and make our own charts and by doing so reclaim our ancient agency to roam in self-governed patterns. 

PEG: Dictated by our biology not theirs. Lucky way more often. 

JAN: I think i can feel a planet gently tugging on my gizzard now in the magnetic resonance of the stones. 

PEG: Jan i told you purge and start over. Gargle with

JAN: Sea water ya. I use this instead. 

Jan reaches out and snags a passing milk tanker from the desolate highway and bites off the end of it before passing it to Peg.

PEG: Oh. Ayurvedic to my nose. 

BOTH: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!




Trans. by Phyllis (embedded)

Saturday, February 4, 2023

Welcome day frag.

I myself remember plopping down this end of The Crack. 

I was a kitten in a birth sac. 

What poked a hole was the beauty here. 


I found a functioning society

paradise and horror side by side

infinite replenishment


We learned in order to survive

to keep our privileges close by

or risk adventure in the boundarylands




Jan Jansdaad
Welcome Day counselor
Poetry Fair, Table 6
n.d.

Tuesday, January 17, 2023

OUTLIER


JAN: 

Well they've got to realize that from the very first moment of our employment, they were setting us up as opponents. Not quote coworkers. 

JAN'S BOSS JAN:

Yes, we had to draw straws. For seniority. We were starting the same day. 

JAN:

We had to strategize. There weren't just two straws. There was a lidded grass basket. 

JAN'S BOSS JAN:

The tips of seven straws were sticking out at just the same length. 

 JAN:

They were made of balsa wood. Guess they got them at the HR supply along with the psych kits. 

JAN'S BOSS JAN:

The HR lady's palm was holding the basket, gently turning and lifting so that it seemed to hover in space. 

JAN:

I went for the shiv on a plate after volca rule. Take the closest one. 

JAN'S BOSS JAN:

Lost opportunity. You had first shot. I would have taken

JAN:

I know, the one closest to me in case the HR lady had rigged it that way. 

JAN'S BOSS JAN:

That's not to say I didn't strategize. I mean

JAN:

Right, you're the boss now. Seems to fit you. 

JAN'S BOSS JAN: 

Do you think that bossships are for the bossy? 

JAN: 

Ya. 

JAN'S BOSS JAN:

What is ambition: putting to best use your strongest gifts for the good of all or a coincidentally necessary expression of paranoia and contempt for humanity? That the nirvanic system needs quote leaders to tell the workers what to do and use pain and pleasure to bend them to Mthyuh's willhead.  

JAN: 

Or that each of them as well are ambitious and recognize other ambitious servants and honor them and serve honorably to honor the nirvanas and the will of Mthyuh. Yes, all of that. 

JAN'S BOSS JAN: 

That's good because sometimes I feel like an outlier, you know?

Thursday, December 1, 2022

O Winter, Fruit of Betrayal

another half moon with a hard edge

there's just enough light to get around 

there's a precious circle in there but you

still need the lamp to find shit in leaves


soon full will feel like almost too much

a self-parody getting pretty old

we project our nature on that thing

it's deader than you or me but there it is


you are a tiny horse tonight whereas once

it was clickety-clickety clickety-clickety now

it's a click and a clack a click and a clack clack

you stop and stand to act as weather redactor



For my Lala,
by Jan