Sunday, February 24, 2008

na, junge frau ;>)



Sylvia's next breakthrough: powdered sugar really gave citrus a run for its money without the total blanket of sweetening effect you got with corn syrup.

TROG

Peggy finally had to be hospitalized when she began seeing everyone as a weird creature. The slick, spongy facial covering with the gaping red-rimmed cavern and watery bluish or brown slits, the protruding blow holes. The crown of bristly tendrils, bone-filled appendages like ineffective wings. She questioned every being, object, behavior or event around her and could only see their strangeness. She herself was the most shocking: the brazen, raw persistence of her life form was inexplicable. The materials that had coalesced to form her flesh, and their variations, amazed and disgusted her.

For the first few days, her only comfort was knowing that she had lived inside her mother's body. She began an architectural project which would enclose residents with rib, spinal, and pelvic structures in forged metals across and deeply into a cliff's face.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Chang K. Chang

OK everyone. We're gonna have a drill on what happens if we for some reason lose access to the pollsticks. I know it's hard to imagine a scenario where we would both lose access to the pollsticks and be compelled to continue on with a class session because would there be power anyway and would people be too upset but here we are.

Instead of thumbing the red button, you are going to have to turn your head left, then right repeatedly until I've been able to visually record everyone's primitive answer.

Instead of knuckling the green button, just lift and then lower the head-- again, please don't stop until I have made what we'll call "eye contact" so that both you and I know that I have manually registered your primitive answer.

First question. Should they stop Shiv Sack Week just because we liked Chang K. Chang and she got sacrificed this WD. Instead of intensified gender expression, we can only think of Chang K. Chang and how she brightened our lives and how Mthyah already had many Hell Daughters to milk her. Yes or no. Respond now please.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

County Coyote Encounters Explode for Shivweek

Unusually high number of attacks during and around Shivweek is giving locals in the Olde Mthyah and Cliff Estates homelands the "shivers."

* Man bitten by coyote while sleeping on lawn (2:45 PM)

* Man bitten by coyote while sleeping on lawn (4 PM)

* Man was stalked, then attacked by two coyotes, and bitten on ankle (Early evening, daylight)

* Coyote attacked and killed pet dog in man’s presence; coyote would not leave (Morning)

* 54-year-old woman fought, using an axe handle, with a large coyote that had attacked small poodle in back yard. Received bite on leg, and despite her efforts, the coyote killed the poodle and jumped over fence carrying the carcass (4:30 PM)

* Man walking encountered 4 coyotes, which crouched, circling him, attempting to attack. Fought off with walking stick, hitting one square across the face (Morning)

* Coyote on golf course ran up to woman, jumped on her back, and bit her on right forearm (Daytime)

* Woman walking 2 large dogs accosted by 3 coyotes; fell backward and fended coyotes off.

* Coyote came into residence to attack small pet dogs.

If you see a coyote stalking your pet, yell and throw rocks at the coyote. Take your pet indoors.

Remember to report any signs of rabid animal activity or steam rising from open ventricles in the desert floor to Mthyuh Guardian Society, especially after a temblor.

http://www.laalmanac.com/environment/ev15c.htm

I Feel You Mthyuh

Ted has returned to the laboratory of Dr. Donna Thong, who has become his regular interlocutor.

"You know I stopped being afraid of wild dogs when I was in France. Aix en Provence. They would come after you circling, instinctively, not even looking at one another, only at you. Perhaps because it was not a conscious strategy, but rather an externalized brain operation of some deeply-tucked, pea-shaped descendant of the jellyfish that has forever been able to interface directly with the outer world without having to go through the conscience, the thus-organic and seamless nature of their movements had a lulling quality that seemed to hypnotize both hunter and prey, dragging them into an even wider and remoter scheme, neither with nor against their wills."

"...Ted, isn't it? Uh huh. Wasn't that a comma splice?"

"One night I was really scared when we took a walk on this country road? We were camping out on this guy's farmland? And these dogs started running toward us. They looked like big, black and white Dobermans."

"Oh," said Donna. "Did they start circling you? Did you throw a rock?"

"How did you know? That's what happened. That's all you have to do..."

"Is throw is rock, yes, I know-- that used to happen to me and my friends a lot when we'd cousin up all summer and hang out behind the bottling plant in Greensborough. It was green there."

"Yes, of course it was. And that is my point-- there were probably plenty of rocks. Yes. Well you see, when I was out near Olde Mthyuh this week after work just clearing my head? There were no rocks at all. Just very fine sand. These were coyotes; they're small, but there were more of their voices than I had ever imagined to hear from a canine species at one time, even in a recording. It was way more than if you go to a kennel, for example. It was a flurry of cries much closer to the squalling of the migratory bird nurseries in the very next section of the marsh."

"Mr. Azir, you are giving me goosebumps now! I think of my little nursry babies before they grew old."

"When I was back in the car I could still hardly dare to draw breath. Without rocks, I was completely without a plan or a defense should they attack. I was traumatized, and nothing even happened."

"It will, darlin." Dr. Thong's voice and smile created a curiously and chillingly reassuring tone of response.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Sunset is Black

coyotes: 100 or more?
In the designated ground,
Who is being hunted, just?

I said you must stand still
watching this rare desert view
man-made wetlands
with so many high reeds and
hundreds of shrill chicks bleating.

You can hear a dozen kinds
of birds and some amphibi-
ans, but mammal?
Apart from the hounds I've brought here,
Wait. Oh my God.

There are
hundreds may scores maybe
OMG coyotes, excited
numerous as birds
against me and my two

exactly
who is being hunted here
end of dusk
dogs stay closer because

only ten minutes from home
the sunset is black
and nature herself
has a hungry sound.

Monday, February 11, 2008

W.A.S.T.E.

Kug was busy trying to beat himself into a slumber chemically. He had full pharmashiv, so he was well stocked. What he really wanted was to just talk to someone, but he'd have to sign a Waiver and Acceptance of Social Toxicity Estimate to get the vouchers, and it just wasn't worth it. But when would they all be able to relax. There was always something coming at them. The funny stuff, then some spooked attention, and then the dereliction.

Three beautiful dogs lounged all around him. One was fluffy and soft, with a crazy look in her eyes and a very high pain threshold. Another was gingery, spotted, danced for chicken. Finally, Juniper was just naughty. Half of one eye was blue, the other a quicksand of sentiment. La La's toe had been taken by a gopher, yet she hadn't flinched. M'Lady's passion was birding, and they sometimes called her Dog Bird or Pickles.

He hid his watch in a drawer when he realized the ticking had been driving him mad. He stared at the glass of water serving its second night on his bedstone. Dust, including a hair, lolled on the surface tension. "My own story twists like a question mark on the skin of my tomorrow," murmured Ted. "I cannot rest while I want so badly to act, to pierce that membrane. I want to tell the story so that I do not end up in prison," he wrote in the themebook next to his water glass. There'd be plenty of time the next day, though, to tell the story. He'd have a cement mine to tell it to. All day long.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

daily bag [the Mp3]



daily bag

studdening

JUNK-A-LISHUS!

Is the changing of hats legal as evasion?

Emotional cosmetics is
what you would call
keeping a good
variety of
feelings in your daily bag.

If the charging party
cannot prove
which one you were wearing
and when, vindicate you.

For an insuring corpus
would be absent,
and when corpus is absent,
no fault is found, stud.

It is clear how the walls
could come crumbling down
and nothing could be done
because there wasn't even
a name for what you had.

Everyone just took
off their hats and bowed,
waited for you to
float away
like Lady of the Lake.

It's a method actor's
face exercise
that starts from within.
The focus is on
emotion.

The faces it creates
are not the exag-
erated masks of mime,
but rather a knot in a
jaw or a drooping eye.

It creates the shadows,
imprints of emotion
projected through the
lens of the
mind.

20. Time is a Liar


leper king

Peggy thought about how people from other places often seemed deformed. But then at other times she herself seemed more deformed. At times like now, she decided, it was her immediate society, which included her, that seemed deformed.

It was not only the rashes and funny growths. Everyone's reaction to the invasion or whatever it was had become way more disfiguring than the sum of the symptoms. Moms used to tell kids that if you frowned or looked cross-eyed too much, you would become stuck that way. Turns out faces actually do get stuck in the twisted palsies of fear, disbelief, and self-recrimination.

Emotional cosmetics is what you would call keeping a good variety of feelings in your daily bag. It's a method actor's face exercise that starts from within. The focus is on emotion. The faces it creates are not the exagerated masks of mime, but rather a knot in a jaw or a drooping eye. It creates the shadows, imprints of emotion projected through the lens of the mind.

She'd been assisting Dr. Donna Thong in her lab of late. There was a walk in, a local high school teacher. He'd asked to be put down.

"But why...? Ted, isn't it?"
"Because you are my doctor and that's what will cure me."
"Oh Teddie. Where did you come from? Don't you have a home tonight?"
"I'm no good for anyone. It's no good my being here. I want to take responsibilty for this."
"I can give you something to help calm you down. What's your pharmashiv?"
"I got ProLabique ProLab. 5k deductible."
Dr. Thong was opening his shirt, and some disco music was rising. His face became more and more distraught as he watched her undo the buttons. He was in no physical pain, but for what it hurt his eyes to see.
"Oh. Oh Teddie. Is that real?"
The disco music pounded hard and Ted A. Azir wept and soaked his wide cheeks, his ears, and the hard, blue-green scales growing beautifully across his gym-bought abs. The anomaly pulsed irridescently, armor like with his sobbing contractions.

Monday, February 4, 2008

B-an/ Kor-ible #1 [New Queen Version]

There is neither
Jew nor Geek,
slave for fee,
male nor she,
for inside
Christ's warm
ass, we are
one with Him.

Gayrelations 3:28
NQV

Crystal Rimprint

Rare rainclouds made even rarer moves now above. A donut cloud, but with a center a hundred miles wide, crowned the valley. It was grey, the center was brightest blue sky, and the wind howled. Shiv Sack Day-- but that was everywhere.

Ted and Mike say what the fuck and hold hands all the way to the model homes district. They let the gale half sail them past the BurmaShave-style signs on the long, barren connector road to the construction sites. 100% Financing. Community Parks. Zoned No Sex Offender. Optional Items Now Included. Planned Activities.

The models are garage-first, neo-classic rectangles, breadboxes full of soaring heights. All interior doors have been removed to give more airiness. They are little movie sets, interrupted lives of hypothetical citizens, full of books bought quaintly second hand, but deliberately placed. Below the coat rack at the front door: Supreme Court Proceedings. You are living the lifestyle of lawyerness. On the overstuffed couch in the kitchen wing: The Carbohydrate Addict's Cookbook. Glass decanters of raw macaroni line the counter tops.

In model #2, Asian mother and daughter prospective buyers stand chatting in the 200-sq.-ft. kitchen. Mother appears to be slipping some of the props into her shoulder bag. Wooden spoons. Every model also has a counter top cookie oven to create a cookie smell which is said to have psychological power over buyers. One thinks one must be on camera.

They've sacrificed back yard space for the community security parks. They want everyone out where everyone can keep an eye on everyone. Bathroom fans are running.

The back sliding glass door of model #3 has been smashed into thousands of safety glass chunks and replaced, but not cleaned up. The broken pieces are on the outside. One of the his/ her walk-in closet doors in model #1 has been forcefully ripped from its tracks. The rubber rollers had begun to burn against the metal and left streaks before being replaced. There is an iron fence disallowing exit directly to the street.

Passers through in these model homes, especially for Shiv Bowl, feel as if they are left to their own fantasies, with no sales personnel present to face scan you. They do that efficiently enough before and after. Guy, a sales VP and owner, scans Ted carefully for honesty before refusing to show the place. He needs to be home for Bowl and the Shiv Sack. It's only once a year, and he likes to participate in Payment of Blood.

Strolling over to the other models, Ted and Mike can tell the donut cloud has gone nowhere, and the wind is just the same. The model home promotional flags are getting their ultimate test and looking like faded historical salvage already. This is some kind of land hurricane but where the center is fast and big, and the edge is thin with a bright lining, a crystal rim print right above them.

donut cloud


Friday, January 25, 2008

It had been especially difficult for Peggy to quit smoking because she thought of herself as an artist, and most artists have a smell of their media about them. Spandex and rubber, propane, clay, absinthe. Even laptop writers sometimes smelled dusty and grimy, from books. Computer graphic artists, to the contrary, just smelled like their own bodies, tasted like their own mouths. Or sometimes new carpet or airplane food or baby food. Peggy felt exposed without a cover, or at least a veil, and took to burning incense with her Pro-Labique Nico-Chews.

The question wasn't being a mother or not; it was how responsible would she be, really. She thought those girls were great. But taking a step back, would they be better without her?

This was either a sick train of thought or a healthy train of thought, but it was a familiar train of thought.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Their Military Recruitment Hymns Lie

Their military recruitment hymns lie;
but they have a voice that's so soothing.
It would be obscene to dance to one of them,
so what accounts for the desire to soar and
fly?

Dog Med [the Mp3]

This post has been erased by the Muthyuh Preservation Society.

Dog Med

Dodi get is cheezie sometime
fo bed, sometime with is supper.
Dodi lick is wrist knuckles
fo sleepie, joyin da crib ah
definid f'heeum.

Dodi gotta condition an it
ain't not gettin inny bedder
but neethuh izit gettin whurs
cuz ah hide sm dog mayud
in he cheezie.

Shirley v. Dodi al Fayed

Here's how Shirley get Dodi out his privilege rug and pillow for illin pets:
She come up with a bone, drop it right there nex his head,
start growling like he gonna take it;
he's lying there like what?
she get so scary he get up and leave.
she lie down on da pillow saying I'm da top bitch now.
Po Dodi sleep on da wood flo.
He got a condition and he her elder. It his dogbed.