Death Muffin Pudding Love Invades (789 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: fiction
Rating: 1.6 on 22 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by a wallflower (View user info) at 2004-09-22 19:09:51 EDT
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Slowly...
Identity.
"Say, aren't you the guy with that website--you're still dating Lila, right?"
While Lila had been as hot as the eternal flame, she was not--that's not a problem for
me, though; trust is my problem--yet of course she was beautiful in her own way, as all
women are. Her eyes still had a delicate glimmer of cheerful, determined innosense.
She was Alice, I the caterpillar. I always regret first and never answer later.
I cast a simple spell, and they see signs and wonder. False prophets, arise.
I intone quietly, as if I were the big, bad grandma smuggling some despicable poem
through Douanes, with her matronly caboose chock-full of heroin polyps and dialog
balloons. I eat lunch for breakfast naked, and all like that. Compelled, compelled,
compelled--I speak and I don't stop until the inevitable awkward, dreadful silence....
The light is fading. She can't climb, this wall's too high. Maybe grandma is a wolf.
I have judged, condemned and sentenced love's executioner. I love trains and charades,
and rain on parades. All metaphors lie. I so despise the suffering of fools. Fools.
Twenty-thirty-forty-fifty-something, more, booming X-gen-Yuppie joggers pacing to and
fro on measured floors, in their empty cage of dreary somethingness. If they could
only know: how refreshing to dive free and clear through this ocean, this burden of
light. There is no hardness like the yoke of the sleepwalkers. Mind parasites, all
of them. Whereas I am Vampir, master not a slave. Yea, verily--The dead shall walk
the earth. The song of this world lulls them, while I have found the key. They love
deception. I love not to hate them back in self-defense. Fools. I'm just glad....
So, she walks away after maybe five minutes--lights out. I'm burning in darkness.
'Twas ever thus ... except for Lila.
It was not my fault. This is my unforgivable mantra. Lila did not walk away.
There was one other, my first. That was different, and forgivable. I seldom think
of her at all; so long ago washed away in the tides of time, she rarely haunts me now.
But Lila does, her ghost my shadow--a dimly mirrored memory of a long, dark night....
I wander over to the buffet and find there's nothing much for me to eat. It's a
carnivore's delight: delectable flesh and the juices therefrom; secretions, both fresh
and congealed, of bovine (I imagine) mammary glands; the abortions of various birds.
You'd think sentient carnivores might have a subconscious, survival-instinct urge to
care for vegans, and provide them with food--just in case of an unexpected plane crash
in the Andes or other dire situation. But at least I do find a decent Pinot Noir. It's
probably been filtered with egg whites, but fuck it. Now, once more into the breach....
After hours of way-too-highbrow cocktail party psychobabble; after an interminable,
hope-crushing sentence of numbing, metaphysical mind-rape gibberish-explosions of primal
fight-or-flight rage and despair--masquerading as educated but cunning politeness--
relentlessly evolving, in brilliant blinding flashes, the ceaseless chatter of the
increasingly fashionable monkey-like creatures, as they habitually sublime their
inexplicable urge to reproduce; after Time itself has slowed to an unendurable, crawling
anguish: then, and only then, hope truly unfolds its crumpled, leathery wings, and the
torturous passage mined from desperation opens up, like a Wonderland repast, into a
daring escape from the depths of another dreary dungeon--a mercifully fated, ontological
revelation: all parties must die. And their little dogs, too. All roads lead to Kansas.
Always follow the yellow brick rules: never be punctual, never be the last to leave.
Such a wonderful wizard. Now the party's almost over and I'm alone again, naturally.
I'd told her friends Lila had gone to the Netherlands for a funeral. The story cost
me nothing--a bargain price for my precious time. So much to do, so little worth saying.
For now, I patiently await the inevitable, pounding knock of authority upon my door....
I will open and go peacefully. I will gild myself with politeness. Bartering my shreds
of dignity for an aura of contrived nobility, I won't play false to my pretension, nor
to the laws of rueful life. I have a lease upon my soul, and an hourglass half-empty.
In the meantime, I'm still quite popular with a certain set of intellectual fascists.
And I'll go to a few more parties, drink their wine, and eat their snacks. And tiptoe
merrily through the vast expanse of their collective cognitive wasteland, for amusement
only, ever laughing on the inside. And I will always be looking for another Lila.
The Dreamtime: the dawn: then, finally--the Reaper. I harvest that which I have sown.
Happiness.
+
Okay. Before people who bothered reading that far jump all over me for the possibly
unfair sentence, I want to point out that I realize my attempt--to create a character
with very smart intelligence, and whom you would without doubt certainly want to invite
to your next party--may have failed miserably. Nevertheless, I believe there may be
some chance that said sentence is actually well-formed. If not, it should be released
on probation. This story also comes with a double-money-back guarantee, or kill me.
Notes: many of you will know this already, but I wanted to mention that "lila" is from
the Sanskrit and may be translated as "play." It is somewhat complementary to "maya."
Yes, innosense. You don't have to like it.
(Douanes = Customs. I did that to be irritating and/or because I'm a dumbass. Sorry.)
If you're too poor to pay attention, you can always just sell out. Time to go to work.
[Not! (responsible) for, punctuation--which--is; difficult "for me" for, some: reason?
this story has been chomping at the bits and pieces of my mind and NOW YOUR SOUL IS MINE
--Department of Harmless and Beneficial ParaMindsites
User Reviews
Submitted by satchel (user info) at 2005-02-08 16:13:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by FilthyAssistant (user info) at 2005-01-16 15:32:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
By the time I had got to 'with her matronly caboose chock-full of heroin polyps and dialog balloons' I had decided that I wanted to be permanently bound to you in some sort of legal ceremony that involves goat sacrifice and sudden uncontrolled nakedness. Bravo.
Submitted by Istaros (user info) at 2005-01-16 15:18:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
i'm going to get a custom-made t-shirt with that slogan emblazoned across the chest:
"all parties must die."
Submitted by Istaros (user info) at 2004-11-22 20:20:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
thanks for showing this to me
Submitted by drfeggphd (user info) at 2004-09-23 08:36:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
FEGG <ego balloon expanded to bursting point>: Yes, I'm relatively awe-inspiring.
FEGG'S BRAIN: The souls were leased. We're not stealing--we're repossessing them.
Submitted by DamienX <DamienX.at.home.com> at 2004-09-23 00:48:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I was just sitting here thinking that right about now you were probably in the singing
marshmallow stages of a pink and green polkadotted mushroom induced coma, and that you
probably wouldn't read this until later but for what it's worth, although I failed to
appreciate the profoundness of your actual post (probably because I haven't dropped acid
in about 20 years), you're obviously quite the kicker of ass as far as writing ability goes.
Anyway, good luck with the whole soul stealing thing.
Submitted by drfeggphd (user info) at 2004-09-23 00:17:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
>> We were in my car. The check engine light was on. Squirrels have fluffy tails. <<
I gotta steal that bit. -- (KRUSTY THE KLOWN)
I have Deconstructed.
Anyhoo, no problemo--all I'm concerned about is souls.
Submitted by DamienX <DamienX.at.home.com> at 2004-09-23 00:07:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Woops. And here's that shiney new +2 I promised.
Submitted by DamienX <DamienX.at.home.com> at 2004-09-23 00:04:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Whoa there big guy...
Sorry about the misunderstanding I hope this was. I really didn't mean any offense by my
pointless, meaningless, stupid comment. It was just that: pointless, meaningless and stupid,
but that's what I do best. For the record, the 'Bush' I was referring to is a band (and before anybody else reams me, a band I like), not the corrupt political figurehead. When you take those two lines I quoted and put them together it kinda sounds not unlike a Bush song.
Example fake Bush lyrics:
"We were in my car. The check engine light was on. Squirrels have fluffy tails."
(my apologies to Bush for any similarities)
Anyway, sorry, and a +2 because I've been laughing my ass off (omg!!11!!!) reading your replies
to, um, your replies.
Please accept my apologies, and if not well you're obviously quite insane so I won't dare
insult you.
(that last line was a joke, so please don't kill my cat)
(that was a joke too)
(kinda)
Submitted by drfeggphd (user info) at 2004-09-22 22:24:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
FEGG: <claps hands and wipes brow> YES! Another soul!
Submitted by sketch9 (user info) at 2004-09-22 22:17:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
hahahaha....
+2 just for the comments alone.
you kick ass.
Submitted by drfeggphd (user info) at 2004-09-22 22:16:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
We are not monsters, we're moral people
And yet we have the strength to do this...
How bad it gets you can't imagine
The burning wax, the breath of reptiles
-- Shriekback, 'Nemesis', tr. Pending
I shall make their minds sluggish,
that they shall neither understand nor discern.
-- Secret Book of John 11:23, tr. Meyer
FEGG'S BRAIN: I don't understand.
FEGG: Heh.
Submitted by drfeggphd (user info) at 2004-09-22 22:15:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Priests and cannibals, Prehistoric animals
Everybody happy as the dead come home
Big white nemesis, Parthenogenesis
No one move a muscle as the dead come home
-- Shriekback, 'Nemesis', tr. Pending
They put their Tree of Life in the middle of Paradise...
the root of their Tree is bitter, its branches are death,
its shadow is hatred, a trap is in its leaves...
-- Secret Book of John 11:10-12, tr. Meyer
FEGG'S BRAIN: What is this?
Submitted by drfeggphd (user info) at 2004-09-22 22:13:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
But we no pleasure is not that simple
Very little fruit is forbidden
Sometimes we wobble, sometimes we're strong
But you know Evil is an exact Science
Being carefully correctly wrong
-- Shriekback, 'Nemesis', tr. Pending
Their pleasure is a trap,
their trees are evil,
their fruit is deadly poison,
their promise is death.
-- Secret Book of John 11:9, tr. Meyer
Submitted by drfeggphd (user info) at 2004-09-22 22:12:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
In a jungle of the senses
Tinkerbell and Jack the Ripper
Love has no meaning
Not where they come from
-- Shriekback, 'Nemesis' tr. Pending
The rulers took Adam, and put Adam in Paradise.
They said, 'Eat, and be merry!' But their pleasure is
bitter and their beauty is perverse.
-- Secret Book of John 11:8 tr. Meyer
FEGG'S BRAIN: Now you're posting quotes?
FEGG: Fuck you! You can't stop me! I have a plan!
Submitted by drfeggphd (user info) at 2004-09-22 22:02:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
FEGG'S BRAIN: Ahem. Excuse me--not to dwell on petty detail, but I think
you left out the closing parenthesis in your second review post.
FEGG: I was upset!
FEGG'S BRAIN: That's not a very good excuse.
FEGG: Fuck you! DIE!
FEGG'S BRAIN: Wow. Um.... Are you sure about that?
FEGG: YES! FUCKING DIE!
FEGG'S BRAIN: Can I think about it? Do I have time to smoke a cigarette?
FEGG: Take all the time you want. I will kill you, eventually.
FEGG'S BRAIN: Are you sure this isn't about those mushrooms you took?
FEGG: So I can't tie my shoes (-- Max Webster), so fucking what? DIE!
FEGG'S BRAIN: That doesn't seem like a very good idea, somehow.
FEGG: I am smarter than the mind parasites! It's a very good idea!
FEGG: Oh, yeah
Submitted by drfeggphd (user info) at 2004-09-22 21:44:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
FEGG'S BRAIN: Well, at least the reviews are kind of interesting.
FEGG: Go fuck yourself.
FEGG'S BRAIN: Oh, yeah
Submitted by drfeggphd (user info) at 2004-09-22 21:41:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
He who writes in blood don't want to be red
He must be learned by heart -- Adam Ant
He who writes in blood doesn't want to be read
He must be learned by heart -- some person who translated Nietzsche
I was going to do a semi-clever piece with this based on:
It is a revelation to compare Menard's Don Quixote with Cervantes'.
The latter, for example, wrote (part one, chapter nine):
...truth, whose mother is history, rival of time, depository
of deeds, witness of the past, exemplar and advisor to the
present, and the future's counselor.
Written in the seventeenth century, written by the "lay genius" Cervantes,
this enumeration is a mere rhetorical praise of history.
Menard, on the other hand, writes:
...truth, whose mother is history, rival of time, depository
of deeds, witness of the past, exemplar and advisor to the
present, and the future's counselor.
History, the mother of truth: the idea is astounding. Menard,
a contemporary of William James, does not define history as an inquiry
into reality but as its origin. Historical truth, for him, is not
what has happened; it is what we judge to have happened.
The final phrases--exemplar and advisor to the present, and the future's
counselor--are brazenly pragmatic.
- by Jorge Luis Borges (Labyrinths)
But then it occurred to me there probably aren't any people here who even know
who Borges and Nietzsche are. Besides, they are both dead! So, why bother?
FEGG'S BRAIN: It's just a fucking website.
FEGG: Oh, yeah
Submitted by drfeggphd (user info) at 2004-09-22 21:18:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
FEGG's BRAIN: Whoa, there--you were a little hard on the kid.
FEGG: Nobody understands me except possibly Munkeypants.
FEGG'S BRAIN: So?
FEGG: I want to go back to the other dimension where it's fun.
FEGG'S BRAIN: Why?
FEGG: Because nobody here understands me.
FEGG'S BRAIN: It is inconsequential.
FEGG: Oh, yeah
Submitted by drfeggphd (user info) at 2004-09-22 21:10:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
One more thing, DamienX (and I must preface this by revealing that
I have recently changed my diet to the Fegg diet: beer and ELF radiation):
It occurs to me that you may not have been giving me a backhanded
compliment, but rather accusing me of plagiarism. Since I ALWAYS
attribute when I knowingly use someone else's word patterns (unless I feel
the quoted material would be easily recognized by those who are well-read
[as would be the words of the Earl of Oxford (I think), who wrote
Shakespeare's material, for instance], I felt somewhat insulted, until I
realized that you possibly only read the small paragraphs containing
only one sentence. Because the big paragraphs would be beyond the capability
of the asshole moron I think you might be. If so, go fuck yourself.
And if what *** I WROTE *** was also written by Bush--well that happens:
May the melody of peace be cast forth
from Krishna's flute into the world
whispering that infinite secret:
"We are One; we are One."
--found on the fucking box of fucking "Yogi Tea Rooibos Chai" tea
fucking located in my fucking kitchen cabinet (look it up if you doubt)
Post a fucking link or FUCKING DIE you pathetic cunt.
Note: I call you a cunt only because I'm pretty sure you are male--I wouldn't
call a female a cunt. If you're female: I'm sorry. If you're male: FUCKING
DIE YOU PATHETIC FUCKING CUNT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Note: if you were somehow expressing pleasure at the words, then ignore above rant.
Submitted by drfeggphd (user info) at 2004-09-22 19:35:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
>>Are these Bush lyrics?<<
Not so far as I know, but I despise politics.
Submitted by DamienX (user info) at 2004-09-22 19:18:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I cast a simple spell, and they see signs and wonder. False prophets, arise.
The light is fading. She can't climb, this wall's too high. Maybe grandma is a wolf.
Are these Bush lyrics?