Killing Fuck (1483 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.83 on 41 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Snark << snarkk.at.gmail.com (View user info) at 2007-02-01 13:02:58 EST
Janx is standing in the middle of the devastation - polaski in hand - and running one soot encrusted palm over his broad sweating face while he wonders who on earth had the nerve to kill his fuck.
He's wearing a t-shirt that used to be white but is now somewhere between that and cremated chlorophyll. His hard hat sits by the pump along with the rest of the crew's shit: Lunches... raingear... the usual stuff. We wear our hard hats when someone of note is on the block, which never happens on a prescribed burn. Otherwise there is really no use. Everything higher than a stump was cut during the winter. Anything that was missed by man borne chain or machine borne saw was burnt a few days ago.
The sun is high and the ground is black. It's mostly cooled off but seems to reflect the sunlight as if it were tin foil silver, jacking the temperature a good fifteen degrees beyond what one would expect.
It's 1994. It's late July and my skin no longer burns without sunscreen, it just glows deep brown where it isn't streaked by soot.
I like it hot. I still remember the bugs of spring and early summer. I remember the taste of them and the feel of them in my throat and nasal passages. I remember the endless drone of their wings and the taste of deet. I don't need to wear that anymore either. It's too hot for bugs and I'm pretty sure my body manufactures the carcinogen all by itself now anyways.
The tops of my ears don't itch anymore. The sun can't fry them like bacon in a pan if it doesn't have the bug dope to heat like grease.
I'm kneeling behind a stump and watching Janx. My left hand is on the lever of the 'Y' at my feet. One side of the 'Y' is connected to the hose Janx was holding prior to picking up the polaski, the other side is shooting the water I've redirected from the hose into the ground at my feet. The thick ash turns to grey mud. It sticks out in stark contrast to the deep orange of my ballistic nylon enforced rubber boots. I twist an ankle and put pressure on my feet, forcing the spikes sticking out of the bottom of my boots to bite through the slick mud to impale the dirt beneath and keep me rooted.
The rest of the crew is spread out across the 80 hectare block. Some of them patrol for possible escapes into the timber and others work hot spots similar to what Janx was working; pockets of super heated rock, peat, or charcoal beneath the scorched earth. They sit and smolder, a slim trail of barely discernible smoke, at times, the only give away.
The fire beneath is patient. It can wait for weeks before finding its way to the surface and re-igniting a block, then sending renewed flame to lick hungrily at our equipment or the thick forest surrounding us.
I've seen a block that was cold for 4 days become a nightmare world of flame and smoke after a couple hours of dry wind. I've felt the thick white miasma find its way out of deep earthen ovens to fill my lungs and render my eyes nearly useless.
There's something strangely rewarding about the geyser of steam that shoots out of the ground when the knife edge of water from the end of your fire hose finds a hot spot. There's something entrancing about the sizzle and "PHOOF" as cold meets hot and then you're working the ground at your feet. You're pushing the pressurized necessity of all life deep into the earth, using it to cut through root and dirt in the hunt for the secret places beneath you where the heart of fire lies in wait. Sometimes you lose yourself to the hunt, caught in the constantly elongating moment, lost to the constant push of the hose in your hands and warm embrace of the steam on your skin. You're part machine, part animal. You've found your fuck and if you're lucky, it'll carry you to the end of the day.
Janx yells my name as loud as he can. He knows I'm the pump guy for the day but the pump is eight hundred meters away and he's not looking forward to making the hike back only to find he might as well turn around because I'm gassing it up or replacing a length of hose somewhere along the line.
The heat keeps the bugs down alright but it saps a mans energy by the time the sun is as high as it is. Eight hundred meters might as well be sixteen hundred.
I should wear a hat but I've never really liked them and my girlfriend likes the way radiation puts a reddish tint in my dull brown hair.
Janx gives the hose at his feet a kick then starts trudging his way towards the pump and I decide that it's time.
The lever squeaks in protest as I move it back to its original position; diverting the water into the deflated hose, sending it to push the frog I've placed in it towards Janx at breakneck speed.
Behind him, the end of the hose sputters and spits like a lung shot camel. The big man abruptly stops in his tracks and then turns and sprints back to the silver nozzle where it jerks in the muddy soot.
He grabs it before the approaching pressure can hit it and turn it into an writhing aluminum headed beast, then plants himself on the balls of his feet and prepares to counter the powerful back thrust of the hose with his own weight.
I watch the water shoot towards him, turning the hose from deflated cylinder to rock hard length until it reaches Janx and the nozzle held white knuckled in his hands.
He gives a thickly accented shout of triumph followed by "What the sweet fancy fuck?" as a thin weak stream of water juts out the end of the hose in place of the cutting tool he'd been expecting.
The water makes a sound much like a playing card in the spokes of a bike or one of those old fashioned lawn sprinklers and he looks at it puzzled for a moment before my French Canadian friend recognizes the frog leg jutting from the nozzle and flailing wildly in the stream for what it is.
For a moment he does nothing, and then my dust hardened lips almost split from my smile as he points his face into the sun and releases great loud guffaws from his barrel chest.
I stay and listen to him until he's done. I close my eyes and concentrate on his ground shaking laughter before retreating to my spot at the water hole and the roaring red Honda that is sucking the life out of it.
A new set of disposable ear plugs form to my inner ear as I wonder how long it'll take Janx to clear the hose. The constant roar of the pump doesn't make my head want to split anymore. I don't think the unbearable headache will return.
I have a different sound to dwell on now.
User Reviews
Submitted by Stabkill (user info) at 2008-09-15 15:06:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
.
Submitted by Alter (user info) at 2007-09-26 22:38:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No, Comment.
Submitted by ih8u2man (user info) at 2007-06-18 15:53:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2007-02-13 00:34:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
in 96 we sucked up dozens of piranha, from the Para river, into the mud-pump feeding our Ideco rig
worked better than the chemicals we were using and didn't seem to hurt the bit at all
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2007-02-12 23:57:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Birthday suit pics please?
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2007-02-12 23:48:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
http://www.ubersite.com/m/81126#1747181
----
"Hey snakr"
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-10 10:57:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I missed this. Nice slice of life writing.
And HB, Snark.
Submitted by Danger_Ranger (user info) at 2007-02-10 09:33:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I didn't read it, because I probably wrote it. Happy birthday Snatrick McSnazy, what are you, fifty now? eat shit and die plagilariest.
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2007-02-10 06:38:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Haven't read this, but the title intrigues me.
Submitted by Coyote (user info) at 2007-02-10 06:23:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Happy birthday, drunken +2 hander-outer.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2007-02-10 04:54:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2007-02-02 08:39:49 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Wisher (user info) at 2007-02-01 23:05:39 (#)
Ranking: 2
You're on my list
___________
You're on my list too.
You're number 3.
There's not many people on it because the title of the list takes up most of a page.
"People who need to stop writing better than I ever could if they want to live past their next birthday instead of, oh, I don't know, being found by an early morning jogger who stumbles over their severed left arm and falls face first into the still-steaming eviscera that's been artistically draped beside the footpath in the shape of a semicolon."
=================
To late beautiful. As of an hour and fifty three minutes ago, it is my next birthday.
Submitted by shandythedog (user info) at 2007-02-08 01:27:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I've felt the thick white miasma find its way out of deep earthen ovens
did i mention my views on this structure to you before, or was it coyote or someone else?
also, i would avoid flames licking hungrily
Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2007-02-02 15:41:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2007-02-02 12:45:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2007-02-02 08:39:49 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Wisher (user info) at 2007-02-01 23:05:39 (#)
Ranking: 2
You're on my list
___________
You're on my list too.
You're number 3.
There's not many people on it because the title of the list takes up most of a page.
"People who need to stop writing better than I ever could if they want to live past their next birthday instead of, oh, I don't know, being found by an early morning jogger who stumbles over their severed left arm and falls face first into the still-steaming eviscera that's been artistically draped beside the footpath in the shape of a semicolon."
======================
Ahahahahaha
Holy shit have I missed you!
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2007-02-02 08:39:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Wisher (user info) at 2007-02-01 23:05:39 (#)
Ranking: 2
You're on my list
___________
You're on my list too.
You're number 3.
There's not many people on it because the title of the list takes up most of a page.
"People who need to stop writing better than I ever could if they want to live past their next birthday instead of, oh, I don't know, being found by an early morning jogger who stumbles over their severed left arm and falls face first into the still-steaming eviscera that's been artistically draped beside the footpath in the shape of a semicolon."
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2007-02-02 03:35:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by DCWoody (user info) at 2007-02-02 01:01:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
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Submitted by Wisher (user info) at 2007-02-01 23:05:39 (#)
Ranking: 2
You're on my list~~ of people I should look for and read on this site. The list was given to me, and I haven't even read half of 'em. I'd rather find them myself. Anyhow, you have the feel for it.
It's like guitar. I've seen lotsa guys hanging out after hours at clubs to let so and so hear them play {even electric guitars unplugged in a parking lot no less} and the elders saying those words, you have the feel for it. I seldom write and by no means am saying i'm an elder, but, like someone off in the shadows watching those unplugged players, I'm thinking what they say. God, he can play!
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Now that's an endorsement and a half.....thought I'd already rated this, apparently not.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2007-02-02 00:49:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Tell her to stay in school and don't do drugs. What kind of role model are you?
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2007-02-02 00:45:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Wisher (user info) at 2007-02-01 23:05:39 (#)
Ranking: 2
You're on my list~~ of people I should look for and read on this site. The list was given to me, and I haven't even read half of 'em. I'd rather find them myself. Anyhow, you have the feel for it.
It's like guitar. I've seen lotsa guys hanging out after hours at clubs to let so and so hear them play {even electric guitars unplugged in a parking lot no less} and the elders saying those words, you have the feel for it. I seldom write and by no means am saying i'm an elder, but, like someone off in the shadows watching those unplugged players, I'm thinking what they say. God, he can play!
================================
Thank You.
I don't know what else to say.
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2007-02-02 00:26:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I "fought" fires for a while. Really, I just stood around for 14 hours a day and got paid lots of overtime. Happy days.
Submitted by Wisher (user info) at 2007-02-01 23:05:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You're on my list~~ of people I should look for and read on this site. The list was given to me, and I haven't even read half of 'em. I'd rather find them myself. Anyhow, you have the feel for it.
It's like guitar. I've seen lotsa guys hanging out after hours at clubs to let so and so hear them play {even electric guitars unplugged in a parking lot no less} and the elders saying those words, you have the feel for it. I seldom write and by no means am saying i'm an elder, but, like someone off in the shadows watching those unplugged players, I'm thinking what they say. God, he can play!
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2007-02-01 22:24:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-02-01 20:51:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
.
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-02-01 20:50:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2007-02-01 20:48:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Run on for a long time.
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2007-02-01 18:18:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Maltese (user info) at 2007-02-01 16:16:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Foolproof (user info) at 2007-02-01 16:07:10 (#)
Ranking: 2
All I thought about during this was "Would you like some making fuck - BESERKER!"
Title distracted me...
Submitted by Maltese (user info) at 2007-02-01 16:15:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
http://www.ubersite.com/cgi-bin/message_submit.cgi?subject=lol&category=1&message=im_stupid
Submitted by Foolproof (user info) at 2007-02-01 16:07:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
All I thought about during this was "Would you like some making fuck - BESERKER!"
Title distracted me...
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2007-02-01 15:43:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by DirtyHarry (user info) at 2007-02-01 14:57:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2007-02-01 14:45:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2007-02-01 14:16:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I make it a practice to auto +2 janx. Now to read.
Submitted by iddqd (user info) at 2007-02-01 13:40:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
yeah ok. take it and begone.
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-02-01 13:33:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Oh yeah...I love you, Snark!
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-02-01 13:32:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I have absolutely NO idea where that came from. It just popped into my head.
v
v
v
v
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-02-01 13:32:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I have a different sound to dwell on now, too...
NUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2007-02-01 13:28:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Auto Snark +2
Submitted by Anansie (user info) at 2007-02-01 13:16:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2007-02-01 13:16:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Best title ever, this should have been in ubermadness.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2007-02-01 13:06:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Did you know Franz Kafka invented the hard hat?
True story, I swear.