January 2006
What was I doing in Midland, Texas?
More importantly, what was I doing in Midland, Texas watching American Idol?
Well the answer to the first question is that I was on a work trip, but the second question may never be answered.
If there is a moral to American Idol, it is "don't even bother, leave it to the 'experts'", and it reaffirmed my growing paranoia(?) that absolutely nothing on TV is real.
I was reading in Lenny Bruce's autobiography about how he worked for one of those early game shows where even though the "grand prize" was supposed to be thousands of dollars, the "contestants" just received $25 a day and went home with nothing, "win" or "lose". You make more money (even accounting 50s dollars vs 00s dollars) getting on Jerry Springer.
Look hard enough, you can find the politics in everything. Even in a show that celebrates the crushing of dreams, the producers must have taken perverse pleasure in bringing out two aspiring businessmen; one an entrepreneur, one an inventor. They spent an uncomfortable amount of time watching the first consistently mispronounce the name and motto of his own company several times, and the latter describe over and over what was an admittedly simple device.
"You're useless, I'm bored." said Simon to the latter, and told the former that there "would be no next time". Leave it to the experts indeed. Not only are your dreams of stardom stupid, but your other ideas and plans as well.
I'm admittedly pretty cynical, but even my skepticism was thrown for a loop by the cowboy. I thought to God I had hallucinated the whole absurd fucking thing, if someone hadn't mentioned it the next day.
C'mon now. Goddamn.
He lives in a "town with only four people" but his family has FIVE people! Feral animals have more human interaction than you'd infer he had from his back story. How did he find out about the contest? And notice he's the only one they had footage of from his ranch home.
C'mon now. Goddamn.
And they're gonna coach Feral Cowboy McChucklehead through his audition and tell him he can make it to the next level if he gets a vocal coach (which will, coincidentally, be a hidden "sixth" occupant of his four person village, I'm sure). The thought that there is anyone in the world that takes any of this crap seriously is absurd. Like "Please God tell me I'm still asleep or on drugs" kind of absurd.
And then, to cap it all off, I had an epiphany about God. Or rather about Jesus.
Specifically, how he talks about "not being of this world", and about people like him who are also "not of this world", and all about "rejecting the world" and such. What if he's not talking about sin? What if he's talking about the completely ludicrous nature of politics and pop?
When you see how the constant court battles of Marilyn Manson sound exactly like the court battles of Lenny Bruce 50 years before which sound like the battles of Oscar Wilde 50 years before which sound like the court battles of Aaron Burr 50 years before which sound like the same troubles suffered by Diogenes and Aleister Crowley and Voltaire and Giordano Bruno and De Sade and Socrates and even Jesus. The world devouring those that "are not of it".
Aleister Crowley believed that this condition of "not being of the world" was actually the potential for genius. I am inclined to agree.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Mushroom Flashbacks At The Grocery Store.
September 2005.
Tidy.
Tidy and colorful.
Everything's designed to grab your attention
Like the way a computer monitor flickers
In your peripheral vision.
And the hair raises on the back of your neck
As if you're being watched
You realize it's hundreds of little faces
Sports heroes and movie stars and such -
Feces on boxes and cans
Aisles and aisles of orphans
That just
Want
To
Go
Home
With you.
You find yourself unable to move
In the frozen food aisle.
Contemplating the faces
On the Blue Bell Ice Cream treat boxes.
Who are these people?
The girl playing dress-up
The female postal-worker
The jughead in the straw hat
The fat-faced little-league coach
No names to the faces, but as unconsciously familiar
As the trumps of a Tarot deck.
You must have been staring a long time,
because you look up and
You
Forgot
Just
How
Big
The store is.
Suddenly a bird lands at your feet -
At first you think you imagined it
But then you realize it's real
And you can't stop laughing.
And your mind is sent into the future
After you and your fellow shoppers are dead
And the cavernous space above is dense with
Branches, vines, and nesting animals
Wild dogs will prowl the check-out lanes
The stockroom will host a den of bears
And this bird's children will glide down
From a forgotten air-duct.
And all the supermarkets will then be the forests.
Tidy.
Tidy and colorful.
Everything's designed to grab your attention
Like the way a computer monitor flickers
In your peripheral vision.
And the hair raises on the back of your neck
As if you're being watched
You realize it's hundreds of little faces
Sports heroes and movie stars and such -
Feces on boxes and cans
Aisles and aisles of orphans
That just
Want
To
Go
Home
With you.
You find yourself unable to move
In the frozen food aisle.
Contemplating the faces
On the Blue Bell Ice Cream treat boxes.
Who are these people?
The girl playing dress-up
The female postal-worker
The jughead in the straw hat
The fat-faced little-league coach
No names to the faces, but as unconsciously familiar
As the trumps of a Tarot deck.
You must have been staring a long time,
because you look up and
You
Forgot
Just
How
Big
The store is.
Suddenly a bird lands at your feet -
At first you think you imagined it
But then you realize it's real
And you can't stop laughing.
And your mind is sent into the future
After you and your fellow shoppers are dead
And the cavernous space above is dense with
Branches, vines, and nesting animals
Wild dogs will prowl the check-out lanes
The stockroom will host a den of bears
And this bird's children will glide down
From a forgotten air-duct.
And all the supermarkets will then be the forests.
THE PLAN. A Work Of Fiction (Or Not?).
Originally written April 2005.
I thought it was all over. I had convinced myself defeat was inevitable, that my personal nihilism was reinforced by a cruel and random universe. I felt that overall, there was no rational reason to hope for anything better.
This hopelessness even began to manifest itself, not just personally, but also in my love life. Those few times when someone could stand to be around me for more than a couple of weeks quickly disintegrated from passion to petty bitterness.
I felt I was at an impasse, and wondered how many more dead-end jobs and doomed relationships I could endure. I decided to end it all.
I sat on the railing of the overpass, waiting for the right moment to jump. Suddenly, the frantic blaring of a car horn startled me so much I almost toppled over.
The man inside called out to me... "It's not all over! Defeat is not inevitable! I can help you!" It was like he had read my mind. Without quite knowing why, I approached and got in his car.
I asked him how he knew that I was going to jump. To the average passerby, I must have looked like any other pedestrian on the overpass.
"I've seen that look before." he replied. "I remember feeling not unlike that myself, before I discovered that which has restored my hope, my truth and my life... "
After a dramatic pause he continued, "...Have you ever heard of THE PLAN?" I admitted that I had not.
He went on to tell me how once he accepted THE PLAN into his heart and his life that he had felt the change instantaneously and has kept that initial sense of security and peace ever since. He asked me if I was beginning to feel the urge to accept THE PLAN into my heart and my life. Being a natural skeptic, I asked for more information.
"Do not harden your heart! Would you like me to drop you off back at the overpass, so you can continue what you were about to do? Of course not! The very fact that you are here in this car and asking for more information shows that you are ready to take that first step. But I will only continue if I am sure you will receive this gift with an open heart. Are you ready to open your heart to the message of THE PLAN?"
After I sheepishly nodded my head, he continued: "So many of us are not using our full potential. Some might say we are being persecuted by an outside force, a sort of negative entropy. I can see in your eyes that you are virtually drowning in this evil force. But a release from the chains has emerged. We have a savior. THE PLAN has come to return our potential to us. THE PLAN has many names, but we must never speak them. The persecution on this plane is too great."
He then reached into his glove compartment and brought out a pamphlet and laid it into my lap. He insisted I examine it, in order to take the next step in gaining the knowledge and power promised by THE PLAN.
It was a catalog, not unlike the kind I find in my mailbox practically daily. I expressed my confusion.
"After all this progress, you cannot harden your heart to me now! You are so close to taking that important first step! That catalog is not similar to the kind you are used to! For a small one time fee, the items in that catalog are available to you at bulk price, the same paid for by stores before their markup! Wouldn't that be great in and of itself? So many of those that accept THE PLAN into their hearts and lives just take advantage of that great offer and find contentment that way. However, the real benefits come in when you go into the world to teach of THE PLAN, and to convert other lost souls to the truth of personal fulfillment!"
"But isn't that just like Am-" I managed to say before he silenced me harshly.
"Do not speak the name of THE PLAN! As I said, the persecution in this plane of existence is too great! You cannot tell me that after learning of this, that you want to go back to your life before hearing of THE PLAN! The benefits are great, and practically eternal! All you need to do is open your heart! It asks nothing of you, but you get what you put in!
Even if you want time to decide, THE PLAN will be here for you when you come back. Please do not surrender to the forces that I can see pervade and threaten your entire current existence.
You did not even have to search, THE PLAN found you! If I had driven over that overpass minutes or even seconds later, you would not be here to argue the merits of THE PLAN! Is that not proof enough of the wisdom and power of THE PLAN? It is a force outside and beyond human comprehension! And I am prepared to Initiate you into true communion with it! Please say you will open your heart, and pay the small introductory fee!"
And at that moment, I released myself from mortal law and accepted THE PLAN into my life. He was right, the sense of peace was instantaneous and resides with me even now. And only for a small introductory fee.
I have never been happier. I understand now.
Have you ever heard of THE PLAN?
I thought it was all over. I had convinced myself defeat was inevitable, that my personal nihilism was reinforced by a cruel and random universe. I felt that overall, there was no rational reason to hope for anything better.
This hopelessness even began to manifest itself, not just personally, but also in my love life. Those few times when someone could stand to be around me for more than a couple of weeks quickly disintegrated from passion to petty bitterness.
I felt I was at an impasse, and wondered how many more dead-end jobs and doomed relationships I could endure. I decided to end it all.
I sat on the railing of the overpass, waiting for the right moment to jump. Suddenly, the frantic blaring of a car horn startled me so much I almost toppled over.
The man inside called out to me... "It's not all over! Defeat is not inevitable! I can help you!" It was like he had read my mind. Without quite knowing why, I approached and got in his car.
I asked him how he knew that I was going to jump. To the average passerby, I must have looked like any other pedestrian on the overpass.
"I've seen that look before." he replied. "I remember feeling not unlike that myself, before I discovered that which has restored my hope, my truth and my life... "
After a dramatic pause he continued, "...Have you ever heard of THE PLAN?" I admitted that I had not.
He went on to tell me how once he accepted THE PLAN into his heart and his life that he had felt the change instantaneously and has kept that initial sense of security and peace ever since. He asked me if I was beginning to feel the urge to accept THE PLAN into my heart and my life. Being a natural skeptic, I asked for more information.
"Do not harden your heart! Would you like me to drop you off back at the overpass, so you can continue what you were about to do? Of course not! The very fact that you are here in this car and asking for more information shows that you are ready to take that first step. But I will only continue if I am sure you will receive this gift with an open heart. Are you ready to open your heart to the message of THE PLAN?"
After I sheepishly nodded my head, he continued: "So many of us are not using our full potential. Some might say we are being persecuted by an outside force, a sort of negative entropy. I can see in your eyes that you are virtually drowning in this evil force. But a release from the chains has emerged. We have a savior. THE PLAN has come to return our potential to us. THE PLAN has many names, but we must never speak them. The persecution on this plane is too great."
He then reached into his glove compartment and brought out a pamphlet and laid it into my lap. He insisted I examine it, in order to take the next step in gaining the knowledge and power promised by THE PLAN.
It was a catalog, not unlike the kind I find in my mailbox practically daily. I expressed my confusion.
"After all this progress, you cannot harden your heart to me now! You are so close to taking that important first step! That catalog is not similar to the kind you are used to! For a small one time fee, the items in that catalog are available to you at bulk price, the same paid for by stores before their markup! Wouldn't that be great in and of itself? So many of those that accept THE PLAN into their hearts and lives just take advantage of that great offer and find contentment that way. However, the real benefits come in when you go into the world to teach of THE PLAN, and to convert other lost souls to the truth of personal fulfillment!"
"But isn't that just like Am-" I managed to say before he silenced me harshly.
"Do not speak the name of THE PLAN! As I said, the persecution in this plane of existence is too great! You cannot tell me that after learning of this, that you want to go back to your life before hearing of THE PLAN! The benefits are great, and practically eternal! All you need to do is open your heart! It asks nothing of you, but you get what you put in!
Even if you want time to decide, THE PLAN will be here for you when you come back. Please do not surrender to the forces that I can see pervade and threaten your entire current existence.
You did not even have to search, THE PLAN found you! If I had driven over that overpass minutes or even seconds later, you would not be here to argue the merits of THE PLAN! Is that not proof enough of the wisdom and power of THE PLAN? It is a force outside and beyond human comprehension! And I am prepared to Initiate you into true communion with it! Please say you will open your heart, and pay the small introductory fee!"
And at that moment, I released myself from mortal law and accepted THE PLAN into my life. He was right, the sense of peace was instantaneous and resides with me even now. And only for a small introductory fee.
I have never been happier. I understand now.
Have you ever heard of THE PLAN?
My "Breakfast Club" Epilogue.
Originally written March 2005.
My favorite part of "Breakfast Club" is the fact that the movie ends and you really have no idea whether any of the group talks to each other. They don't. The jock DOES NOT talk to the arty girl the next day, but brags to his friends later that he scored her. The thug DOES NOT talk to the princess again, but brags to his friends that he scored her. And they ALL shun the poor nerdy kid.
10 years later though, the thug and the princess meet in a swingers' bar. The thug has gained some beer weight, has a a few women's names tattooed on him and is addicted to online porn and penis enlargement products. The princess is fat, has 2 kids, and claims to be bi-curious. They fall in love again and live happily ever after.
The jock (obviously) becomes gay. The nerdy kid (obviously) becomes gay. They fall in love. Another happily ever after.
I actually had a one night stand (or maybe a couple) with the arty girl. She's currently claiming to be bisexual and has a really sweet girlfriend. We're still good friends. Come by the club I work at sometime, she's a regular. I'll introduce you....
My favorite part of "Breakfast Club" is the fact that the movie ends and you really have no idea whether any of the group talks to each other. They don't. The jock DOES NOT talk to the arty girl the next day, but brags to his friends later that he scored her. The thug DOES NOT talk to the princess again, but brags to his friends that he scored her. And they ALL shun the poor nerdy kid.
10 years later though, the thug and the princess meet in a swingers' bar. The thug has gained some beer weight, has a a few women's names tattooed on him and is addicted to online porn and penis enlargement products. The princess is fat, has 2 kids, and claims to be bi-curious. They fall in love again and live happily ever after.
The jock (obviously) becomes gay. The nerdy kid (obviously) becomes gay. They fall in love. Another happily ever after.
I actually had a one night stand (or maybe a couple) with the arty girl. She's currently claiming to be bisexual and has a really sweet girlfriend. We're still good friends. Come by the club I work at sometime, she's a regular. I'll introduce you....
The Last Shift I Ever Worked At My Last Job.
Originally written February 2005.
If you've been sober for 5 days and you STILL look like Nikki Sixx from Motley Crue, then either:
a) You're Nikki Sixx from Motley Crue... or
b) you need to call in sick for work.
I have not been sober for 5 consecutive days since I moved to Austin, until now. I'm halfway through my sixth, and I've been awake for about 22 hours. I think, besides this flu virus, I'm getting some serious alcohol withdrawal because I can't sleep. My boyfriend says I'm coughing like one of those sickly puppies in the pet store that noone buys cause they're obviously not long for this world.
So, since I won't be going to work tonight, it's Story Time!
This story takes us back about 8 months, back when I was an inventory specialist. Basically, you hop in a van, ride to a store, and count it all up. After 6 months it requires no thought at all, just mechanical 10-key work. I've done it for years. I could hold a detailed conversation, take notes in my head, or basically do whatever I wanted with the entire non-motor part of my brain the entire shift...
The major downside was that it didn't just give you a BAD sleeping schedule, it gave you NO sleeping schedule. Some stores wanted you done before they opened, some stores after they close, some stores during business hours. You could be told to meet the van nearly any possible time of day, or you didn't work.
In this case, we were off to a three-day stay in the valley (close to the border between Texas and Mexico, for you non-Texans). As in, you're still in Texas but I wouldn't drink the water if I were you. As in early morning trips in "borrowed" company vans to pick up phony prescriptions and smuggle back Valium and Ketamine.
But that was another, much more fun work trip. This one I was stuck with a massively overweight guy in my hotel room that snored. Bad. I spent the first night huddled under the bathroom sink, both pillows tied around the back of my head with a belt, and I could still hear him. I eventually slept that way, which was the cause for jokes the next day.
The next night I figured: no holds barred, this called for booze. Except there was no liquor store, so I could only pick convenience-store stuff. I figured fuck the beer, a bottle of MAD DOG will sing me to sleep. Only problem is, when I drink a whole bottle of MAD DOG, I begin to talk to God... (MAD DOG spelled backwards is GODDAM, after all).
As I'm walking back to the hotel from the convenience store, I give a passing spanger $5 dolars because I'm in a good mood, and he says "Praise God!" Then he says, "You know what kind of person you look like? You look like the kind of people I see over at the pizzeria down the street. Seems like a cool hangout for guys like you. You should go..." I wondered a bit about this Pizza Place, but knew I had to be up at 5am to get in the van, so I just filed it away.
Now maybe the rest of this can be attributed to the fact that I had had 3 hours of sleep the night before, but it was still really strange... The only thing on at the time was "Bruce Almighty", and I wound up watching it by myself, which intensified the MAD DOG God trip. Then immediately afterwards my roommate comes in and commences snoring, without allowing time for the booze to fully blossom and knock me out.
So there I was, drunk out of my mind but unable to sleep with the MAD DOG singing to me, "God wants you to check out that pizza place..." So I figure what the hell.
I find the pizza place, and it's totally empty. I almost give up and walk back, but then I decide a slice of pizza would probably do me good. I ask the owner where everybody is, and he points down a hallway that I would have assumed was employees only, being all wrecked chairs and upended pool tables. But then I heard music at the other end. My MAD DOG drenched mind was not prepared for what I saw...
I experienced my first Christian Heavy Metal Club that night. It was a huge warehouse, and the walls were swirls of angels whooping ass on demons all rendered in this combination of Mexican-Mayan traditional style and more Hispanic-tattoo style. There were bible quotes (all in Spanish) rendered in flaming letters. All this color and religion was just lighting up my MAD DOG drenched brain circuits. Onstage was a surprisingly competent metal all-cover band. You can probably picture the stuff they played; Tool, Pantera, you know. Each of the members was switching off vocals, but none of them was a particularly noteworthy singer. They hit every note on the solos CD-perfect, however. I was up front, singing along, trying to have some fun, and suddenly they stop. The guitarist hands me the mic and says "Come on up..."
I did a few songs, and then I guess curfew hit in this sleepy border town. They told me they needed a singer and asked if I could hang out with them the rest of the evening... I remember again that the work van was gonna pick us up to go home at 5, so I politely declined.
So that's why I try not to listen to God anymore, because he tries to make me the singer of Christian Metal Cover Bands... Or something...
If you've been sober for 5 days and you STILL look like Nikki Sixx from Motley Crue, then either:
a) You're Nikki Sixx from Motley Crue... or
b) you need to call in sick for work.
I have not been sober for 5 consecutive days since I moved to Austin, until now. I'm halfway through my sixth, and I've been awake for about 22 hours. I think, besides this flu virus, I'm getting some serious alcohol withdrawal because I can't sleep. My boyfriend says I'm coughing like one of those sickly puppies in the pet store that noone buys cause they're obviously not long for this world.
So, since I won't be going to work tonight, it's Story Time!
This story takes us back about 8 months, back when I was an inventory specialist. Basically, you hop in a van, ride to a store, and count it all up. After 6 months it requires no thought at all, just mechanical 10-key work. I've done it for years. I could hold a detailed conversation, take notes in my head, or basically do whatever I wanted with the entire non-motor part of my brain the entire shift...
The major downside was that it didn't just give you a BAD sleeping schedule, it gave you NO sleeping schedule. Some stores wanted you done before they opened, some stores after they close, some stores during business hours. You could be told to meet the van nearly any possible time of day, or you didn't work.
In this case, we were off to a three-day stay in the valley (close to the border between Texas and Mexico, for you non-Texans). As in, you're still in Texas but I wouldn't drink the water if I were you. As in early morning trips in "borrowed" company vans to pick up phony prescriptions and smuggle back Valium and Ketamine.
But that was another, much more fun work trip. This one I was stuck with a massively overweight guy in my hotel room that snored. Bad. I spent the first night huddled under the bathroom sink, both pillows tied around the back of my head with a belt, and I could still hear him. I eventually slept that way, which was the cause for jokes the next day.
The next night I figured: no holds barred, this called for booze. Except there was no liquor store, so I could only pick convenience-store stuff. I figured fuck the beer, a bottle of MAD DOG will sing me to sleep. Only problem is, when I drink a whole bottle of MAD DOG, I begin to talk to God... (MAD DOG spelled backwards is GODDAM, after all).
As I'm walking back to the hotel from the convenience store, I give a passing spanger $5 dolars because I'm in a good mood, and he says "Praise God!" Then he says, "You know what kind of person you look like? You look like the kind of people I see over at the pizzeria down the street. Seems like a cool hangout for guys like you. You should go..." I wondered a bit about this Pizza Place, but knew I had to be up at 5am to get in the van, so I just filed it away.
Now maybe the rest of this can be attributed to the fact that I had had 3 hours of sleep the night before, but it was still really strange... The only thing on at the time was "Bruce Almighty", and I wound up watching it by myself, which intensified the MAD DOG God trip. Then immediately afterwards my roommate comes in and commences snoring, without allowing time for the booze to fully blossom and knock me out.
So there I was, drunk out of my mind but unable to sleep with the MAD DOG singing to me, "God wants you to check out that pizza place..." So I figure what the hell.
I find the pizza place, and it's totally empty. I almost give up and walk back, but then I decide a slice of pizza would probably do me good. I ask the owner where everybody is, and he points down a hallway that I would have assumed was employees only, being all wrecked chairs and upended pool tables. But then I heard music at the other end. My MAD DOG drenched mind was not prepared for what I saw...
I experienced my first Christian Heavy Metal Club that night. It was a huge warehouse, and the walls were swirls of angels whooping ass on demons all rendered in this combination of Mexican-Mayan traditional style and more Hispanic-tattoo style. There were bible quotes (all in Spanish) rendered in flaming letters. All this color and religion was just lighting up my MAD DOG drenched brain circuits. Onstage was a surprisingly competent metal all-cover band. You can probably picture the stuff they played; Tool, Pantera, you know. Each of the members was switching off vocals, but none of them was a particularly noteworthy singer. They hit every note on the solos CD-perfect, however. I was up front, singing along, trying to have some fun, and suddenly they stop. The guitarist hands me the mic and says "Come on up..."
I did a few songs, and then I guess curfew hit in this sleepy border town. They told me they needed a singer and asked if I could hang out with them the rest of the evening... I remember again that the work van was gonna pick us up to go home at 5, so I politely declined.
So that's why I try not to listen to God anymore, because he tries to make me the singer of Christian Metal Cover Bands... Or something...
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