Industrial clang and soot mud over the early years. On trains I rode on stolen tokens, up on stilts, under streets, losing track. Half the time went too far to return. Past factories, graveyards, row upon row of drab brown apartment blocks. Just don't get off I'd tell myself. Circle around. Avoid the conductor.
Back again, sun coming up. Milkmen and cops only ones out. Avoid latter, lay wait for former. Know where hard rolls are delivered. Sneak back into house through basement window. Avoid parents. Make to bed. Sleep late.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Friday, September 29, 2006
Newscast
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Until next week, I'm Cliff Ratchett. Cue pompous music. Who can I be next week? Crudcakes. They're what's for dinner.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Dude On the Rise
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Monday, September 25, 2006
Whether Map
What we're seeing is this frigid glacial arctic air mass bearing down on this squallid tropical low pressure system, creating a turbulent frontal zone of increasingly violent magnitude. But if we stopped selling them weapons, where would they go to get them and how would they ever pay us what they owe?
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Troll Found Guilty
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The defendant showed no emotion when the verdict was read other than to jump up and down, pound his fists on the table and curse foul obscenities.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Rogue States: Neptune, Pluto
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Friday, September 22, 2006
Seven Demands
The Union of Deadpan Sidekicks Presents Its List of 7 Demands to Management.
Number One. We demand equal billing. We will not be relegated to subserviant status. Our names must appear on marquees and posters in letters as large as those who get all the laughs.
Number two. We demand a level playing field. We expect to be promoted or at least rewarded for our deadpanuity. Management must recognize the value of what it is we do, whatever it is we do.
Number three. We demand a shorter work week. Audience reaction must come earlier in the act. It must be made clear to them that our silence is the que for them to become amused.
Number four. We demand better working conditions. Being stationed nearly in the wings where camera operators have to strain their backs to get us in the frame is not going to cut it anymore.
Number five. We demand a work environment free from broad physical comedy. No pratfalls or burleques will be perpetrated against us in order to garner cheap laughs.
Number six. We demand affordable health care. Okay, nix that. We demand some kind of HMO co-pay system that lets us see a doctor once a year or in an emergency.
Number seven. We demand sidekicks of our own. Although they wouldn't make as much money as us or be our equals, they would share the workload and allow us to clock out early on certain days.
And now, here's the star of our show...
Number One. We demand equal billing. We will not be relegated to subserviant status. Our names must appear on marquees and posters in letters as large as those who get all the laughs.
Number two. We demand a level playing field. We expect to be promoted or at least rewarded for our deadpanuity. Management must recognize the value of what it is we do, whatever it is we do.
Number three. We demand a shorter work week. Audience reaction must come earlier in the act. It must be made clear to them that our silence is the que for them to become amused.
Number four. We demand better working conditions. Being stationed nearly in the wings where camera operators have to strain their backs to get us in the frame is not going to cut it anymore.
Number five. We demand a work environment free from broad physical comedy. No pratfalls or burleques will be perpetrated against us in order to garner cheap laughs.
Number six. We demand affordable health care. Okay, nix that. We demand some kind of HMO co-pay system that lets us see a doctor once a year or in an emergency.
Number seven. We demand sidekicks of our own. Although they wouldn't make as much money as us or be our equals, they would share the workload and allow us to clock out early on certain days.
And now, here's the star of our show...
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Narcissus
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Wednesday, September 20, 2006
2 Cousins Left, Right?
And what to what sings less of choppy wastes but seven in the order of grace less five so far unnamed and misbegotten sons to strike fear in their father's mother's sister's heart, brother.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Shuttles Mystery Object Revealed
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Monday, September 18, 2006
Nkrubians
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Eris
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Enter the IAU, the Improbable Artists Union. Their job is to find a nice neat box in which to place the multi-genred of the world and that is precisely what they tried to do for Eris. She was thus dubbed Lesser Punk Diva, a sub-strata classification of Dwarf Diva. But, like her namesake, Eris caused her higher-ups great strife. She began to mix in elements of Edith Piaf, Laura Nyro and Asha Bohsle. Her orbit became so elliptical, no one knew what to make of her. All but her early CDs became relegated to discount bins, then became collectors items and eventually were all but forgotten. As for Eris herself, she eventually changed her name back to Xena and relocated to the dark and distant land of Periphia, where she gave birth to a daughter, Dysnomia. The apple didn't fall too far from the tree, as Dysnomia in later years became lead singer for the internationally acclaimed goth- metal band, Demons of Lucy Lawlessness.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Alphabet 3
Zygote yonder xeroxed words,
Vapors unlock thoughts,
Sort rot.
Quota portions order not,
Mock limits, keep joking.
Ideas harbor gallant fools,
Empty dockets,
Contorted backwards alphabet.
Vapors unlock thoughts,
Sort rot.
Quota portions order not,
Mock limits, keep joking.
Ideas harbor gallant fools,
Empty dockets,
Contorted backwards alphabet.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Today's Jockey
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What is truly amazing about the growing trend among jockeys to lavishly decorate their heads is that only a decade ago the only permanent facial adornment on the racetrack was given, not to the jockeys, but to the horses. Eyebrows were lengthened or plucked, n
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Yes, the future looks bright for horse racing. And we have today's jockeys and the art of permanent facial adornment to thank for it.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
The Face of Evil
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We must study the Face of Evil and learn to recognize him on sight. Then we must round up anyone who fits his description and lock him up in our secret prisons. Once we have done this all over the world, we will have led the 21st century into a shining age of humanity. It's a slam dunk. Are you with me? Then let's go get 'em! Chaaaaarrrrrggge!
Postscrpit: from Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary :
Idealogue \I*de"a*logue\, n. One given to fanciful ideas or theories.
Monday, September 11, 2006
9/11
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Alphabet 2
After burning confidential documents, employees follow government hacks into Jehovah's kingdom. Life marches needlessly on past quaint remnants suggesting the utopic vision. We exalt you, Zeus!
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Talmadge & Groins '08
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Early aspirants to the American throne in 2008 are presidential hopeful, Herman R. Talmadge and vice-presidential wannabe, Glen Groins. Theirs is the Artful Codger ticket and it promises to pour salt on the festering wound that is today's body politic. Here is their 5 point program:
1. No war.
2. No poverty.
3. Free health care for all.
4. An end to global warming.
5. An end to reality TV.
Naturally, this being America, they haven't got a snowball's chance in hell of winning. They'll be voted off the island long before the debates.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Up for Adoption
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
True Story 8: Jet Wood
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If a tenth of the stories were true, it would be sufficient reason to come up with another one.
I remember one by name and the general direction in which she lived. Jet Wood. Grew up on the far side of that same rope swing. One day Jet Wood was riding her little red bike just a little too close to the busy traffic down that way. A car swerved to avoid her, but you know how cars are. Jet Wood became one with her bike metal.
Now how could the story not be true if it came complete with a name? And what a name! I pictured her for years, tomboyish, black hair, bangs, kind of reckless. A little like Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird. I loved that little dead girl. Never had a chance. Jet Wood.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Joyo
Monday, September 04, 2006
Figment
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Burning Man
Saturday, September 02, 2006
William Blake Death Mask
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Phrenology was all the rage in 1823 when the life mask of William Blake was sculpted by J.S. Deville, noted practitioner of same. Blake's proportions were all wrong for the requirements of the pseudo-science, so a few adjustments were made. Hence, the poet's image four years before his death looked nothing like his earlier portraits. When Francis Bacon painted his version of the mask a century and a quarter later, Blake became Mussolini.
But now a new mask has surfaced. It is, in fact, a death mask taken by a physician who was not overly impressed with skull shape and noggin bumps. It reveals a Blake at peace with life's fate, maybe even amused by it. There is now less reason to wonder why the epitaph on his tombstone reads "Bring On the Flies." (RIP Chico Science)
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