Wednesday, February 28, 2007


From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

This article has been challenged as being a complete and utter fabrication. It's authenticity, therefore, cannot be verified.

Feralines (Felis Silvestris) are the result of the union between domestic felines and bobcats. They are native to North America and can be found anywhere cats, bob or otherwise, congregate. Living on chipmunks, field mice and an occasional shrew, they would prefer canned Friskies, so long as it's not the shredded Chicken and Tuna variety.

Prized for their ugly pelts, feralines were nearly hunted to extinction in the late 19th century. Fortunately, cumberbuns soon went out of style and the cats made a return. Unaware of fashion trends, Teddy Roosevelt once boasted of killing 117 feralines in a single day, but he might have been drunk. When he boasted of it, not when he shot them. Although he may have been drunk when he shot them, too. Teddy liked his whiskey.

Feralines are said to bring bad luck on windy Tuesdays. One who sees one on such a day should make the sign of the cross, hold one's breath for twenty seconds and hop on one foot (the left) in the opposite direction. And don't look back. You might fall down.

Monday, February 26, 2007

Djinn 4: Marid

All day and no fourth djinn. The Sybyl had told me the last could be posing as anything from a horse to a dolphin, but by 10 pm I hadn't seen so much as a squirrel.
I was about to turn in when he stepped out of the shower. A waterlogged marid, if ever I'd seen one, which I hadn't. All I knew of them I leaned from Jacques Cousteau; that they often take the form of waterspouts and typhoons and are the bane of sailors, of which I am not one, nosir, no man has lubbed more land than me. I guess he was simply filling his itinerary, since earth, air and fire had come before him. He stood there dripping, waiting for something.
I suppose if I worked hard at it, connived and cajoled and verbally jousted with the marid, I could have conceivably won him over and scored a wish or two. But you know? I was fresh out of wishes and tired as hell. I flushed the commode and he was gone.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Djinn 3: Ifrit

I'm getting a little tired of these damned djinns coming around. Today's was an ifrit, and in case you don't know, ifrits are about the most obnoxious djinns you'll ever meet. You always smell one before you see it. It's the smoke. It burns your eyes and makes you cough raspy hacks. The temperature rises dramatically and you break into a sweat. Did I mention they're made of fire?

Like all djinns, this one was pissed to be in the presence of a human being. See, they're powerless to escape once they arrive. We hold no sway over ifrits, but they don't know that. They assume they're caught and are being forced to grant wishes and perform chores. This one was doing my laundry while muttering foul obscenities about my mother. I hated to see my shirts go up in flames, so I donned an asbestos suit and locked it in a half-nelson. In this way I finally convinced it to search for greener pastures elsewhere, which it did after relieving me of all my household flammables. After it was gone I thought up a good half a dozen wishes I could have laid on it, but what the hell, chief among them would have been to wish him gone and I got that regardless. I think I need a dog. A big, mean dog.

Saturday, February 24, 2007

Djinn 2: Ghul

The prophet spake do not linger where the djinns reside or you will risk drawing their ire. Avoid public places, especially graveyards. Archaeological digs are off limits. And stay out of the deserts.
Here's the djinn what that visited today. It came borne on desert winds. It's a ghul and it feeds on the dead. Being alive myself, relatively speaking, it passed me by, but gave me a look that seemed to say just wait. Then it shape-shifted into a jackal, as ghuls are wont to do, and made for the cemetery. I went back to my tax forms.

Friday, February 23, 2007

Djinn 1: Sila/Golem

The first djinn to drop by called itself a sila, but it was plain to see it was in actuality the golem I'd been expecting. Made entirely of mud, it displayed ill intent from the start. First it tried to lure me into the yawning hollow void of the grave it dug of itself. But a sila, if it was a sila, cannot change its shape, so it fooled me nary a whit nor an iota. Nay, of it I clearly steered. Then, it made like a mountain and loomed large before me, threatening avalanche. But a golem, if it was a golem, cannot harm its master, which I had become by proxy, and so I feared it not. Eventually it grew weary of devising its nefarious plans and gave up. It simple eroded away. I was so elated, I rewarded myself with a pretzel.

Thursday, February 22, 2007


On a lark I visited a sibyl on my lunch hour today. (For some time I had been carrying around her phone number in my wallet.) Not one to read tarot cards or palms or tea leaves, she chose instead to read my thoughts. I was not comfortable with the notion, having, as I do, thoughts I prefer to keep to myself. She overcame my resistance soon enough and mulled over what she discovered. I must say, it tickled a bit. To my surprise, she told me no fortune, only that I'd be visited by four djinns in as many days. That was it. Twenty bucks. I felt kind of cheated, but then I thought, well, that's only five bucks per djinn. It could have been worse. "Damned right," she said.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Red Inc.

Push stark fanshares by rote, have clerks adjust figures accordingly, what's left game policies for once no debit no cost nothing left to account for not less than gain immeasurable gain credit loss.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

My Gym Teacher

This is my ninth grade gym teacher. I can't remember his name, but I do remember he was a lowlife scumsucker. He told me broken collarbone or no, I was going to wrestle. He told me what I could do with that note from my doctor.
Well, I didn't wrestle, so I failed P.E. What a prick.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Coming Soon

"Golly, Junie Sue, I'll bet we could put on a show right here in the church basement!" exclaimed Robot Billy, his diodes sputtering.
Junie Sue looked dubious. "There has got to be something seriously askew in that so-called brain of yours. I'll not have my name sullied."
"What do you mean?"
"You expect me to play a church social? I was in summer stock last year!"
"But. looky here, Junie Sue! Track lighting! Lots of it! I'll bet we could keep some where they are for spots and move some down here for footlights!"
Junie Sue scowled, a little less dubiously. "There's no stage and there's no curtain."
"I've already calculated the factors! We can attain all the square footage we would need for the stage from the lumber your Dad has stored in the barn. And Sam Drucker has all those burlap sacks taking up space in the back room of his store. I'm sure there's enough to sew together for a curtain!"
One of Junie Sue's eyebrows twitched upwards. Robot Billy took that as a positive sign. "And the carport outside looks just like a marquee!"
"If," stated Junie Sue emphatically, "and that's a big if, but if I agreed to participate in the fiasco you describe, you do realize I'd have to demand top billing and seventy five percent of the take."
"You bet, Junie Sue! Let's do it! Let's put on a show!"

Sunday, February 18, 2007


Homnculi are hybrid little crittermen. They are concocted in hot manure from hair and skin and bone to which semen is added. One must do all this by the proper moon, and to be effective, the stars should also be favorable. They are only useful to a degree, for they'll turn on you the moment you let your guard down. The trick is to keep them occupied by giving them small tasks, one at a time.

Related to the homunculus is the golem. The golem is also human, part other and constructed. No living by-products or residuals are needed to make one - only mud. I haven't found one of these to show you yet, but rest assured I shall. Even if I have to make one myself.

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Alphabet 4

Another bad choice darkens everyone's future. Given history's incredibly jumbled keyring, locks make nasty obsessions. Presidential quicksand really sucks. Tomorrow's unachievable victory would exhibit, yes, zaniness.

Friday, February 16, 2007

Bo Peep

Now where the hell did those damn sheep go? They were here just a minute ago. All I did was lean against a tree and rest my eyes for a spell. Is that a crime? Hey. Maybe a crime is what occurred here. My daddy warned me about sheepnappers.
Or was that shepherds napping?
Ohhh, it's all so confusing.

Still, what's done is done. No sense crying over spilt milk.
It doesn't help to close the barn door after the horse is gone. Or the sheep, either. And don't suggest I go after them. I know those sheep. They're spoiled rotten. Very demanding. They require a perfect 33/67 clover-to-grass ratio. Precisely the mix on this very hillside. My guess is they'll be back by morning, dragging their little tails behind them.
Now, I think I'll go lie down for a while.

Thursday, February 15, 2007


This is Firouz Nashkahamzar, the keeper of the potentate's spiders.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007


Mythic neolithic lovers locked in internal embrace. Their honeymoon over, their cover blown, they are destined from here on for museum love, like zoo love for the dead, on display, visited by similarly afflicted pairs of hominids-with-skin mooning for each other. That they form a heart and were unearthed just shy of Valentines. That they'll stand for love over death, a gauzy transcendence. That they'll never know the peace again of being alone with each other in the soil. It's all that.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Ed and Clarice

Ed and Clarice brought by leftovers last night. Odd, it being past midnight. We all sat around the kitchen table gorging and wolfing Tuesday's through Sunday's menus. I have no idea whatsoever what all we ate.

Monday, February 12, 2007

One Year of Hits and Misses

Happy Birthday to Me.
Hidden Missives is one year old today.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Philmont Oblong and Placid

Philmont Oblong, bless his soul, was a pioneer in the early research of mind altering substances. A chemistry major at UCLA, he dropped out and dropped acid with Timothy Leary in 1963 and later joined up with Kesey's Merry Pranksters. All the while, he maintained his interest in chemistry and conducted experiments that have since become legendary.

In 1966, Oblong was able to synthesize a compound that combined LSD-25, methaqualone and soma. The concoction was administered as a liquid to various groups of people, including the Pranksters, and most who drank it experienced euphoric visions, heightened dream states, and pronounced feelings of peace and contentment. The most unusual effect of 'placid' (the name it was given) was its ability to induce shared dreams among those administered the drug at the same time.

One 'placid-in' held in Palo Alto in September of 1967 marked the turning point for the drug and for Oblong. Approximately 40 individuals drank a potent batch of placid and quickly fell under its spell. A mass dream orgy ensued. While thus engaged, the autumnal equinox came and went, putting an end to the Summer of Love. Coitus interuptus awoke the group and they began bickering with one another in regards their chosen dream-sex partners. Knives were produced, blood was spilled; it was a bad trip.

When word got around, placid was shunned. Philmont Oblong, dejected, soon became addicted to Screaming Yellow Zonkers and in March of 1969 died from a massive overdose. He was 27.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

iProbe Released

A handheld brain scanner that doubles as a camera phone, e-mailer and mp3 player has become the latest product to conceivably blow the iPhone to Kingdom Come. Dubbed the iProbe, the diminutive device was exhibited for the first time today in Zurich, Switzerland to an anxious crowd of reporters, techies and CIA types.

Dr. Pepto Schmaltz, famed neurologist and CEO of Acme Brain Reading Technologies Inc., explained how recent breakthroughs in the science of brain scanning have made it possible for anyone and everyone to know what everyone else is thinking at any given time.

"Think of it. Who among us doesn't yearn to know what thoughts our bosses or our spouses or our children are having? Why, the ramifications are staggering."

Schmaltz went on at length to describe a world where TVs switch channels, not by remote control, but by thought. A world where data enters computers in sentences thought, not letters typed. A world where criminals can be arrested before they commit their crimes.

Dr. Schmaltz even speculated how future upgrades to the iProbe will contain phones that automatically connect to the person the caller envisions. Indeed, the phone and e-mail functions may soon become entirely outmoded, as the caller will be able to send his own probed brain signals directly to the one called, just so long as the second party has a device of his own to receive them.

Friday, February 09, 2007

Zombie Cretin 2

The zombie cretin returns.
That's the thing about zombies - they keep coming back. Dismembered, they re-assemble. Haphazardly, to be sure, but anatomically correct enough to shamble about and prove a nuisance.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Morgue Arrival D

Quadri-orbibtal female subject recovered from hazardous waste facility. Observed to have third and fourth degree burns covering entire body, but not exactly correct. They are fifth degree burns, a degree beyond our textbook knowledge. Rudiments of 5D burnage learned from Dr. Ignatius Frazzle, who arrived shortly after subject. Fifth degree burns, it seems, occur rarely in nature but when they do, they are always accompanied by high radiation levels. Dr. Frazzle's staff measured significant contamination and immediately took possession of subject. Morgue attendants queasy all day, considering class action suit, but against who? Inadequate google results for Ignatius Frazzle.

Monday, February 05, 2007

Aleister Crowley

"To read a newspaper is to refrain from reading something worthwhile. The first discipline of education must therefore be to refuse resolutely to feed the mind with canned chatter."

Sunday, February 04, 2007


You take us to task when
For sovereignty you ask but
We're willing to meet you halfway.
We've made the decision to
Appoint a commission and
Study it all starting today.

Saturday, February 03, 2007

Friday, February 02, 2007

Lite Brite Mooninites Banned

Homeland Security has issued new restrictions on the possession and trafficking of Lite Brite Mooninites. It is an attempt to curb terrorist guerrilla marketing, an alarming new trend sweeping the nation and causing panic in the streets or at least police stations across America.

Secretary of Homeland Security, Michael Chertoff and Boston Police Chief Gunther Toody announced the new laws, effective immediately, at a packed press conference in Washington D.C. earlier today.

"It is not our intention to deprive our children of an innocent play toy," said Chertoff. "But we live in a post 9/11 world, and al Qaeda has long arms. Long enough, it seems, to reach in and grab a stranglehold on Madison Avenue. And so we must act."

Under the new restrictions, it is now a Class B felony to possess or transport a Lite Brite toy with an image on it depicting a Mooninite. To place such a toy in a public place is a Class A felony. Also banned are images depicting milk shakes, french fries and meatballs. Also, any and all cartoon characters deemed terrorist related, such as Yosemite Sam, Wile E. Coyote and Daffy Duck. A full list can be found on the Homeland Security website.

"Boston's infrastructure was laid low recently," said Toody. "We want every American to rest assured they will not be subjected to the same brand of terror that we were."

Thursday, February 01, 2007

The Naiads

That Naiad couple, Phil and Gwen, were too much last night. They came festooned in watercress and duckweed, like it was some kind of formal affair. Talk about putting on airs. Completely ignored us nymphs. We're salinated, don't you know. They just went on and on about their brooks and their ponds and their fens and their fountains and their marshes and their waterfalls. Honestly! Don't they know this is an estuary? At least we don't dry up here.