Gee, even Scientific American has a political slant: Chapter Who Knew

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I love peace.  But when I get bored with peace, I want war.

Call it the Yin/Yang of a reformed DINK.

So, couch surfer that I am at times, when taking a break between running a secret society and verifying the output of a supercomputer, I check the status of world affairs by reading the political bias of so-called neutral websites.

I’ll let Scientific American speak for itself here.

Once again, thanks to Naomi and Paul for inspiring the Committee to start the engine of the Worldwide Shock Doctrine, one great way to rid the economy of leeches, cheats and hoarders (they know who they are).

I love Salon for telling me what I already know…: Chapter of Little Convincing

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Some gamblers have placed a bet that the Committee handpicked Rick Perry to win the 2012 election.

The folks at Salon, who are savvy about the way voters turn when times get bad, have waffled between picking Bachmann or Perry for U.S. President in 2012.

It’s all a matter of which likely voters are convinced to go to the polls.

We’ll keep you informed of how we’re convincing* “the people” to select the political candidate who will lead the U.S. to greatness again.

Anyone want to wager on a Perry/Bachmann ticket?

 

*HINT: It starts with manipulating the economy and then causing riots in the right demographic neighbourhoods, but of course you already knew that.  It’s time for me to stock up on canned goods before it gets real ugly out there in the marketplace of ideas.

The Clash and Clockwork Orange: Chapter Punk’d

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Can’t help but remember my skinhead days in Knoxville…

Brass knuckles…

Skateboards…

Graffiti…

Throwing beer cans at bums rummaging through dumpsters…

Punk music…

Handcarved tattoos…

Gang fights in downtown alleyways before and after the ’82 World’s Fair…

…these are tough times, getting tougher…

…the Committee is reading the minds of American riot police, looking for the one who’s on the edge, liable to shoot a young person in a U.S. city under siege by protestors – get inside their thoughts, ignite their rage (could be any ol’ thing, such as a weak marriage, borderline job performance, or anger management problems in general) and watch chaos ensue…

I was too young for the glory days of the ’60s – Woodstock, Kent State and the like.

Time for something completely different…and yet so much more ultraviolence than “London Calling” …

…sigh…if only I was in better shape physically…

Otherwise, I’d join the gents in livin’ out “The Guns of Brixton.”

William Howard Taft or Herbert Hoover?

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Today, the Semi-U.S. accepted the offer to locate the alternate U.S. headquarters on Ted Turner’s property.

In recognition, the Semi-U.S. named the capitol Turnerville, Inc.

Although, at press release, there’s some evidence that, because of CNN’s perceived liberal bias, the Semi-U.S. may accept an offer from John Malone to establish the capitol on his property.

Neither Fox News nor the Murdoch family would not comment on this rumour.

However, rumour has it they started the rumour themselves, as well as triggered the London riots, to divert attention, Citizen Kane style, from Rupert’s and James’ media headline miasma.

Meanwhile, world stock markets begged Geithner to quit and Obama to quit talking.  Jesse Jackson has questioned his support of a man who’s not holy or wholly white.

Thanks, Mr. S&P, for showing your true loyalty

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I want to spread our DNA-based lifeforms into the cosmos, however we can, but have to deal with the person most responsible for the London riots, Deven Sharma and his gang of thugs.

S&P is an idiot association.

They should be are financially responsible for rebuilding the UK after the riots, but not with Indians, who must return to their home country immediately and keep building their geek nation instead of bad hotel service and lowgrade convenience stores over here, or face a “downgrade” of another sort, eh?

Let’s put an insane person in the White House.  Sanity and reasonableness obviously are not working.

And to the secular world out there, Christianity is not overrated, just misused and abused.

And quit talking about capitalism – it’s dead.

Ode to Neil Simon: Chapter of Pretentious Literature

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At The Theatre: Apartment Drama Workshop

[ACT I]
[SCENE I: Introduction]
Like the chorus in a Greek play:
“Morning, Lisa!”
“Hi, Rick!”

We dance the steps written for
“The Neighbors,”
[ENTER cameo of Cheshire-cat smile of Neil Simon]
A musical produced off-off Broadway –
Off Walker Springs –
Where never fails a friendship forms,
A bond right out of Time.

[SCENE II: Getting to Know You]
Although the songs we sing
Seem ever quite forgettable,
Let’s bow and curtsy quite politely –
Never mixing queers with politicians,
Or quietly fraternizing with police,
Or quickly breaking apartment policies –
While always minding our Ps and Qs.

[SCENE III: A Ripple in the Pond]
As soon as we get comfortable
With the bangs and bumps we hear next door,
Our comfy zone gets broken
By my movement to another stage
Where plays the great and ancient show,
“The Taming of the Shrew.”

[INTERMISSION]

[SCENE IV: Where One Door Closes…]
[ENTER moving van]
Don’t despair (I see that tear
Brought on by spring-born pollen
And the dust from broken highways)
For “The Neighbors” has at least
Two Acts,
And the actors next to enter have their polished smiles
To hand to you like business cards.

Your men, forever ocean waves,
Change in strength, in length and tone,
And while you walk that lonely beach
Don’t begin to count the sand
But listen to this shell’s sweet sound.

[SCENE V: The Finale to Act I]
Before I go, I thank you kindly,
Although you never had to mind me,
For passing my dear’s résumé
Among your colleagues’ commerce sway.

Although the smiles we shared were few,
I must, with these words, bid adieu.

New Dimensions Cutout Story/Interview

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The Hidden Mystery of the American in England: A Cutout

MICHAEL TOMS: Father Bede, in the Middle East we have three of the major religious traditions fighting one another tooth and nail.  What about that?  How are we going to solve this dilemma?

In time, Mayr would learn of the Sierra’s troubled past and witness a violent and destructive era scarring the region’s people and forests.  And he would eventually arrive at the present, with the Sierra Nevada on the brink of cultural and ecological disaster, but now with a plan to salvage its future – a plan that has recently earned Mayr The Nature Conservancy’s Dunning Prize for conservation work in Latin America.

“The aim of humanity is to go through the gross to the subtle, and then to the final fullness of the one reality.  That is our goal.”

Blooms is located in Norfolk, a farming region where bicycles are the preferred mode of transportation.  I, too, pedaled to work each day on the narrow winding road bordered by fields of perennials, rows of greenhouses, and great blocks of container-grown plants.  Although I took pride in arriving at work on time, by seven many of the workers were already in the fields weeding and harvesting.  On rainy mornings, attired in company-issue yellow raingear, they looked like slow-moving bees buzzing amid a rich, living tapestry.

But I believe that this kind of dualism is a stage we have to go through.  You have to make these distinctions, and then you have to go beyond them.  And this occurs in every tradition.  In Islam, you have the Sufis, who go right beyond the dualism.  In Judaism you have the Kabbala, which is a mystical tradition.  So the mystical tradition in each religion transcends the dualism and discovers the one reality which is not one and not two; it’s a mystery beyond human reason.  That is the point.  Your reason cannot grasp it.  You’ve got to allow it to reveal itself to you.

Guiral’s decree was prophetic.  After torching the crops and sacking the last of the Tairona villages, the Conquistadors withdrew.  The jumgle grew back over the abandoned terraces, so that almost no memory was left of the Tairona.

In addition to weeding, I did some pruning and transplanting.  I also spent time grubbing out the stumps of large trees with an ax and a spade, trees that had been killed by the combination of hurricane and floods that devastated many English parks and gardens the previous autumn.  After this task my clothing would be green with the slimy moss that covers branches and trunks thanks to England’s continual dampness.

Hinduism and Buddhism are opposites, in a sense, but at heart they’re one.

And they took birth in the same country; they were both born in India.

And, Finally…: Chapter of Finality…or Infinity

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And historians will debate whether the Bushes were more puppets of Middle East oil sheiks than the Obama administrative staff members – Geithner, etc. – were puppets of China.

Long live the corporate era.

Where’s a good, interesting technology storyline to keep this ol’ boy occupied?  The economic and political news is boringly easy to predict.

=     ==   ===  ====  ===   ==     =

Waiting for the Virtual Birth

Getting ready to leave St. Charles.
We’ve “played” with our nephew Nicholas,
Meaning keeping him occupied so he won’t cry.
Yesterday, Janeil and I went back to Chicago
To see the exhibits at the SIGGRAPH computer graphics
conference —
We saw a couple of dozen virtual reality displays
Where people could put on goggles and gloves
Electronically controlled to give the wearer
The sense of being in another world.

– 31 July 1992
=     ==   ===  ====  ===   ==     =

Unexpected News

Every day is an adventure and…
(But what is a day?
A day is the collection of experiences
Between two long sleeping periods.)
Today’s adventure was once again exciting.
Around 8:30, Janeil answered the phone
And heard the disturbing news from her parents
That her aunt, Irene, had died yesterday.
Irene had a heart attack not too long ago
And spent a few days in the hospital.
She had returned home.
Janeil’s parents called Irene earlier yesterday
(Or the day before)
And got no answer.
Irene’s granddaughter Kathy drove to Irene’s house yesterday
And as the news was reported to me,
Kathy said, “She was dead. Cold.”
The crocus bulbs are blooming
And one daffodil has opened up.
The dwarf crested iris (hybridized) are blooming,
And so are the pachysandra.

– 20 February 1994

=     ==   ===  ====  ===   ==     =

Fortes Fortuna Juvat

To be
[Empty of all but the desire
To survive in a middle-class lifestyle]
Or not to be?
I already solved the puzzle of “to be or not to be” —
I know I want to live,
But living in which environment?
Today I am full of questions to which
I do not want answers.
Too many opinions of others
Wait in my head to give me answers.
I do not want to choose their answers.
I want my own
But do not have the strength
To provide my own answers.
Therefore, I lay in squalor.
Instead, I will concentrate
On providing input to my company
Since I already feel I am making
No other contribution to life.
That says something right there, doesn’t it?

– 12 August 1993

=     ==   ===  ====  ===   ==     =

Vacations Are Like Perfume Bottles

Sitting in the Village Vanguard,
An underground jazz club;
I sit listening to the Billy Childs Trio,
A classic trio jazz group,
And I think back to the past few days in NYC.
I remember the smell of horse manure in Central Park,
Disinfectant in a subway station
And body odor
And musk incense while crossing a street near Times Square.
Not a lot of street people around…
They must be on holiday in the suburbs.
In fact, all the people here seem to be tourists
(It takes one to know one!).
Last night,
while we were standing on the 86th floor
Of the Empire State Building,
I was busily trying to figure out
Which buildings were which
When I suddenly realized,
“Hey! I’m in New York City,
Not some classroom on identifying the landmarks of NYC.
Enjoy the moment for what it is.
Don’t compartmentalize it.”
So here we are in Greenwich Village
Trying to capture the essence of the place.
Something about the chords in this song
Make me feel melancholy.

– 5 September 1993

=     ==   ===  ====  ===   ==     =

Chicago-bound

Just stepped on the 2:05 Metra train in St. Charles
(Anne dropped me off with seconds to spare),
On my way to Chicago to meet Janeil.
Rolling through little unknown communities,
Finally stopping at West Chicago depot.
The rolling of the train on the tracks reminds me
I haven’t fully recovered from the drinking spree
That Kevin and I enjoyed last night.
We started after dinner with our wives.
I drank two half-yards at a place called Scotland Yard,
Then had one beer at some blue-collar dive
Where patrons played/gambled on a game
Using five dice thrown on the bar counter
[We just stopped to pick up passengers in Winfield].
Then Kevin and I went to the Silverado
Where I told him to buy me a beer.
I headed to the bathroom as he called out,
“We aren’t leaving until you finish your beer.”
I get back and he’s bought us a pitcher.
We began a game of darts
[Now picking up folks in Wheaton] called cricket
(Which he wins with a bull’s-eye)
When some fellow walks up to join us.
We then play double out,
And three games of double in-double out,
The “double” meaning the dart must hit an area
On the board which counts for double points
[Now stopping at College Avenue —
Cute woman standing outside the window
And drinking flavored water].
Several people marveled at my ability to slam
The darts into the board with the accuracy
And speed of a baseball pitcher
[Now picking up folks in Glen Ellyn],
Bending tips and replacing them
Like they’re going out of style.
Kevin won three games while I and the other fellow
Won one a piece.
So this is the Midwest?
Highways, high tension wires,
Kids playing hide-n-seek in the backyard,
Golf courses under construction,
Dilapidated house smelling of history
[Just stopped in Lombard].
Kids on the train have heavy Northern accent —
Mom takes their picture — conductor says,
“They uh free cawz theyuh unduh tweluhv.”
[Villa Park]
Road construction workers stand in sun
With hands on hips and orange hardhats
Hiding their bald spots.
Clouds remember dinosaurs and laugh
At our attempt to immortalize ourselves.
Like a bad film in high school health class,
Scenes flash past the window,
Scenes full of potential car crashes, drug deals,
And sites for making love without contraception.
[Elmhurst]
Two teenagers of the female-who-adore-men persuasion
“For sure” “No way”
“I take it day-by-day; you know, college is worse,
I’ve got to find my own place.
I’m just like…you know.”
Idle gossip — boyfriends
“He went out with a friend a couple of times —
I was so-o-o-o hurt. I don’t trust anybody.
I mean, I have friends and a best friend.
I only have two friends who’ve been best friends
For years. I don’t trust anybody, I really don’t.”
[Bellwood]
One looks through her purse.
“I’ve got 50, 60, 70, 80, 90 dollars.
You’ve got to be careful when you step off the train…
One time in Miami…I mean, I’ve got two jobs…
They took everything.”
“What about your boyfriend?”
“There are so many people I hang out with.
You mean he
[Melrose Park]
Was supposedly my boyfriend. What about you?”
“Whatdya mean?”
“I go to a lot of parties.”
“Have you ever…”
“No, I’ve never puked. I’ve passed out but I’ve never puked.”
“You know how people’ve bragged.”
“Have you tried pot?”
“Yeah, once, but nothing happened.”
“Really?”
“Well. I was high for a little while. My boyfriend tried heroin,”
Shocked look from friend,
“But I didn’t try it.”
“Do you smoke yet?”
“A little bit.”
“I smoke those little thin ones, you know, Capri, and all that.”
“Whatdya
[Oak Park]
want to do when we get there?”
“I don’t know. I guess Sears Tower.”
“Yeah, and drink some beer somewhere.”
“Great. We’ll have to head back to Michigan after that.
You shouldn’t have brought all that money.”
“You never know.”
Who are these two rising sophomores?
They don’t have any obvious past experiences in common.
They continue to
[We must be in Chicago — rundown buildings run
Into each other — warehouses, factories, abandoned depots]
Discuss the difference between when to drink beer,
Mixed drinks and shots. Attend college in Florida?

Institutional public housing no different than jails
Or public schools — family living in a welfare net —
Filters out the mediocre while perpetuating mediocrity.
Media today, MTV, for instance, apparently
Promotes a California accent.

-28 July 1992
=     ==   ===  ====  ===   ==     =

Time Slows Down In A Garden

Chirping like soldiers marching down a dusty Southern road,
Frogs keep time in this quiet backwater of the Florida panhandle.
Insects make my legs look like the surface of Mars —
Red and pockmarked with bites.
I sit on the shoreline of a lake.
I sit on the edge of Eden State Gardens,
The former home of some rich person
Who left the house and gardens to the state of Florida.
They say some movie about frogs was filmed here.
Well, I was sitting underneath the shade of a live oak tree
Draped with Spanish moss
But the insects and a bit of rain
Have pushed me back into the comfort of a car.
The Eden State Ornamental Garden
Sits on the edge of the Choctawhatchee Bay.
I came here about three years ago
When my grandmother’s garden club national meeting
Convened in Sandestin.
The gardens haven’t changed all that much —
Still slightly overgrown.
– 23 July 1993

=     ==   ===  ====  ===   ==     =

Waiting To Run

-3°C, 26°F — bright, sunny morning –
I sit in my Ford Ranger waiting for
The 11th Annual Engineer Run
To begin on the Redstone Arsenal,
At Building 7120 (Redstone auditorium)
Near the former Goddard residence.
I will run in the 5K (3-mile) race.
I’m not sure why I’m doing this
Except I have been exercising nightly
And only ran 3 miles last night,
The first time since last summer.
I guess I’m also in the Olympic spirit.
Nancy Kerrigan got
The silver medal in women’s skating last night.
The Norwegians swept
The men’s combined downhill skiing yesterday.
I will let go of my fear and give Janeil
My full attention and consideration.
I mean, really, who do I love?

– 26 February 1994

=     ==   ===  ====  ===   ==     =

Two Become One

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=     ==   ===  ====  ===   ==     =

The Beginning

In the quiet world of mystery
Beats a tiny, little heart,
Replete with tiny clothes
And held in loving arms.
Quiet and little do not describe
The smile, which beams and speaks
A language all its own,
A language we’ve all heard
But forgotten in our haste
To climb out of the crib.
Soon all will see that smile;
For now, we cuddle and coo,
We treat the smile with pats
And the crying with a hug.
We encourage the smile
But must remember every emotion
Has a place and time to fill
and be felt.

— 1 September 1990

=     ==   ===  ====  ===   ==     =

True Love

We know each other well,
Perhaps too well,
For when we feel hurt
We know what to say to get the attention
To bring us back online.
Sometimes, though, we lash out
And strike.
With these words I want to stop
The doubts that drive wedges into our love:
I give to you my unconditional respect.

— 10 October 1990

=     ==   ===  ====  ===   ==     =

Two Prose Poems

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The Difference Between Writers and Schizophrenics Is…

I’m in another of my weird moods.
Therefore, I write.
Let’s see…”i before e except after c”…
Oh yeah, I misspelled weird, didn’t I? Or did I?
I can’t remember.
For the moment, I’m lost in the world of
Correct spelling without a dictionary handy.
Wait, isn’t there a dictionary beneath the tabletop?
Hmm…didn’t I bring Mom’s dictionary from upstairs
And put it in this room?
Apparently not. Oh well.
I guess I’ll have to go on, taking the chance that I’ll misspell
a word or two.
(Will the god of correct spelling ever let this go by?
Who knows? And really, who cares? Anyway…)
I’ve been having headaches lately and I can’t figure the reason.
I’ve been having problems lately. What else is new
And who cares because life goes on with or without me
(Hey wow, isn’t that a heavy piece of reality?).
At times like this one (time is a thing, isn’t it?),
I am a radio that has a constantly changing — that is,
moving in a random direction — tuning dial.
Lots of bullshit in your brain does not make you a smart
or intellectual person.
Then what does?
Well, what is intellectual?
What is an intellectual?
What is anything?
“Shut up.”
What.
“I said shut up.”
Please, not again. Leave me alone.
“Why?”
Why anything?
“Why anything?”
Okay, everybody meet the mirror of my mind.
“Okay, everybody meet the mirror of my mind.”
Well, so he/she/it is not a perfect mirror.
“What’s he talking about?”
Shut up.
“Okay.”
I’m here again to torture myself and you (of course)
with the trivial thoughts of moi.
“Moi.”
Vous.
“Non, tu.”
Look at me, a complete idiot. No, not complete, just here,
here recording these words.
“Recording these words…”
Recording these words for no one in particular.

The storm raged for days,
Taking its frustrations out on the little guy
and his new bass boat.
“What does this storm want from me?” the little guy asked.
“I’m just a little guy.”
“But you bought a bass boat and don’t know anything
about bass fishing,” the storm shouted,
Throwing water into the guy’s boat.
“But I want to learn.”
“Did you buy a car before you knew how to drive?”
“But…”
“Yeah, start hedging the issue now before you drown. I like
to hear little guys like you spew out your drivel. You prove you’re just a little guy.”
“So what? Why can’t I just be a little guy who doesn’t
know about bass fishing? You don’t know everything
yourself.”
“I know. However, I’m in command here, aren’t I?”
“Everybody is in command, I hope.”
“Yes, and I want to drown you.”
“Why? Why me?”
[Here comes the line you’ve been waiting for—]
“Why not?”

Tyrants and fools, don’t they have something in common?
“Yes, I believe they do. As a matter of fact, I think the
answer is you.”
You would. Hahaha. Get it? You would.
“Laughter is good medicine.”
Oh, leave me alone.
You see, I want to be with you right now,
You who do not exist on this physical level,
You who knows me,
You who is me,
You who breathes in my dreams.
I…I feel alone with you now.
Now…
Now..
Now.
The [my] internal/external song keeps on playing
And I want to share it with everyone I meet
But I am not normal…
“Who is?”
Yes, I know.
“Then why stop to question your ability? Why waste time
recording what I say to you? Why don’t you go on and
write a goddam story?”
There you go using profane language again.
“I know, you don’t like the word ‘story’, do you?”
I don’t like a lot of things.
“Do you hate your mother?”
I especially don’t like you playing psychoanalyst with me.
“I was just having fun.”
He was just having fun, he says, Don’t forget that you is I
as well as you is you and I am I.
“You’re getting boring.”
What else is new?
“Certainly not this conversation.”

She shifted in her seat, wondering, waiting for the light to change
While he scratched his nose and took his foot off the brake
And started accelerating the car through the interchange.
“Nice day for a white wedding, isn’t it?” he said.
“What are you talking about?” she said.
“Nothing,” he said.
“You’re irritating me again,” she said.
“Good,” he said.

Where is Ernest Hemingway when you need him?
“Growing daisies, what else?”
Your jokes are not funny.
“But your face is.”
Haha.
“No, mini-haha. It was a small joke.”
Did I not ask you to leave me alone?
“Do you stop asking questions?”
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have a bonafide headache.
“He has a whopper-with-cheese headache.”
I could keep this conversation going on forever.
“You mean as long as you live.”
[In unison] Same thing. “Same thing.”
“Are we in a play?”
I’m not sure.
“Well, don’t you know?”
Give me a moment…[“I” moves STAGE RIGHT]
…yes, I believe so.
“Good, why don’t you write an intermission so I can piss.”
You mean urinate, don’t you?
[In unison] Same thing. “Same thing.”
My headache is almost gone.
“Can we take a break then?”
Yeah, I’m tired of writing.
“Of course, why bother? I mean, who’s going to read this,
anyway? Who gives a shit whether you live or die?
You can always write tomorrow. There are lots of
people who write better than you. You’ll never do
anything with this stuff. You don’t want people to
know I exist. You…”
Want to interrupt you.
“Just because you couldn’t think of anything more
for me to say.”
You will always say more.
“More.”
And crack stupid jokes.
“A funny thing happened to me on the way to the typewriter…”
But I’ll always love you.
“Yeah, me, too.”
You’ll always love yourself?
“Oh, well, I guess I’ll always love you too.”
I thought so.
“You think too much.”
Goodnight.
“Goodnight, Johnboy.”
Shut up.
“Thank you.”
We’ll see you later.

– 9 August 1986

=     ==   ===  ====  ===   ==     =

…Writers Put Their Personalities to Good Use

I am here with you again, you the entity that does not exist
So others can’t see your physical form.
You are only me in a way that may be
Twisted,
Unorthodox,
Unusual,
Insane,
But actually accepted by everyone as a way to survive
In this human-built lifestyle.
I am here with you alone.
“Thank God for that.”
Yes, I thank my lucky stars.
“Who shall I play tonight? A substitute for your mother?”
Are you going to start with the female role stuff again?
“Okay, okay, so I feel like being a little bit dull tonight. You’ve
had your share of uninteresting moments. Give me a break.”
Never.
“Ever?”
Never ever.
“Shall we tell them about the time we went to visit a psychoanalyst?”
You just did.
“No, I mean should we give them the details?”
I don’t know. Should we?
“Maybe later.”
Okay, that’s fine with me. What shall we do now?
“Hmm…we could split into several personalities and act out
a conflict of some sort.”
Like what?
“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe a classic story about a guy
and his strange female lover.”
You’re still hooked on playing out the part of a female.
“No, you’re hooked on pointing out females in our
conversations.”
Look, there’s a female or two in your last sentence.
“The jokes are hot in here tonight. I could fry an egg
on your last remark.”
Please do, it would egg-cite me.
“Har-har.”
God, aren’t we in a sarcastic mood tonight?
You said it, not me.
“I feel like I’m in a movie in a TV looking out.”
Those aren’t your words.
“Hey, words cannot be possessed. They’re only symbols.”
Yeah, symbols for things which can be possessed.
“Nobody possesses anything.”
You’re wrong on that point. You are possessed.
“You’re so funny I forgot to laugh.”
Have you heard that we’re just the evolutionary result
of DNA’s desire to reproduce itself?
“Yes, I heard it at the same time you did. Why are you
bringing it up now?”
Why else?
“To laugh at such a crazy notion? To crack a poor joke?
To show your ignorance about the universe?
Just why did you bring that up?”
To change the subject.
“Why aren’t you writing down everything we say to each other?”
Would that I could.
“What does that mean?”
We’re running out of ink for the typewriter.
“So who’s going to notice? Just you and I. Let’s talk
about something more intriguing, more interesting,
more up our alley.”
Like what?
“Like you better change the ink cartridge.”
Okay…here goes…it’s done.
“Wait, you just changed the ink cartridge for a few words
and went back to the soon-to-be-empty cartridge.
Don’t tell me you were just going to keep typing
and not tell everyone what you just did?”
Why should I record such a trivial event as that?
“Because you must try to strive to tell the truth.”
I must try…?
“I mean, you mustn’t try, you must strive at all times.”
What is the truth?
“Hey, it’s not fair to ask ambiguous questions and you know it.”
Just because we’re the same body doesn’t mean I have to be fair
to you, you know. I don’t owe you a goddam thing.
“Such language.”
Only the best for you, my friend.
“I want to use a line from the movie, ‘A Clockwork Orange.’
What should I say?”
How about ultraviolence?
“That’s not a line, that’s just a word.”
Well, then, how about, ‘Oh, my brothers, you should have
seen the sight’? Will that do the job?
“I’m not sure. Is that really a line from the movie?”
Probably. It sounds like one.
“Oh my brothers, you should have seen the sight.”
That sounds good.
“Thanks. I like the way it sounds, too.”
Did you like the movie or book better?
“Better than what?”
Better than the other.
“The other what?”
Oh, forget it.
“No, really, what do you mean?”
Just forget it.
“I don’t want to. I want to know what you meant.”
Did you like the movie better than the book?
“Oh, well, there’s no comparison.”
See what I mean, you’re useless.
“I am not useless. I help keep you up late at night. I make
sure you schedule more than one thing at the same time.
I keep you from taking too many drugs. I make sure
you iron your clothes. Let’s see, what else do I do to
keep from being useless? I…”
Don’t waste the ink trying to tell me. Just accept the fact that you’re useless and can’t do anything about it.
“Okay, I’ll shut up then.”
You do that.
“Okay, I’m just about ready to stop.”
If you stop, I stop.
“Good, I’m tired.”
Isn’t it great being Siamese twins sharing the same body?
“You’re weird.”
No, we are weird.
“Let’s talk like this again soon.”
That sounds good to me.

– 17 August 1986