Wednesday, August 26, 2015


the beautiful lion spirit roams his prairie in the abundant sunlight. while the rest of the ants on Earth fry, here the weather is always just below temperate, it's always a bit cool to remind folk of the bodies they once had, to always feel, cos once you stop feeling, you're dead. but mostly it's cos nobody, no spirit for that matter, can totally take in all of the light that's here.


Manny: i tried to once, i thought i almost had it contained but that was folly in hindsight. we really do a lot of retrospection where we look back at what we've done and it's like how could we even conceive to do or say such a thing?! it would all be so silly tweren't so tragic. you look up and must immediately look down, the light forms as a ball so at first you think you can play with it but soon the round sides of the ball become decidedly pointy and too sharp to the touch before expanding into no sides at all.

Manny is in a huge gilded cage licking his chops. the lion approaches with the key in his paw and lets the giant out.

Manny: thank you. i actually feel more secure in the cage but it's alright. you're new here, huh? but you're a legend so i know you. i also feel i know your name. Leo?

Leon: Leon. i'm usually the cool cat but man these ants got me in a way. i mean they are so stupid. i would feel the same way if it wasn't me who was killed for no reason by some dumb professional. i mean what are they thinking? this is the LAST time i help them, they'll rue the day i left. underappreciated and overworked. why is it that you only miss something when it's gone? do they not care for beauty? it's staring them right in the face but they never see it.

Manny: i feel ya. i was perturbed for awhile at my demise at the hand of an ant that had simply lucked into superpowers. powers should only be given to those that deserve them. but you come here and it changes. believe me, i tried like hell to hold onto my anger but it dissipates against your will after your first sleep here, it scatters away like bits of star, you see it actually happening cos it's your first genuine lucid dream.

Leon: should we save them? what's the point? they're all doomed to the core.

Manny: from the start, sure. but it's never quite finished. there's always a good one in the rotten bunch that spoils the set theory. snow is falling on us, that is our signal. that is the hope, the new hope, that is what keeps people going to see the latest film, trying out something new, entering that dojo.

the hairs of Gora's ridiculously long beard play the strings of a sitar which is the size of a mighty oak tree. and yes, the sitar is situated right next to a mighty oak tree. irony is not lost here, it is manufactured here. he clicks both his heels together and the music is so bad it's good. the happy old man jumps on top of Leon's head.

Gora: kitty kat! you are so precious! can i keep him? i'll love you forever and forever. i'll let you smell all the catnip you want, it's all we grow here. you'll be the judge in the chair when Vara and i play tennis. i was a little sullen this morn but suddenly i remembered my dream from the night before and that's what lifted my spirit. it's so good that we remember all our dreams. i remembered a huge sitar and i got excited cos i'd never played a huge sitar before, or a sitar before. look to your dreams for inspiration when you run out of ideas.

Vara is pregnant with Tror. a huge black veil covers mother and daughter, not a funeral of ultimate death, rather as protection from ultimate life. as she floats about from staff of wheat to staff of wheat eating for two, she cracks some rocks along the way and is greeted by those rocks with just the right amount of squirt of milk made golden honey by the sun.

Vara: the real liquid gold. and i descend from 49ers. and macaroni 'n cheese is my favorite dish. hubby, stop messing around and....oh never mind, that's why i fell in love with you in the first place.

Gora: y'know i still want to ride you, Manny. you're the ultimate goal.

Manny: i'm working on the baby jane doe case. so sad. poor kid. but we needed a new queen. she's gonna need that absolute lack of human love as she ascends to the throne in the Coal Realm where everything and everyone is hardy. it's a fucked up system. isn't there a better way than karma?

Leon: this has stumped our scholars for the millennial edges of Now for centuries. the centuries are on the other side of Now. the thing is when you start to involve feelings rather than beings it gets all messy. these ants are something. when an unspeakable murder happens, it immediately beomes a national tragedy and everyone mourns and scours the land to find the perpetrator. but as the case gets cold and the decades pass, it becomes more of a novelty, the answer to a trivia question in a game show. what happened to the outrage? time doesn't exist. oh to forget. oh how anger fades into mush.

Manny: what's confounding me even more than explaining her death is explaining the life of Aslan, i mean Atalan.

the grass tennis courts burn in the light, washing away all the brown worn-away area at the baselines and cutting the blade perfectly. Gora can't understand why he's not winning any points but then he realizes Vara is playing for two, it's Tror who's feeding her strategy.

Gora (twirling his racquet on his pinky): nice scissor-kick overhead smash, Vara. or rather Tror. got another Serena upcoming. what's this on your side of the net, on that point i always keep aiming my shot toward but missing?

there's a clump on the grass court that's elevating the dirt up.

Gora: see? i knew i wasn't this bad. i've been improving. this will not be a suitcase-slammer weekend.

there's a green hardcover library book in the hole. Vara snatches the book away from Gora before he has a chance to do god knows what, eat the pages or something.

Vara: sorry dear, but our baby einstein needs to learn.

Vara's eyes switch to Tror's and she speedreads the contents of the book but there's always one more page she can never get to.


on tv at the PGA:

Zach throws his clubs into the ocean and is interviewed right after he does this.

interviewer: i know this is still fresh but what happened to you this week?

Zach: i don't get it. i win the British and play like shit here. is there such a thing as momentum? can one thing influence the next thing or is it all random? i can't talk right now. let my action do the talking. go talk to someone more worthy, like Rory or Jordan or Jason. it's Jason's Day.


let's sneak a peek at another entry in Binny's work diary:

i can't. i mean where's the peak? y'know i was trying not to think of more ways for the powers that be to give me more busywork to do but i accidentally thought of something new: flip the words around, APPLE becomes ELPPA and on and on. you'd think ELPPA doesn't mean anything but it might. and what's the deal with everything i look up on Google Translate being some form of "fuck", "penis", or "breast"?


Mickey Bump arrives at the football stadium in his private jet. he jumps out of the plane with only a parachute, it opens on time but the rounded edge of the half circle gets caught in a rotating propeller wing and he comes crashing down to earth:


the crowd cheers.

Bump crashes into his dais, completely destroying it. Bump through the huge pile of rubble gives the peace sign reversed.

Bump: so much rubbish. so much pain. is my hat okay? oh thank god. thank you all for having my back cos i don't anymore. it's okay, we're gonna be okay, the apparatus of my campaign broke my fall. how is everyone today? okay so the stadium didn't fill up but that's not my fault, your football team stinks.

angry voter in the crowd: i usually don't confront in real life but i feel i can talk to you. you're like everyone's uncle and grandpa. should we continue helping them? why?! what's the point? get rid of them all i say! i mean this week do you know what i had to put up with? i had to go through them forgetting to take my trash on Friday and calling them about it and my trash piling up and piling up not fitting my bin anymore ruining my weekend and i'm like if they won't do their job, who will? i was exasperated pulling out my hair on Wednesday and then Wednesday morning i hear the wheels of the truck and i'm so happy and the guy finally comes, knocking on my door no less, he comes in a special truck i've never seen before, a cool one with mechanical arms, and he even gives me a cool new black bin as a consolation for everything, replacing my tired green one. i said thank you thank you and we mutually smiled. i shook his hand, i was so thankful for his visit.

Bump: see? anger never lasts. folks we are America, we are so powerful we can't see the full measure of our might, it's blinding. if we want to go over there and take their resources it already happened yesterday. as you slept safe and sound a giant hand swept across the night and took everything, destroyed everything, and made a deal. call it the invisible hand if you must, it all balances out. no loss of life, all computers. drones that fucking work, am i right? (crowd cheers.) oh, my back feels like it's been back-broke by King Slender. NES Pro Wrestling? anyone? i always liked King Slender cos he was strong but kept slim.

Bump is carried away on a stretcher.

Bump: is this the same stretcher they used for Alex Trebek? i notice these things.

Bump stares straight into the sky. it's weird. it's overcast but so fricking humid. the clouds are bogarting all the moisture for themselves using it to make something else. it's a trick of the sky. the sweat on everyone's face is grayer than the sky. more so with Bump cos his head is big. it should be pleasing and cool to be outside but it's not.

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