Wednesday, January 14, 2015

PROLOGUE: OUR BRO


Gentle City is a good setting for this, it is the city that always sleeps. dreams will come true here. it has everything you could imagine, bus stops and everything else, whatever is called for to fit the story. it will be the place where everyone's lives will be lived and lived again, where the characters will never be short on character, and the storylines will be endless cos life keeps going and giving us storylines. no theme will be shortchanged, no issue skirted, the sex will be heavy and the heaviness of life will be lost in translation. who says soap operas are dead?

Cotard looks at all of the candles he has lit, the light bounces off his eyes though he can't see that.

Cotard: more light, there can never be too much light.

he scans his modest shrine and smiles. it's small, bigger than a stalker's shrine but certainly not the size of those gaudy megachurches. if this were a fairy tale it'd be just right. but this is a fairy tale, it's all a fairy tale, moreso in this place.

the shrine is Brother Cotard's home away from home. it is approximately the size of one house, the pews are there and three and carved with naked Hellenistic warriors. shards of wood shed off from here and Cotard uses these as toothpicks. the ground becomes a floor through wondrous marble tiling. who pays for all this? taxes i think. he doesn't have to pay taxes. there's a big neon arrow flashing toward the altar. the altar itself is of course pure ivory but no elephants were harmed, that goes against Cotard's code. Cotard loves the animals in nature more than he loves God. or himself. he loves Christ more than God. he's a god in these parts. there are three gems encrusting the front of the altar: blue ruby, red sapphire, and black pearl.

Cotard: the only jewelry a real man should ever wear is an earring.

the panels which adorn the two sides are paintings from all of the Masters: Matt, Trey, Shigeru, Bakshi, and Aragones. there is one panel left blank, Cotard leaves it blank in case the next great artist comes waltzing into church having found religion but still into maverick graffiti.

Cotard: actually it's blank cos i've had writer's block for months.

the ceiling is a world of its own, awnings where they shouldn't be, a third arch for show, and tatami for the spirits Cotard thinks live up there. the doors, well it's one door but it's so majestic it seems like more, was glass and revolving. it had to be. now it's the Klemens Torggler Evolution Door. it has to be.

there's a self-portrait of Cotard done by the monks when he was a pup just entering the monastery, it's hung up with pride, it's Cotard's only real family photo he has. and of course lining the space is the warmth of all those fucking candles.

Cotard: it's more like straight heat and burning fire now.

the wax drips but doesn't burn on the laminated floor, it crusts over like jewels. the place is a waxy mess but from one angle looks like beautiful art. he originally had the candles round and in those round glass cases but he decided to get the long slender ones mounted on cute cups.

Cotard: they look like penises. strength. power. virility. but also it's funny.

Atalan is surprised when Cotard doesn't walk with him to the church after that detailed description.

Atalan: why are we walking away from the holy site?

Cotard: my boy, prayer needs the open air to breathe. come join Kenyatta and me for morning meditation. we've left a mat woven of twigs for you.

Atalan: yoga? fuck you. and by you i mean the system.

Cotard: trends are trendy for a reason. for every one of us that hates the trend, there are two that love it or it wouldn't be trending. i like to watch Kenyatta's nice butt stretch. i stroke my long beard and strike a pose. remember, sex is undefeated. so is Father Time, which was my nickname in the monastery.

Atalan: i'm having a bad life.

Cotard: skip it. i've skipped mine.

Cotard leads Atalan to the shrine.

Cotard: do you know what's the number one item a seeker needs for a successful spiritual journey?

Cotard opens a secret blank panel in the right side of the shrine that is a room filled to the brim with rolls of toilet paper.

Atalan: well i did want to go to the shrine.

at the open field, Cotard assumes the lotus position.

Cotard: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, i've locked up my legs, get me outta here!

Kenyatta, who herself has her face in between her two sets of toes, points with her toes at the areas of Cotard she wants Atalan to hold and lift to get Cotard out of his bind.

Kenyatta: my dear monk, how will you fuck if you aren't flexible? sex is not about technique, it's about being bendy. not good sex anyway, more like monk-fuck. this is so much better than endless cups of coffee in the morning. it's done wonders for my butt. i have an Iggy ass now. this is why i do this. and for the spirit stuff, too.

Atalan: and i'm the lawnmower.

Cotard: the open field does need a trim, but i kinda like its earthy look.

Kenyatta walks away on her trademark handstand.

Cotard: don't walk away yet, my dear, we must help our ailing friend.

Kenyatta: i love you, Cotard. and i'm gonna really have to love you, Ata.

Cotard breaks off a branch from a tree which immediately gives the tree slime flux. he waves it around his beard and while Atalan is distracted pulls a cup of dark liquid from Ata's ear.

Cotard: drink this, it's ancient black magic.

Atalan (drinks): tastes recent.

Cotard: it's Delsym. i shouldn't have left one of my candles in the toilet-paper room, huh. i just thought i needed a light in there to see. my bro and sis, do something for me: all that matters is this one moment, nothing that has come before or since matters. now that your mind is cleared, i want you to go on a journey with me, a musical journey. life=music=life. i spent gallons of blood sweat tears and poopoo trying to locate this track on the internet, i heard it in passing one anime night and have been wondering what it was and how i'd get my grubby little hands on it ever since. i finally found it after going on a hard journey. the only way to justify all the strenuousness on my body is to share it with others, loved ones, so they can see what makes me tick and remember me when i'm gone. so listen to this, notice every sick beat and melody, move your upside-down body to the music, and join with me in one body, one spirit in Spaghetti, just let go and let Goddess. exhale. only exhale. close your eyes. you're feeling better already, aren't you?

CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE AT THIS LINK.

the journey begins only right now.

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2 comments:

Jules said...

Yes I'm definitely feeling better already. I want to live in Gentle city!

Beautiful music ( it helped me become more tranquil) and I love the accompanying video photograph. Spiritual.

I'm exhaling. Externally. *)

the late phoenix said...

my beautiful juli, i am so happy to hear that, it's the most satisfying for me when i can track down good tracks. i wasn't done when i found the title, needed to get the right remix as well. i was so excited i missed that video photo the first time, i closed my eyes and just listened to the music ;) in a recent Agitated study, external exhales were deemed healthier than internal sighs *)