Thursday, April 21, 2011


Dr. Yours Truly: "Would you like me to go over it again? I thought this sort of thing usually clicked instantly with you."

The Head: "Yours, please repeat our special guests greeting. Speak slower this time around."

Dr. Yours Truly: "Sure thing. All four of them, in unison, recited this exactly:

The Dog has caught its tail.
The Dog has chewed and swallowed much of its tail.

When all is said and done, the Dog will poop out the tail.
And still Man sits with folded hands, chewing the flesh of Man."

The Head: "Hmm."

Dr. Yours Truly: "I like the part about everything being said and done. Our guests sure know how to write poetry. Mmm, great poem."

The Head: "So, you think this is a poem?"

Dr. Yours Truly: "Yep. I mean, it is a poem."

The Head: "It's from the Bible, Yours. Well, at least part of it is. You mean to tell me, that after every thing that occurred during the conference, upon hearing their response, you thought it was a poem?"

Dr. Yours Truly: "It is a poem."

The Head: "Doc, you're worth every penny. By the way, I thought I told you it was OK to rig the raffle. How was The "Artists'" number drawn?"

Dr. Yours Truly: "Hey, I did rig the raffle. I rigged it so that my number would be drawn, so that I could have been the one to greet them. But, raffles aren't what they used to be. And, fair is fair."

Thursday, April 14, 2011

It Happened One Day

The world sat in the corner of the waiting room. As Son sent a woman, who when asked “What exactly is wrong?” could offer no other explanation besides the circling of her face and throat coupled with a distracted “I’m just… I don’t feel good”, to return to a waiting seat, the world began to sing. Simultaneously, it sang two songs, each in two octaves. One song it sang to the left, and one song, to the right.

It had become habitual for Son to listen to the world’s singing. Son loves music! Why should he let one human-music inspired self-mutilation experience ruin all music for him? The world has a quite distinguished singing voice, mind you. Anyways, the world sung, and Son heard.

To the right, the world sang:

(In the voice of Jane) “Mam, before you return to your seat in the waiting room, please allow me to explain just one more thing to you. What I am about to explain is for your information. Just in case you saw that strange and bulky object in the alcove directly behind you, and wondered what “on earth” it could be, I have the answer! I can inform you of its purpose. It is a new and pharmaceutically revolutionary “machine-object” that can, and if you elect to utilize its services, will save you a trip to your local Walgreen’s, CVS, what-have-you, etc. The “machine-object” behind you has been named “The Insty-Meds Machine”. Listen now, to this! This “Insty-Meds Machine” is more-or-less – and in my opinion, more – a “Vending Machine”. But! Instead of vending your typical “Nutrageous”, “Jay’s”, “Lay’s”, or “Funyuns” snack items, the “Insty-Meds Machine” vends medicines. You can, if you elect to use its services, buy any number of medicines that the doctor – who I assure, will be with you shortly – may or may not prescribe to you. Your “Amoxicillins”, “Z-Packs”, “Robitussin AC”, “Prednisone”, “Albuterol”, “Valium”, pills, syrups, suspensions, what-have-you, etc., etc., etc., are all inside of this machine. The only thing stopping you from purchasing your medicines from within the very room in which we sit, is your permission. Yes, I need your permission. Permission to scan your supplementary prescription insurance card into the “Insty-Meds Data-Base”, a data-base the “Insty-Meds Machine” is close friends with – maybe even best friends. Let me be honest with you for a second, I don’t think there is a secret between them. Do you think “Machines” have realized within their “Machine-Potential” their ability to tell lies? Woah, woah, woah, Jane! You’re getting yourself sidetracked here! I’m sorry about that Mam. So, do you give me permission to scan you prescription insurance card into the “Insty-Meds Database”? So that in the case the doctor prescribes to you any of the medicines currently in-stock within the “Insty-Meds Machine”, based upon his or her provisional diagnosis, which is of course based upon whatever those symptoms were you informed me of a few minutes ago, you will be able to purchase those prescribed medicines right here, without even going to the CVS right around the corner.”

(In an obese and tired woman’s smoky exhalation) “Nah, that’s ok, I have to go to Walgreen’s anyways.”

And to the left, the world sang:

(In your Mother’s voice) “Hey, this is your Mother. I’m good. How are you? Good. Hey, I have a question for you. Can you answer a question I have? Yeah, I was wondering, how much does a pack of Newport 100’s cost? You don’t know?! What do you mean you don’t know? You don’t know that they cost Five-Dollars and Seventy-One cents? How is it that you don’t know this? Do you mean to tell me that you didn’t buy a pack of Newport 100’s this morning at Shell-Station #1068? Oh you did! I see. You just didn’t bother to look and see how much they cost, with tax included. Did you buy this pack of Newport 100’s with my debit card? You did. Well, thank you for at least being honest with me. Can I ask you another question? Can you let me in on something? How did you get my debit card? I never gave it to you. Your father is under strict instructions not to give it to you. Did you steal my debit card? You did?! Well, thank you for your honesty. Jake, are you listening to me? Don’t be a thief! Don’t be a thief. Oh? You’re going? Ok, well… I have to get back to work anyways.

Aha! I knew it! Something just told me!

Steve, are you there? Yeah, yeah, it’s me. I’m at work. Steve? Before you do or say anything to him, go into his room, look through his stuff, and find his cigarettes. When you find his cigarettes, destroy them. Destroy the cigarettes. Guess what? He stole our credit card. That means he is coming into our bedroom, at night, while we are sleeping, and going into my purse. Yeah, I know! From now on, we are sleeping with the door locked, ok? Ok? Ok. After you find the cigarettes, what are you going to do? No, no, after you destroy them. You’re going to punish him, ok? Ok. Love you too, sweetie. Wait, what did you just say you did? I thought you were going to start building the deck today. What?! You did what?? Honey!! Why would you move my landscaping rocks?! Ok, yeah, gotta go. Love you, too.

He moved my landscaping rocks!”

Now, the world never intended for Son to do what he set his mind to that day. The world was only singing. But, when two songs, sung in two octaves, swirl round and round the air of a room, tiptoe all the way through Son’s ears’ canals, meet upon their arrivals in the center, shake hands, and say “Good to know you, friend”, Son is just the sort of person who tends to wonder “What in the world” would make the world want to sing such songs. You know the type. So, one can understand how easy it really would be for Son to misinterpret the songs’ meanings.

As the songs, long since over, resonated within and without his mind, Son sat, stared at the ground and thought to himself: “Well, I suppose this must be it. Why didn’t anyone tell me that he was being serious when he claimed every imagination of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually? Come on, it sounded like he was exaggerating. Geez. Well world, how big do you want it to be?”

Meanwhile, in the waiting room, there are five children – one boy and four girls. Each has a smart phone in their hands. All five smart phones render the song “Baby” by Justin Bieber. Though, each child had pressed “play” according to their own time. The smart phones spew tinny and distorted versions of the words “baby, baby, baby, oh baby”. All five children are dancing. All five children are tracing the words. Each in their own time. At the very least, this situation, event, what-have-you, is informing one boy’s and four girls’ sexuality.

Horace and Doris buy Ice Cream

Horace and Doris stand in line to buy the soft-serve ice cream the boy behind the window and counter will arrange in either a sugar or waffle cone. Doris looks at the ground. Horace looks to the left, and to the right. Then, Horace joins in Doris’ gaze-stance. He slightly lifts his right foot, kicks a pebble, shrugs, and puts his hands into his pockets.

“What is the matter, Doris?”


As the vocal chords inside the throat of Doris swing back and forth, pitching the i, n, and g across the center of home plate, a sensation suddenly fills her body. It is a sensation Doris typically feels. Doris was not handed down the name of this sensation from a mother, brother, or aging cousin. And, at this point in time, she has neither invented, nor has she chosen to agree with the name elected by some playwright, popular-music singer, or child. So, not having a name for this feeling that is brimming and boiling over the edge of her “pot”, Doris opens the book she is reading to pages 59 and 60, page 59 being the last page she read.

You know what they say, “A bookmark never forgets.” No, a bookmark remembers.

On this day, Doris is using a one-dollar bill as a book mark. Horace and Doris are still waiting for their ice-cream cones. As Doris’ eyes descend towards the book – so that she can pretend to read, so that she doesn’t have to invent a name for a currently unidentified feeling, so that she doesn’t have to talk to Horace – they are attracted to some words scribbled on the backside of the one-dollar bill. Simultaneously, Horace imagines himself making contact with the “Nothing Ball” thrown directly into the center of his strike-zone (he would have hit it out of the park!), and the scribbled words on the back of the one-dollar bill bookmark come into the eyes of Doris.

As she reads over the scribbled words, the previously unnamed feeling she felt leaves her body. This happens because the nature of the scribbled words could be called “abrasive”. The scribbled words poke many leaky holes into the soles of her feet. By-the-way, that unnamed feeling she felt was a liquid. The words scribbled upon the back of the one-dollar bill bookmark are gaseous. Through the poked holes, the scribbled words slowly ascend and fill each and every cavity within Doris’ body. She quickly identifies the feelings she now feels. She knows their names. She is surprised, excited, and afraid.

In her mind Doris thinks: “Wait a second here… How could… No, it’s not possible… Is someone talking to me? Hello, is anyone there?”

Doris shuts the book. Pages 59 and 60 are still marked by the one-dollar bill bookmark. The very same bookmark that to this day has the words “all of your nothings filled two jars neither heavy nor weightless suspended on a two-by-four dangling over city street the nothings are yours the jars are ours the two-by-four is mine” scribbled upon the backside with a orange-red crayon.

Saturday, April 9, 2011


"Hello World. A solitary "Shout Out" to all my listeners in X-County. I promise you all -- or should I call you everyone? -- that this hour's talking will be good and logical. So, lets get going. Why don't we? Nevermind.

BIO 105 professor T. L. Marsh once said of the twenty-first century's most profound and inquisitive logician, that "It was obvious to me at the very onset of the course that he was disinterested. His mind just wasn't inside BIO 105." The logician of whom we speak is of course the renown and controversial Roberto Rehn-Aldi. Rehn-Aldi was known to his peers as an avid "White Socks" "Baseball Team" "Fan". It has even been rumored that Rehn-Aldi may have been one of the first human beings to intentionally conceal the "White" "Apple" "Ear-Bud" "Head-Phones" in such a way that the "Head-Phone's" "Chord" hung in the cavity between his body's "Skin" and "Tea-Shirt", emerging from the point of a "Tea-Shirt" called the "Collar".

Retrospectively, we can safely say that Rehn-Aldi did all this so that he could listen to "Live" "W.G.N." "Radio" "Broad-Casts" of the "White Socks" "Baseball Team's" "Baseball Games" without drawing obvious attention to the "Fact" that during BIO 105, his mind's "Probes" "Marines" and "Zerglings" wandered through, and charted the regions of human-being consciousness that at that point in time were "Black".

Rehn-Aldi's bravely posed question "Do Dogs Chase Birds?" actualized the chasm within Frege's then wilting logical continent. Mmm, it still resonates in my mind, at least. When all was said and done, these four words had caused an entire logical continent to vanish. We are left to wonder whether or not deductive logic will rise once again from the center of a sea, just as Atlantis has. We think not. To call Rehn-Aldi a sea-creature biting at a line would be more than insulting, it would be illogical. Rehn-Aldi is not a sea-creature. Deductive logic is not a bobber.

If it were not for Rehn-Aldi's twenty-first century spoken words, human beings would have never learned the secret -- the truth -- behind bird's flight and migratory patterns. Human beings would still be underneath the impression that birds "smelled their way to Florida" and simply knew how to get back home.

For those of you who are just now joining us within this point in time, let's recap. Birds do not "smell their way to Florida", sillies. No, birds follow the rings. In order to get to Florida, they have to collect almost all of the rings. A moment of silence seems in order. Let us ponder "Where in the world each would be today" if we human beings had never figured out how birds get to Florida.

An interesting side note, for those who are both still listening and still care: early evidence of this human-discovery to-have-been can be seen in aspects of twentieth century "Media". One begins to ponder the psychic capabilities of us human beings when considering the apparent clairvoyance of SEGA. It is obviously not coincidental that in order to complete each level in Sonic the Hedgehog, players of SEGA were required to adopt and mimic exactly the very means by which birds, to this day, use in order to get to Florida.

Although Rehn-Aldi is still among us today, he has not been much help in our hunt to uncover the "Reason" why human beings create games people can play on SEGA which unconsciously profess how birds get to Florida. Maybe, just maybe, we should look deeper into the original question posed by Rehn-Aldi. Do dogs in fact chase birds? If dogs do chase birds, then what is it about dogs that fills their dog-bodies with the sort of feelings that inspire them to chase birds? If a dog is man's best friend, then unraveling this enigmatic ball of yarn of a question could reveal the profundities of the human psyche. And if after solving this riddle we are no more enlightened, then dog might not actually be man's best friend.

We'll leave you with this final thought: Have dogs betrayed us human beings once and for all? There is only one way to find out.

This is Son, signing off.

Until "Next" Time. Pffffft. Haha y'all, just messing.

Ah, wait! I have perceived several "Artifacts" from the time before that demonstrate that dogs do find birds, and dogs do hold birds in their mouths, but still no solid perceivable evidence that dogs specifically chase birds. Can you see the "Artifacts"? Can you at least perceive them? I have laced this "Broad-Cast" with them.

Once "More", "Good-Bye". Here are my apologies for speaking with the furry tongue of one who had not yet become. It's the only way I know how, I swear. Can anyone still with me taste the apology yet?"

Friday, April 8, 2011

More Interoffice Correspondence

Yours Truly says: “Good morning representatives of Mankind! And a jovial “hello” to you as well, Dogs. Let me begin by thanking both of you for the basket of apples that arrived in my temperature controlled food storage bin this morning. Yes, the apples are scrumptious. No, I’m not addicted – yet! Ha, I’m just hoping that neither of have mistaken me for Snow White! You know, because of my skin. Ha, only foolin’.

Alright, let’s get this show on the road already! Shall we? Ok, before we all start the work day, The Head – or “La Cabeza” for our Spanish speakers in the audience tonight, asked me to read out loud, in his voice, a letter that he had written only moments before I began my trek to the office bright and early this morning.

Ok… let me see here. Wow! He starts it with a truly old-fashioned question. Ok, geez. Well, here we go.


“My grandfather used to sit me on his knee and ask me this question every morning. By-the-way, for you information, I am not asking you this question. This is a rhetorical question. I am well aware, meaning, I already know how silly this question will sound to you, my employees. Bear with me. I have a point that I want to make. Something I think you all need to remember. Something I can’t believe you all have forgotten, again. The question is: “If you could travel backwards or forwards in time, to any point that had ever existed or will exist, and while you were inside that particular point in time, you only got to speak with one person, to what point in time would you travel, and with whom would you speak?”

The point that I want to make is that everyone here tonight is really ungrateful of everything I have ever done in my entire life. The human-being resource office, down here at headquarters, is getting more complaints today, than yesterday. This is not sustainable. I cannot sustain this. Neither can I stand it!

Please, knock it off. Yes, all of it. Knock it all off. In my opinion, each and every one of my employees is way to close to goofing off. Knock it off. Don’t goof off. If it wasn’t for my grandfather asking me the rhetorical question I posed to you all moments ago, I never would have had the insatiable desire to meet the first one of us! Do you see where I am going with all of this? Do you? If you are thinking “Yes, I see where he is going with all of this” then ask yourself this question, “Do you really?”

I mean to express that if I wasn’t asked that question every morning, sitting upon my Grandfather’s knee, none of you would have jobs. Alright? Is that clear?

So, everyone in attendance tonight, please bow your heads, close your eyes, open your hearts, and repeat after me:

“I will stop having problems that I feel compelled to submit to the human resource office.

I am thankful for my job.

I feel good about this.

Thank you, The Head”

And one more thing, I realize, meaning “I know”, that no one has to “know” anything anymore – thanks to me, and I realize that no one has to “remember” anything anymore. Even so, I am going to ask you all another question. A different kind of question. Your grandparents and great-grandparents and great-great-grandparents would have known the answer to this question I am about to ask you all. They would have known that what I am about to ask you is a “Science” question. Ok? So listen up.

What is it about us human beings that is different? Why did human beings end up on top of the food chain? Why not lions, or dinosaurs, or even dogs for that matter? Why are we the fortunate few who get to eat three meals a day through our nostrils? Because we know the secret of evolution. What is the secret of evolution you ask? Oh, sorry, I forgot nobody remembers anything these days. Well, let me tell you. The secret of evolution is that it behooves you to behoove. It has been established as a fact that we are the way we are because we were the species that learned how to behoove the best.

Do you see where I am going with this, human beings? If any of you want to keep your jobs, it would behoove you to behave yourselves from time to time. Let’s not forget what happened yesterday!

Your boss,

The Head”

Ok… Did everyone get that? Alright guys, I don’t feel like saying much else. If anyone has any questions, the door to my office is always open. Come on by anytime. Let me conclude by once again, thanking both of you for the basket of apples. Ok, well, representatives of Mankind, start working now. Remember, enjoy yourselves!”

Well, What Would You Do?

If I were Noam Chomsky this is what I would do:
I'd eat all ice-creams sold in Waterloo

Don't Smoke