Archive for the ‘The Stories’ Category
Professor Steals God’s Identity. Claims, “Takes one to know one.”
August 10th, 2013 | 
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Who’s creating whom?
Identity theft, long thought to have victimized only earthlings with good credit scores, has smote our dear Lord. The Lord tweeted to his followers (which is everyone, except atheists) that he regrets any inconvenience to his children, but that he’s not responsible for the karmic debts rung up by his impostor. The credit firm Equifax immediately downgraded the Lord’s credit rating to Cash Only stating, “We recognize that our Creator is probably too big to fail, however, until his true identity is sorted out, it would be advisable for anyone doing business with the Almighty to do so on a Cash Only basis because right now, we don’t know him from Adam. His credit rating will be restored when Chuck Norris OKs it. Our exasperated Lord was heard muttering, “I may be able to move Heaven and Earth, but try getting your credit score upgraded – that takes an act of Norris.”
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Deconstructing an Essay While Writing It
“I can’t wait to read this when I can read,” thinks biscuit-cheeked Megan.
The first sentence of an essay often comes at the beginning and is probably its most important. The next sentence comes second, which is the same way a thoughtful husband makes love to his wife. The 3rd sentence is usually truant and can be found gorging itself at an all-you-can-eat buffet. So by the fourth sentence you need a catnap. Now the fifth sentence is where I try to arouse your interests in my story by slowly revealing its contours, but this amounts to no more than a pastie on the nipple of life. So by the sixth sentence the whole affair has grown a little tedious and that’s why the first sentence is so damn important.
Noiry, Noiry Night
“Nah. Smoke don’t bother me none at all baby. In fact my doc says I ain’t gettin’ enough tar as it is.”
What in the devil was she doing here? I thought we were done. Through. Over. But of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she had to pick mine in Anytown, USA. Sure Anytown was a nondescript place of generic citizens and cookie cutter houses. A sleepy little hamlet filled with sleepy little people – so sleepy their pupils didn’t even bother to dilate. It was a warm and comforting town where a guy like me could go to forget things. Forget things ya see. And that’s the way it was till I saw her angel face from across a crowded room. And then time stood still. I’m tellin’ ya it wouldn’t move. And when her eyes met mine all the bad times were forgotten. Like a bad memory washed from the sidewalk of life. Yeah that’s it. A bad memory washed from the sidewalk of life. Read the rest of this entry »
David’s Unbidden Lament
I simply remember my favorite things and then I don’t feel so bad.
I’ve been alive for 52 years and in that time I don’t believe I’ve ever fully experienced what it means to really be Alive. Oh sure I delight in attempting the impossible, like finding nutrition in a Paula Deen recipe. I also revel in the occasional happy alignment of distant hope and nearby reality; like the recurring dream I have involving Julie Andrews and a ♫few of my favorite things♫. After washing the sheets, I reflect that these events are all evanescent flash paper moments calculated by God to keep me engaged in his little Milky Way art project while he avoids any explanations of why I might be participating in it. As far as achieving a quintessence that a particular moment exemplifies the true meaning of being alive, I’m left wanting or at least wandering. Read the rest of this entry »
Artillery of the Gods’
Father Father Mulligan explains it all.
When saintly Father Mulligan was canonized by the Catholic Church in 1991, all agreed he made the funniest looking cannon you ever saw. He wasn’t too happy about being a cannon either and hardly viewed canonization as a reward for years of dedicated pastoral service. It was preferable to the old days of enshrinement when the church would catapultize high performing priests. In later years they’d even bazookaize MVPs, so he breathed easier with simple canonization. What did he do to earn this place of honor? Well, according to the Catholic Hall of Fame Committee he was responsible for 3 miracles:
1. Somehow he got the roof repaired at St. Anthony’s without a donation drive
2. He is credited with preventing the Great Chicago Flood of 1964. That’s why you’ve never heard of it either.
3. And against impossible odds, he found a way for Michael Jackson to impregnate an actual female Read the rest of this entry »
A Passion for Apathy
The Garden of Earthly Delights in liquid form.
The title begs the question; why would anyone even care about a story like this? A story that leads us not into temptation, but delivers us from Applebee’s. A story that promises to illuminate the ancient chords of connectivity that beautifully bind us into a network of happy users with unlimited carryover minutes. Don’t you see? It’s always been about the size of your bandwidth. And he who encompasses the greatest spectrum is able to realize the most elevated experiences – many of which are now available in HD.
These deeper experiences can all be yours if your passion for apathy inspires you to such inactivity. It’s true and this has been proven by numerous people who’ve never had near-death experiences. In fact, most of them aren’t even having near-life experiences right now. And it is their lethargy that has made all the indifference in the world. I’m referring to the kind of folks who just post other people’s quips on Facebook. The kind of people who blithely agree with convention because…well just because it’s a known quantity. Oh sure they say they do their laundry down by the river with rocks and lye, but secretly they just throw their clothes in the dishwasher like everybody else. It’s like my genetically modified mother used to say, “This Herbal Essence Shampoo smells so good and will go great with the lamb chops I threw in the dishwasher.” Read the rest of this entry »
I Sing of Susan Sontag*
*brought to you with limited commercial interruption by the people at Amazon.com
Consciousness harnessed to flesh. Sontag’s all that.
Preamble
So what if her last name seems to have letters missing. Who cares if, in Camille Paglia’s words, her “cool exile” from feminism left the movement bereft. Susan Sontag’s incisive perspicacity and ability to effectively write down things she was thinking about, made her a celebrated cultural icon and a stentorian literary maven amongst the tight circle of bookish intellects she moved in. Never one to be confused with a dilettante, her body of work is an eminent standard by which modern literary criticism is judged. She may appeal to a select few and that’s probably why you’ve stopped reading by now. However, Ms. Sontag is abundantly worthy of exploration and it is my peculiar curiosity in her body…of work, that prompts this essay. In other words, how does someone get like this? Are they born this way or do they choose to be a non-practicing Jewish, left wing, bisexual, cultural barometer capable of devastating and discerning prose? We can explore this together or you could go back and reclick on the article “Home Schooled Student Expelled for Sleeping with his Teacher.” So what? Little Timmy was 6 years old and had a nightmare. Forgive him for crawling in bed with his mommy. Read the rest of this entry »
Phooey!
Confidence becomes me?
It is often said, “You can’t worry about things you have no control over.”
And that’s always bothered me. No control? I not only want my world controllable, I want it perfected. Forget politics. Let’s start a grass roots movement to promote controllability. Not just for my world, but for every….nah, just for my world. Everyone else’s world will work out just fine if mine is perfected. I mean you can’t just press the pads of your fingertips together and say, “Look everybody, I’m exuding confidence.”
The truth is; worrying has its place. It keeps us vigilant and aware of avoidable pitfalls. Like anything else though worrying can be carried too far. Then again, the distance you carry it away must be at least far enough to prevent the thing from happening you’re worried about occurring in the first place. Me like writing. Read the rest of this entry »
Thou Shalt Not Limit Consumer Choice
Steve Martin: Man of many molecules.
Back in his stand up days, Steve Martin would often sidle up to the microphone in that manner we all liked to imitate, and glibly announce to the crowd, “I don’t generally like to gear my material to the audience.” He could afford to say that. He had a following and fans understood his comedic vocabulary. As for me, I just hope you understand the abstruse arcana of my vocabulary. Heck, I hope I can. Verbal chaff can mask a thousand imperfections, just like butter or college does, but it can’t hide the dry rot of inconsequential ideas. For example, in answer to the burning question on everyone’s mind – It was me. I let the dogs out. Read the rest of this entry »
Suicide Balloon Animal Self-Detonates in Crowded Menagerie
Balloon animal goes boom at Quincy Market. Random event or part of a greater menace?
2 Horseys Missing and Presumed Popped
Giraffe’s Lost Limbs Quickly Reattached
Little Brittany in Tears
Boston 5/4/13 – A self-radicalized balloon animal blew himself up at Quincy Market on Saturday, causing a millisecond of panic amongst bomb-sensitive Bostonians who collectively flinched at the report of a piercing thunderclap emitted by the suicide ballooner. The 2 foot long dachshund took with him 2 multi-colored horseys as well as briefly popping off the gangly legs of a nearby Shi’ite giraffe. The giraffe was quickly repaired and released into the protective custody of Sara Shanahan whose father paid $5 for the privilege. Read the rest of this entry »