Archive for the 'Ms. Ah-Ha' Category

. . . . You Were Only Waiting, For This Moment, To Be Free

Love Is Lord Of All

Eve Crucified

Palm Sunday Again

All It Is

i see you

 

Not Finished

yet will I sing
bonny boys
bonny mad boys
bedlam boys are bonny

for they all go bare
and they live in the air
and they want no drink nor money

i went to pluto’s kitchen
to break my fast one morning
and there i got souls piping hot
that on the spit were turning

bonny boys
bonny mad boys
bedlam boys are bonny

for they all go bare
and they live in the air
and they want no drink nor money

Inventions

Until today, I believed absolutely that a nun invented barbed wire.

Then I was informed, by the intertubes, that this was just some shit made up by James Joyce, in Ulysses.

That was a nice nun there, really sweet face. Wimple suited her small head. Sister? Sister? I am sure she was truecrossed in love by her eyes. Very hard to bargain with that sort of a woman. I disturbed her at her devotions that morning. But glad to communicate with the outside world. Our great day, she said. Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Sweet name too: caramel. She knew I, I think she knew by the way of she. If she had married she would have changed. I suppose they really were short of money. Fried everything in the best butter all the same. No lard for them. My heart’s broke eating dripping. They like buttering themselves in and out. Molly tasting it, her veil up. Sister? Pat Claffey, the pawnbroker’s daughter. It was a nun they say invented barbed wire.

According to the intertubes, barbed wire was actually invented by some farmer in Illinois named Joe.

Sorry. I’m not buying it.

For the intertubes is an ever-roiling snakes’-nest of lies.

Anybody can post any nonsense, balderdash, barking-mad insanity to the thing.

I know. I’ve done it myself.

For just one instance, the intertubes would have me believe that when Lindsay Lohan was sentenced to community service in a morgue, it was a tip-off that she is an MK-ULTRA-like sex/drug slave embroiled in Call to Chaos rites by a Freemasonic conspiracy involving US intelligence agents who also controlled Marilyn Monroe and directed “Manchurian Candidate” assassin Sirhan Sirhan.

So this Illinois farmer Joe guy: he’s a figment. Joyce had it right. It is just too perfect: that a nun i'm sorryinvented barbed wire. So I am going with that. It is Reality.

Then there’s this sadsack over to the left. He is the guy who invented the typewriter. He later disowned the machine, refusing to use it, or even recommend it. He was a newspaper publisher who was an indefatigable advocate of the abolition of the death penalty. This was in the mid-1850s. Clearly, ahead of his time. His typewriter had ivory keys, and ebony keys, like a piano. He lived in Wisconsin, land of cheese. He, in the course of things, sucked in TB, and eventually died of it, some nine years later. He was 71 at the time, which was pretty old for somebody dying in 1890. He may have soured on the typewriter because to test it he kept shipping it to a crazed maniac who delighted in destroying it. The maniac would ship it back in pieces. The maniac kind of like that ape in the old TV commercials who used to jump up and down on the luggage. The eschewer-of-his-own-invention sadsack was the doyen of QWERTY. And though he turned his back on it, QWERTY controls Anglo scribblers to this day.

The internet, of course, was invented by insane people who sought a means by which serial killers in nuclear missile silos could continue to communicate with one another after they had let loose their missiles and incinerated the whole of the globe.
Tom Robbins intuited that “human beings were realinvented by water as a device for transporting itself from one place to another.”
In Sirens of Titan Kurt Vonnegut revealed that the whole of human history was invented and controlled by beings of the planet Tralfamadore, subtly but firmly arranging things so that eventually a small metallic object, something like a can opener, would unknowingly and naturally be brought, in the fullness of time, from Earth to Titan, moon of Saturn, and there would replace a disabled part in the grounded spaceship of a Titan-marooned Tralfamadorian ambassador, allowing this Tralfamadorian-being to then continue his mission into the great wide open, charged with transporting, from one end of the universe to the other, a message that read, simply:
Greetings.
If there is one thing that we know, in the all and every of this universe, it is this: this story, vouchsafed to us by Vonnegut, is Absolutely True.


When I Worked

September 2014
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