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{Wednesday, February 28, 2007}

 
Oh yes, Professor Makebelieve, I would just love it if you could arrange a meeting between me and my future. That would be awesome, totally awesome as a matter of fact. Because, you know, I'm not competent enough to meet my own future. No, I've stumbled through life up to this point, subsisting on whatever scraps of food I can salvage from the trash heap. I sort of just stroll along feeling sorry for myself and angering the people I meet.

So by all means, tell me where my life will be in another five years. Hell, make it ten years. You see, I have a theory. It goes like this: Things will never change. I will never have a big house or a fancy car. I'll always have to scrape by. I'll always have to content myself with watching other people succeed. That's all there is for me. All I have to look forward to is a lifetime of coming in last. And let's not forget, nearly half of that lifetime is already past. You might as well kill me now.

Could I be wrong perhaps? Please prove me wrong. I need a reason to keep going. If you can't give me a decent future, maybe you could lie.

Please be a decent person and lie to me. Lies are all I have. Thank you.

by Stevarino 3:37 PM


 
May we introduce you to your future?

by Fred 9:47 AM




{Friday, February 23, 2007}

 
Where have all the funny papers gone?

by Stevarino 1:51 PM




{Saturday, February 17, 2007}

 
The price of violence

by Stevarino 8:40 AM




{Friday, February 16, 2007}

 
I was not using them anyway

by Stevarino 6:21 PM


 
(the future we forgot to have)

What happened? To us, I mean. There was an us, once.
They say life is what happens when you're busy making plans.
Well to Hell with that. I never listen to They.

There is a greater thing. What can I call it?
It was what killed us, the only us I ever knew.
Now there's just me, and I am sorry company.

We would have had a garden,
With roses, collards and summer squash.
Our children would have laughed
And slid through the years and shaken off the cruelty of living.

For all of life is suffering. You knew it, even though you are no Buddhist.
Neither am I. Striving for Buddhahood has its benefits,
The greatest of which is nothing. But in the end
It is too much work.

Better to shrug off the hopelessness of our days.
Better to laugh as we roll the stone, as we watch it fall again,
Our Sisyphean secret orgasm.

To Hell with it all,
With gardens, children, suffering, and even Buddha.
There never was an us
And for that I would give thanks,
If anyone remained to accept them.

by Stevarino 6:12 PM


 
the future we forgot to have

by Fred 10:58 AM




{Thursday, February 15, 2007}

 
If God cared for us at all, he wouldn't let us die on this foresaken rock, so far from home and all we've ever loved. He wouldn't punish us for a simple mistake -- no, not even that, just a mechanical glitch that no one could have seen coming. Pressure was stable; the engines were at optimum levels; there was no cause for concern. It wasn't negligence but dumb, bad luck that blinded our craft. It was a faulty coupling deep inside that caused the engine to sputter, then stall and die. That is why we crashed. Our fate was sealed before we left port. But that alone can't be enough for God to let his chosen people die.

The engineers are not so sure -- they have always been a superstitious lot, and the shipboard priest has not done anything to help allay their fears. God is not mocked, she tells them, and we have not kept up our daily prayers, our supplications, our sacrificial offerings. Perhaps we do deserve to be stranded here; perhaps this is part of God's plan. Perhaps, but then so too must be our desire to leave, just as so too was our original mission. That, we know for certain, was God's work. Is that not why we went out to seek the stars? What sort of God would send us out just to die, his work yet undone?

Some of the crew have suggested we bring God's word to some of the inhabitants of this strange rock, but even if that were possible, where to begin? It swarms with life, a terrible chaos, and none of these species seem in the least intelligent. They are not the chosen. They are not God's people. Already, they have attacked one of our patrols, left two of my crewmen dead. Was it our gray skin that frightened them, or was it, more likely, that they are heathen and backward creatures?

If God cared for us at all, he would not let us die here.

by Fred 3:24 PM


 
If God cared for us at all

by Stevarino 2:42 PM




{Wednesday, February 14, 2007}

 
to your heart's desire

by Fred 12:02 PM




{Friday, February 09, 2007}

 
There is nothing wrong with your thermostat.

by Stevarino 7:36 PM




{Tuesday, February 06, 2007}

 
The Devil's job is to make it real.

by Stevarino 4:58 PM


 
I expected something different.

by Fred 12:07 PM




{Sunday, February 04, 2007}

 
You know I didn't mean it

by Stevarino 6:40 PM




{Friday, February 02, 2007}

 
Stop being such a coatrack

by Stevarino 3:18 PM




{Thursday, February 01, 2007}

 
How to make sure your children waste their youth

by Stevarino 6:41 PM


 
(that's just something he says)

"I will spare your life," the executioner said. I was relieved.
My life had flashed before my eyes. The emperor sat on his bejeweled throne, saying nothing, betraying no emotion. It was his decision, obviously. It was the emperor who was allowing me to live. Why had he spared me? I could not imagine. I had taken his daughter's virginity, burned down a third of his kingdom, hamstrung his horses and blackmailed his generals into having gay sex with each other. The generals had all subsequently killed themselves out of shame. I had poisoned the emperor's food and used my metaphysical powers to turn his rivers and lakes into boiling blood. I had eaten all his snack cakes. I had borrowed his car and brought it back with a scratch on the hood and an empty gas tank. I had used my money and connections to make "Achy Breaky Heart" a number one smash hit in the kingdom. I had hacked into the massive computer system that controlled all the movie theaters in the kingdom, and played "Ishtar" again and again until the people rioted. I had given every teenage girl in the kingdom a cell phone with unlimited minutes and "Madonna's Greatest Hits" ringtones. I had secretly replaced the coffee in the emperor's castle with Folger's Crystals, and installed Rosie O'Donnell as minister of finance. Given all that, it was nothing short of a miracle that the emperor was sparing my life. I lifted my arms in thanks just as the executioner split my head in half with his war hammer.
"But...you told me....you'd let me live..." I gasped.
The emperor patted his executioner on the shoulder and gave me a grin.
"That's just something he says."

by Stevarino 6:27 PM


 
That's just something he says.

by Fred 8:57 AM



 

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