Flowers are red, young man. "A" is to "B" as "B" is to "C." Unless it isn't. There's no need to see genetics any other way than the way they always have been seen.

Month: April 2020

Essential Jobs

I had a trippy apocalyptic dream: White people were calling 911 to complain about Armageddon and a bored dispatcher replied “Sometimes the planet just deserves it.”

Lady Liberty

Hovering over the waters and watching civilization being built over and over again:

The dead rising from their graves.

The others, picking up shovels and helping dig.

Cities being built and destroyed.

And built and destroyed.

And built and destroyed again.

I’m like, this is taking a long time — why is this necessary?

Every single time, I watch an angry and ancient goddess who looks like the Statue of Liberty , rising out of the ground and destroying civilizations and men.

They attack her and she smites them all.

They try to bury her.

They try to encapsulate her in concrete.

But over and over and over again , she rises and demolishes everyone and everything in her path.
The people are black and white.

They have outdoor ceremonies.

Sometimes they worship Lady Liberty. And they are smitten again.

Sometimes it’s more peaceful and productive.

Then I’m starting to realize the purpose she serves:

To slay wicked civilizations and men who harm the earth and her people.

Hell: An Exhibit

I was excited to get to go see The Exhibit.

I already knew the punch line: We’d realize we were already dead and in Hell.

I have no pants on.

I kept getting kicked to the back of the line, only to be met with escalating and conflicting demands for methods of proving that I’d paid my admission price.

The first exhibit was the kitchen:

A dazed and distressed young woman who looked like a startled zombie paced back and forth mindlessly from the coffee maker to the fridge to rummage for something to eat.

Back to the coffee maker: Have to go to work.

Back to the fridge: Rummage, rummage, rummage.

Back to the coffee maker: Have to go to work.

Back to the fridge: Rummage, rummage, rummage.

Back to the coffee maker: Have to go to work.

Back to the fridge: Rummage, rummage, rummage.

Back to the coffee maker: Have to go to work.

Back to the fridge: Rummage, rummage, rummage.

And so on.

A pile of chocolate chip cookies, soft batch, sweet and rotten, stacked high to the ceiling on the counter with flies buzzing everywhere around it.

Feed your addiction.

Eat the sugar.

Make that coffee.

Punch that clock.

Bring your ass back to the refrigerator and rummage and rummage and rummage all you want, you will never find anything in there that feeds the hunger inside of you.

A member of the audience giggles and claps her hands, bravo!

She says, “They might be in hell, but they’ve made it beautiful if they are.”

I mimicked the zombie faces of the woman trapped in the kitchen.

Go to work.

Caffienate up.

Feed my addictions.

This pissed of one of the people running the exhibit and they came to bounce me out.

I said “oh please! I’m fascinated and I haven’t even seen half of it!”

They grinned.

I asked “where’s my backpack?”

I was no longer carrying my load.

None of it mattered.

None of it mattered.

None of it mattered.

None of it mattered.

None of it mattered.

None of it mattered.

None of it mattered.

Allelula. Allelula. Allelula.

None of it mattered now.


Time’s Up

[The time had come]

We laid down in our positions holding our glowing cards up.

I hid mine under the blanket, not wanting to display mine or be seen.

[A portal in the wall opened up for each player like the end of a video game, asking us: Continue or start over as a new player?]

If you started over as a new player, you picked your geographical region. For example:

Wisconsin needs 40,000 people.

But I warn you, you could be immediately victimized by the impending industrial revolution.

Want to play?

[Good News]:

You don’t have to.

[The righteous will never have to play this game again this time.]

No sooner could we celebrate — Wisconsin had heavy representation in this game and we were about to proudly nail our license plates to the wall to show everyone — Lots of plates from Wisconsin —

We were in for one more show.

We were in a cafe now and an older woman was being rude to her customers, refusing service to some. At first we thought maybe she was racist or didn’t like young people or ————

Reactions are mixed.

Uncertain about how to handle this one I turned to someone and asked them “what should we do?”

The moral of the story:

Wait awhile and observe her.

The results?

She is the same way to whoever comes in the door , whether it is one customer or 100.

So no, she isn’t racist.

Or against young people

Or against the “otherness” in front of her.

She is just that way towards everyone.

She falls down.

People step back , stunned at what is happening right now.

Isn’t this supposed to be over now?

Is she dying?


What the – ?

A man steps in to perform chest compressions and try to save her even though nobody liked her.

Someone laughs.

I say “that is not funny!”

She dies.

Poof she disappears through the wall leaving a tiny V shaped print with two tufts of hair, it almost looks like a tacky little string bikini on the wall, something vulgar, something – I don’t know, vaginal.

Someone chuckles and says , that must have been a tight fit.

Poof, she comes back and she’s laughing with us.

She is okay now.

No one is in trouble.

We just needed to learn one more thing before we were on our way:

It is okay to not know what to do about a situation.

It is okay to ask someone what to do, if you don’t know what to do.

Even better though if you step up and do it.

Like that gentleman who performed the chest compressions on her even though she seemed dreadful.

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