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Birth is the process by which
enter the world to become animated objects, either through the hatching of an
or through the timely expulsion of the organism through the
. The animate object begins to use its own
exclusively and freely; in certain mammals by emitting an involuntary "
" of some sort. The object has the ability to move and act according to a pre-written
. Of the period before birth surprisingly little is known. The so-called
Ghost in the Machine
is a scientifically unproven
which may be discarded as
Snow fell on the twenty-ninth and thirtieth, and ended on the thirty-first. The sun off the snow defined everything. My father dropped me off at his house. We went down the street, down to J's house. She came out with us, over to R's place. The midnight countdown ... and it was suddenly 1983.
We left R's, and took J home. It was so quiet. We went back to R's, and shared a bottle of beer.
I called my father to pick me up. The two of us went outside. We wrestled in the fresh snow, and he kissed me.
There are raccoons in my chimney. I think there's two. They're probably a couple, probably mates setting up a nest. They scrabble around at night, digging at things, and knocking in an unaccountable way.
There are probably two layers of brick protecting us, so there's not much worry.
But at night, when I'm just about asleep, I have vivid phantasies about finally breaking through, finally getting our claws into them, all into those smug mortals who think they're so safe, so secure, in their little orbs, eyeballs ripe for the knife, flesh that's ripe, ready,
Your hair is like a lovely pile of eels,
Did Goddesses instruct you in these ways?
Your eyes are ringyd with such blackened wheels
I think of nothing but thoughout my days;
Your face as lovely as a pope that's screaming,
Your breasts like Kathy Ackers clawing graves,
Your arms as thin as Gulag victims teeming,
Your pretty legs beg manacles of slaves;
I love you more than structuralists can say-
Beyond The Tate, beyond The Power Plant-
Your beauty's uglier than words can spray:
I'm not a simple stupid sycophant.
I'll deconstruct, reverse your oppositions,
Immanentizing all your decompositions.
UNITED STATES POLITICS
LIBERALS: He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black. He's black.
CONSERVATIVE: He's black.
LIBERALS: You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist! You racist!
M- lent me a DVD with a short film on it, a film M- had written. I took it home and we watched it, and it was simply terrible. Just
It was about a man haunted by the ghost of a dead lover, and the whole film was him walking around his apartment grimly, seeing the ghost ever now and then. As Mary said, it was all just so
What was I supposed to say to M-? Fortunately he'd also given me the script, so I told him, "The script was better than the film."
NOTE TOWARDS THE RADIO ADAPTATION OF 'THE MURDER HOUSE'
I want every third word the stranger says to be recorded in reverse phonology reversed.
He should sound like Ward Cleaver.
We can throw in some sounds from the kitchen, some cat-like sounds. A bit of extra diologue could be, What's that? That's the cat, ignore her. The cat is never mentioned again.
Interior monlogue at the very end: "FUCK HE'S ONE OF THEM HE'S ONE OF THE KILLERS HE WOULD HAVE KILLED ME FUCK THAT'S IT THAT HAS TO BE THE MURDER HOUSE I WASN'T WRONG AT ALL HE'S LOOKING!"
BEFORE - DEPARTURE - INTAKE - 2003
It had curly short dark hair. Its eyes are crimson from the flashbulb, and the picture was not re-taken. It's only a security photo. The shirt it wears--you can only see the collar clearly--is black and white, checkerboarded. What's in the back? In the back is nothing. It hangs in a void. There is nothing there. In the conception of its photograph there was little of what anyone would call
the artistic motivation.
There is not much else to say. It's a dead thing, and getting deader and deader each day.
Globe and Mail, 9 January 2008
Yesterday, Toronto City Council's executive committee approved a pilot project to put fifteen "ethnically diverse" and "healthy" food carts on the street.
The carts would be leased out to city-approved vendors, and closely monitored by the Toronto Board of Health.
Chairman of the City's Public Health Board Councillor John Filion defended the plan, saying the carts would promote tourism, benefit marginalized sections of the community, and create entrepreneurial business opportunities.
"I don't see why we have the city government trying to involve itself in business. It's a recipe for disaster," said Councillor Denzil Minnan-Wong.
OVERHEARD AT THE MEDIA PRODUCERS' TABLE
Ready to get pissahhhhed!
Hey, I know one of those guys over there, he's, like, my best bud!
Rock concerts! Drugsdrugsdrugs! Meeting
Oh man this is so great, seeing all of you here, going crazy!
After the show, what we did there, I went out for a drink with her, with Feist, and she's pretty cool!
You're pretty cute, you know? Where do you live? Do you live alone?
Yeah, took so many drugs, twelve beers, ecstacy....
Oh look at the time! Let's get to the party!
waking up this morning i thought of a couple things precisely that a couple things and these are what they were first i thought about sleeping with feet and i wondered what sleeping without feet would be like and if that would be preferable and i realized that these feet of mine really get in the way they are sticking out have to fold one way or another unless you're sleeping on your side otherwise they're sticking up putting stress on your ankles or they're pointing down also stress on the ankles it would be better to have detachable feet
My baby's been gone such painful days now
My babe is been gone, such painful days, now
I'm missing the ways he used to put me to the plow
That woman there with her eyes of silver and gold
There she is, that woman with eyes so silver so gold
Before the down payment's been made, you know she self sold
That oven's so new, from the WPA
Oven so new, from WPA
Real pretty, know what I say
The houses, all their blinds are down
Walking home, all the blinds down
Maybe now's the time to leave this town
January 13th, 2008
Friends, the date has finally been set. We've contacted the Minister, and he's agreed to marry us, and we are going to be married on
SEPTEMBER 7TH, 2008!!!
Doug is being awfully sweet about it all. He's practically moony about the whole thing! Now he's talking about a house, and he's talking names, and he's talking, oh heavens, who knows what else he's talking!
I feel very settled, friends; very, very, extremely settled. My whole life, my life with Doug, is out there ahead of me, sans detours sans turnoffs.
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Chapter the First
The donut shop was almost empty. It was late. The donutmonger was chatting on her cellphone. We'd been talking for hours, going over the same old stuff, again and again.
She said, "No, no, no, I'm not getting through to you. You're just not listening to me! I'm done with it. Done! I'm leaving now, and please don't follow me. Don't even call me. If I want to talk to you, I'll call you. That's it! Maybe in a year or two. Maybe never. Maybe."
A HOUSE DICTIONARY
What's that sound, that weird sound? It's so irregular, it sounds like it's coming from un the chimney, could it be the raccoons that live in it, have babies within it? It sounds pretty high up. There's a thump, like a rubber ball hitting a distant gymnasium floor. Then there's a flutter, like the ball has been dropped and it's bouncing to a stop. What a weird noise! What could they be doing in there?
It's still going on. I heard a big fight going on in there last night. Babies were crying.
It is a pretentious mirror. It is a very pretentious mirror.
It is a sheet of glass, backed with a mix of tin, silver, and copper. Around the edges is an inexpensive aluminum frame. It's three feet high and two feet across.
When an object is placed in front of it, you can look into the mirror and see it beyond the mirror, as if you're looking through a doorway pulling space inside out and into another room. And there's the object, indifferently.
But stand before it, and look. A thing is there, a thing as false as sight itself.
A HOUSE DICTIONARY
What's that sound, what's that weird sound? It's like it's coming from up on the floor above, over near the chimney, near the radiators, the radiators that are upstairs. We've been up there, we've bled those radiators, we did that when the heat came on again after it had been off all weekend. It's a thud, sometimes it's a multiple thud, like a ruler fluttered and drawn back on the side of a table. Does this mean the heat's going to be off again in the morning? This desolate house holds many mysteries.
Chapter the First
I looked at her carefully. We seemed to be talking at cross-purposes. The things she was saying, why, they had nothing to do with what we were discussing. I felt like I'd fallen through a hole in time. I felt like an old man, or perhaps a baby.
"Jane, I'm not sure you understand what I'm saying. I can't see how I can be so misconstrued. All I want to know is: How can a cup of hot chocolate cost four and a half dollars?"
19 January 2008
It's a matter of timing, my friends, all a matter of timing.
So, my little cubicle-mate is betrothed, is to be married, is going to wed a
A Doug, of all people!
I read between the lines, and find her mind there. Doug is happy, I believe her; but what about her?
She wants to see what others feel like in her; she doesn't want everything all laid out and snapped to with a pretty ribbon. She wants cake; but my icing first.
Easy pickings; as easy as reading a blog.
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Odd I miss her e'en though got a brand new bag now
Strange that I miss 'er, though got a bran' new bag now
Hole in my soul don't know got there somehow
Out sight is out mind, so the prophets say
Out of sight is out my mind, or so the wise man say
This change of heart it signifies a brand brand new day
Where she now, to finish my little rhyme
Where she got to now, wanna com-plete my little rhyme
But what she an' I did but once my girl and me now do plenty time
and then the next thing i thought about was hats and especially why men don't wear them much anymore and what it was like when they did what i was really wondering about and here you can see whence morning thoughts was if women in eighteen eighty would discuss the size of the hats of their betrothed men would they say jack certainly has a sizeable hat felicity and felicity would say yes it certainly is a few sizes larger that nate's hat and then the two buxom lasses would giggle and fall upon one another and practice kissing kissing
UNDERHEARD AT THE MEDIA LIBRARIANS' TABLE
How are you this evening?
There's someone waving. Is it at us? Does anyone know that woman?
How the cats are doing. I like napping a lot. There's no hope.
Strange seeing all of you here away from work. I fell we should be doing something. Or something.
I'm up to Season Three of
Uh, yeah, Kate, I know, but, you see, there's something, you don't really need to know, just forget about it.
I took aspirin, then some Neo Citron.
Oh. Look at the time. Time to go home.
Globe and Mail, 9 January 2009
The meeting of a street-meat cartel was violently disrupted yesterday during one of its planning sessions, during which all but one of its members were shot dead by the Toronto Multicultural Foods Militia (TMFM), said the survivor of the attack, in the latest battle engagement between the TMFM and the Force For Free Enterprise (FFFE).
John Filion, Majordomo of the TMFM, said at a rally last night, "We will massacre the scum on their street-corners, we will burn their carts out from below them!"
Denzil Minnan-Wong once again could not be reached for comment.
AFTER - RETURN - RELEASE - 2008
My hair is curly, reddish, rather red. It's not that long in this picture, but you can see it has potential. My eyes, as Yolanda said so long ago, are both green and blue, like the rings of Saturn. In the back is part of a building that goes up and up and down and down. These new passes are more sophisticated in some way, I'm not sure how, but I could find out. I know the people to ask. There I am, in a black-and-white checkerboard shirt. It's the same photograph, see.
NOTES TOWARD THE MAJOR MOTION PICTURE ADAPTATION OF 'THE MURDER HOUSE'
Make the music as creepy as possible and run it behind every scene from beginning to end like some Philip Glass monotony.
Make the stranger very tall but very ordinary. Give him a cheap orange cardigan.
Don't use shakycam. I
The coffee is subtly oil-looking.
He speaks slightly out of sync. Preferably earlier.
The map is written in Estonian.
The cat show up, is startled by something, runs away with a mysterious hiss.
There's no-one else on the street.
Both actors gaze two feet below the camera.
THEORY OF OBSCURITY
Some time later, I got the idea to tell about it here, since I hadn't used any true-to-life stories this month yet. Had it planned: 1) The problem. 2) The solution. Then I realized I'd floated the idea of showing him
Untitled Pornographic Full-length Feature Film, Starring Me,
at www.vif.com/users/johnskaife/Website/Eighth/070902-09.html, but if I did that, he might find his way over to what I'm writing right now, which I do not want to encourage him to read. Thus, I can't show him my script, however excellent it might be. The sacrifices one makes for art!
UNITED STATES POLITICS
LIBERALS: She's a woman. She's a woman. She's a woman. She's a woman. She's a woman. She's a woman. She's a woman. She's a woman. She's a woman. She's a woman. She's a woman. She's a woman. She's a woman. She's a woman. She's a woman. She's a woman. She's a woman.
CONSERVATIVE: She's a woman.
LIBERALS: You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist! You sexist!
Oh boy, you really think you've got me made?
Your twenty years of schooling, theses, tests,
Your deconstructions, think they me persuade?
You think you thralled me
O there you are, in post-grad seminar,
Composing sonnets to your horse or me,
Descripting on a comet or a star
As if I'm just another all-for-free!
If only you'd inscribe the things you know
and then I'd know your heart,
You'd find a better burrow for your plow
So please-please-please retire your feeble art!
Forget the things hearsays are powerful,
And put it simply: say I'm beautiful!
We've been working on our spells for so long, for as long as we can remember. Hazel says one of them will certainly work, will surely work. We can break through into their world, can't we, my dearies? The walls are thick, like they're made out of bricks,
But at night, when I'm just about asleep, when I can hear them scratching, scratching, scratching, I know they're trying to get through to me, a nose will peek out through the wall some day, and sharp teeth and claws'll be reaching for me, and they'll
rip my flesh.
Everything settled out over the next two months. He wound up dating J. while I decided to date D., mainly because he had a car. He and J. didn't last long, only about two months. I stuck with D. and his car.
Nevertheless, one day we were building sets together, cutting big circles out of plywood for risers. We were having fun. We went hunting for scrap wood in a storage space. We tossed pieces at one another. He chased me down the hall, playing. He kissed me for the second time.
I knew then I'd made a huge mistake.
Death is the cessation of animation in an
, almost exclusively caused by the removal of
and consequently the inactivity of the central pumping organ commonly known as the "heart" of the matter animate. After this point, the thing is no longer capable of responding to
or of behaving according to its pre-written
. The newly inanimate object can be referred to as the "
" of the object, which can now be consumed by animate objects. Some primitive
believe an insubstantial substance (note the
) survives the passing of the object.
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