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JUMPING DEATH AT THE FALLS
Sightseers at Plate Rock were stunned today by the sight of a distraught young woman running to the railing and leaping over into the fast current just fifty feet from the precipice of the Horseshoe Falls.
Witnesses recounted that the woman went over the falls, and to her death, without making a single sound.
Unconfirmed reports indicate that the young woman, as she travelled via a local bus down to Plate Rock, was repeating to herself
, "Everyone comes to see the falls, but no-one ever comes to see
When I was five, I was taken to Disneyworld. We went to The Haunted Mansion. In it, there was a mirror in which you could see that there was a ghost, all in white lace, right beside you.
We drove back from California. For the whole trip, I was looking beside me, looking for the ghost that was sitting beside me.
I don't know when I stopped believing there was a ghost right beside me.
Now I'm older and more reasonable, logical.
It is far more likely than then, that a ghost has followed me home from a holiday.
I went back to the town I was born in because I wanted to see the place I was born at.
The town have changed beyond recognition. I didn't see anything familiar. Where was my old house? Where was the hospital?
I realized they'd changed the layout of all the streets. They were now all in squares. I asked some guy, "What happened to the circles?"
"This town used to be laid out in circles. Every block was a circle."
"That's geometrically impossible."
"The circles bent along their elevations."
"...Nope, it's still impossible."
"It wasn't impossible, not back then."
Let me tell a little story
Plagiarism is what it's of
About my stolen name plus my life
He's at my job and says his name is John
He stole the name I use, answ'ring that naming,
But I held that name before he got the job
And lawsuits, thousands, I will try.
He can cook a tale
He can blame his dad
But I was here before him
With that name.
He's contagious with his stolen name
He's a stealer
He's not original
I am sending Alan Dershowitz a fax
I'll sue that motherfucker til he's dead.
It's been plaguing me. Last week I had an idea for a story. However, I'd gotten a different idea, about a day later, because of a dream, and at the time the dream story seemed stronger, and so I wrote down that one. (The robbery story, which of course it turned out brilliantly.) But for the last dozen hours I've tried to remember the plot of the story I have not written, but I'm coming up bupkis. Not that it would have made a good long story, but I want the memory back. I want it back! (It seemed workable.)
Dr. Dector's took off his glasses but the figures in his accounts didn't change. There simply wasn't enough money for next month's holiday plans. He knew the kids wouldn't settle for bus travel and a motel. There was only one way.
"Hello, John? This is Dr. Dector. Fine, fine. So listen, I've been thinking about that bit of decay on that molar of yours. I think we'd better have another look at it. Maybe you should think about a cap there, too, because there's not too left of the tooth. Don't want to take it completely out, now do we?"
We are continuing our telediscussion with representatives of the distant planet Qdl (roughly translated, "Nebbish.") Currently, we are focussing on describing our respective scientific histories. They tell us about their greatest advance in cosmology. Up until their seventeenth century, they believed their planet revolved around their moon. Then, an astronomer demonstrated that this belief was wrong. Using relative geometry, he showed that the moon, against all evidence, actually went around their planet. Their concepts of themselves were shaken to their cores.
"It was a revolutionary discovery," our correspondents telecommunicate. "I mean, who'd have thought anything could ever revolve around
I'm gentle and I'm rough.
I'm positive and I'm negative.
I'm here and I'm there.
I'm Beatles and I'm Stones.
I'm sun and I'm moon.
I'm good and I'm evil.
I'm red and I'm black.
I'm moving and I'm still.
I'm happy and I'm sad.
I'm simple and I'm simpler.
I'm left and I'm right.
I'm dead and I'm alive.
I'm complete and I'm incomplete.
I'm bad and I'm good.
I'm repetitive and I'm singular.
I'm verse and I'm prose.
I'm drunk and I'm sober.
I'm troubled and I'm serene.
I'm thick and I'm thin.
I'm gentle and I'm rough.
[Family Poverty--The First Job--On the Run]
Coming up on our left was a Florida 'novelty' motel called the Moatsview. Each cabin was surrounded by--you guessed it--a moat, each about thirty foot across. Ma cried, 'The Hell with it!' and turned sharply left. Our Ford went down the bank of a moat and in. Turned out the moat was only about two foot deep. I never did find out if Ma knew beforehand the water was so shallow. We grabbed our wet bags and split up.
['The Old Pirate'--Prison/Prison Break--The Big One--Steve--Family Happiness]
PROTS GO APESHIT
Protestants worldwide have gone totally apeshit about Pope Benedict XVI's recent declaration that Protestant churches are defective because they are out of apostolic succession.
Today, several dozen Toronto Protestants gathered in front of St. Michael's Cathedral and went apeshit.
"We're troubled," said one apeshit Protestant. "We're holding a bake-sale in protest."
In Geneva, about a hundred apeshit Protestants held hands, prayed, and ate pancakes. "We're madder than we look."
Swiss moderate Arabs approached the apeshit Protestants to ask if they would like to join in a plot to behead the Pope. The Protestants said, "No, thank you."
The bell jingled limply as Michael entered the shack. He peered through the gloom for signs of life; and settled for an old man asleep on a wicker chair.
Michael barked, "Hello?"
The old man woke up. "Hello, young feller!"
"I came about the washboard."
"Eh? Oh, the warshboards! Gimme a jiffy."
The man dug out two washboards.
Michael asked, "What's their tuning?"
"Range? Why, BVDs and up, I reckon."
Michael strummed the birch, then the galvanic.
"I'll take 'em."
"Got a lotta warshin' to do?"
. How much?"
"Fer you? A grand a-piece!"
DAVID, ON CHRISTINA
I can't believe she's doing this. How could she leave me like this? I feel so betrayed. After all I've done for her. After all I've done for her. Room bed and board for eighteen years, and now she's decided it's time to leave. What did I ever do wrong? I did nothing wrong!... but she's leaving anyway. She wants to be free. Free! How could she be more free than here? That room--that one--will be empty, dusty. I feel sick. Bereft. Abandoned. I feel sick. There's got to be more vodka around here someplace.
Two deer are going through the forest, foraging as they go. Then up ahead they see this hedgehog.
First deer says, "Let's not go that way."
Second deer says, "What? There's some good shrubs over there."
"Please, let's not."
"Why, what's up?"
"That hedgehog. She freaks me out."
"She's just some hedgehog."
"Yeah, but I know her, and she like totally freaks me out."
"What, she gonna kill you?"
"Feels like it, or something like it. C'mon, be a bud, let's go that way instead."
"That way's a swamp."
"Okay, then let's go that way."
It was quite a shock and resulting in glass shards amongst bare feet there was the sound of a beer bottle smashing on patio stone as dropped by Ian a beer bottle was, and backwards going were the words son my actually is brother my brother my isn't Paul, and so my parents were away and so I thought I'd have a party and she had a little brother but so what? and she was off with Conklin, as a carny, for a year, and she was in the chorus of The Music Man,
Talk a little,
Pick a little....
Mary and Bob and I went to see
Spirit of the Beehive.
And I remembered one winter when Oshawa had a lot of snow. Just north of Adelaide and Harmony there's a creek running parallel to Harmony. The drifts on the steepest edge of the creek were around twenty feet deep and fifteen feet across. So, one day, a whole bunch of us kids dug a network of tunnels in the snow, with holes leading in both from above and from the side. The walls glowed with sun through snow.
Jesus, one of us could so easily have been killed!
Some call it,
getting violently ill
Others know it as
getting violently ill at a streetcar stop
Still others call it,
getting violently ill at a streetcar stop at eight in the morning in front of a pretty girl
and possibly splashing her
Some refer to it as
puking your guts out in front of everybody at a streetcar stop, but that's not the worst part
Some use medical terms. Good for them.
Some call it,
having it coming out at both ends
Some say throwing away newish underwear is something that happens to everybody sooner or later.
So, as you know, I,
, was sick yesterday. Today I went to work even though I wasn't feeling alright atall.
I said hello to Beatrice, of course. She was wearing a light purple cotton blouse and a black skirt down to her calves and canvas shoes. I stood there and told her about my sickness. She said she wasn't feeling good either; maybe we had the same thing.
I said, "Wow, you're sick too." I moved a half centimetre closer to her. "I guess we should be ... in bed."
She laughed, then said, "I
hope you're kidding."
For centuries, men have puzzled over the problem of the doubling of the circle. How can one create a circle that has exactly twice the area of any given circle?
The proper answer comes about by solving the opposite problem. Solve that problem, and its contrary will become immediately apparent.
Take a circle and divide it into an infinity of parts. Then fold each part lengthwise. Re-assemble the infinity of parts, and there you will have a circle of exactly half the area of the given circle.
(I could prove this symbolically, but I fear I have not the spacetime.)
I know it's down here somewhere. I can smell it, it's driving me crazy, where is it?
Buried in this garbage dump of discarded things and natural growth and mold and rot, I KNOW it's here....
This isn't going to work this way, I need a better way.
I claw because I can smell it, it's down here, I don't care how deep it is, I'll
Stronger smell among this pile of rot here, I'm on track....
Eureka! I have found it!
July 19, 2007!
"Only connect," he said, cruising High Park.
Reader: In how many chairs have you sat?
wearing stinky clothing; girls don't.
In the spirit of Live Earth, I am holding a celebrity hotdog eating contest to raise awareness of African famine.
The entry for the eighth is entitled, "BABY'S FIRST BATCH EDIT."
LOST: $1,000 n smll unmrkd blls. Sm bldstns.
Of the people we told about the Niagara Falls suicide, three had complete sympathy with the girl. They were homosexual men.
I'm gonna kill you so much ... at the end of it ... you'll be dead!
AIRPORT UP TO TRURO
Except Authorized Vehicles
Commercial Land For Sale
Lawrence House Museum
One Great Place, Two Great Tastes
National Truss Span
Keep Right Except to Pass
Riverrun Golf Club
Closscap Basket Shop
Super 8 Motel
We're Your Atlantic Canadian Team!
Right Lane Must Exit
16TH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
Old heads dominate in this the St. Mary's Church in Mabou, five miles from the adits that lead underneath the sea. Coal washes up onto the shore. Today's NT reading concerns Jesus, Mary, and Martha, yet another tale in which the Christ comes off looking decidedly egotistical. I wonder if Ordinary Time is related to ordination. Second time in this church, second time writing from here, fifth in a series that will run to twenty-three, my mother's seventy-fifth birthday, from noon to two - Community Hall roast beef.
Wheels within wheels within a wheel.
There's an Irish-looking gentleman sitting on a bench on the grounds of the Glenora distillery. He's writing in a small notebook. He writes a couple words, looks up pensively, writes another word, looks up, again and again.
She says, "Look at that man."
I say, "I already am."
"He looks to be writing Poetry."
"He does seem to be doing just that."
"Careful with his words."
"Such is the nature of the poetical."
"I wonder if he's famous."
"That makes no difference."
"'The unelected legislators of the world.'"
Our crows don't know,
Beaks agape, mouthbreathers all,
They're famous in British poetry;
They're not aware they've been interrogated
At the door of the womb. (Do they?)
Does Raskolnikov ever reflect,
As he thinks of the iron pistol,
He's in the heads of teens;
That his Napoleonic nihilism
Influenced Thomas Pynchon in an oblique way? (Does he?)
Subjects are not merely objects pulled
Inside out and turned
To face backwards.
And in what sense can I
Be said to know the nag
I feed with ohs;
Am I a book for carrying
A distant thing much nearer? (Am I?)
If I am ever kidnapped by space aliens and forced under raygun fire to account for the mysteries of interstellar vacationing, I think I will begin my dissertation like this:
Why are all the most interesting things in any given locale essentially invisible to the local population? The Alpha Centauri lad, newly greenbearded and eager to know the ways of the worlds, could not be caught dead at the Pink Glacier, despite its magical properties. Indeed, the only visitors to that fabled peak mainly come from Rigel Seven, on deep-discount travel voucher trips. Why is that?
And so on.
An hour ago, down here on this empty shore, I was lying back, ready to write. I sensed someone nearby, and looked. It was a beautiful shapely blonde girl, 'round about nineteen. She looked at me and smiled. I smiled back.
She kicked off her shoes, pulled off her shirt (revealing a bikini top), undid her shorts and slipped out of them. She paused, then unhooked her bikini top and tossed it aside. She slipped off the bottoms. She was nicely naked. She came over and sat on me, thighs to collarbone.
She said, "Hello, Hero of the Beach."
"Shit, man, let's steal us some stuff, some
, let's steal us some
Rodney McAlister grinned wide. "Yeah, man, that sounds cool. Maybe we can get us a couple those
chairs, you know? the ones with the little
holders on the left
"Shit, man, we're talkin' the same
Woo-hoo, if'n only the guys back home could see us now, plannin' such wicked stuff!"
"Man, we're, like, gangsters or stuff!"
"You be Biggie, I'll be 2pac!"
"This town don't know what they's was up to when they oped the gates to us!"
All I wanted to do was go for a nice peaceful swim. That was all, really! But down at the beach, there's this guy down there, and he's
at me, sideways like, more or less. And he's looking at me as I take off my shirt (revealing a bikini top) and my shorts. So I figure, what the hell? and I continue, and get altogether naked. He nearly dropped his pencil.
I headed into the water, oh, and it feels so nice, the water on my bare tits and ass.
He's gone when I swim back in.
Let us let Alexis lease Alex's Lexus. Let us let Alexis lease Alex's Lexus. Let us let Alexis lease Alex's Lexus. Let us let Alexis lease Alex's Lexus. Let us let Alexis lease Alex's Lexus. Let us let Alexis lease Alex's Lexus. Let us let Alexis lease Alex's Lexus. Let us let Alexis lease Alex's Lexus. Let us let Alexis lease Alex's Lexus. Let us let Alexis lease Alex's Lexus. Let us let Alexis lease Alex's Lexus. Let us let Alexis lease Alex's Lexus. Let us let Alexis lease Alex's Lexus. Let us let Alexis lease Alex's Lexus.
Yesterday's weather we predict will have been mainly rainy in the morning, approximately 3.659 centimetres as a rough average, overall and in general, with a clearing starting around 1:17. The humidex will have hovered at 28 or so, and the winds will have been light, first from the south, then from the south-southeast, then strong from the east.
In sports, the Seatlle Mariners will be meeting the Toronto Blue Jays this afternoon. The Jays will show some spirit in the eighth, though the final score will be 7-6, Mariners.
Long-term precast sees Saturday and Friday as lovely.
And that's how I wound up, naked as the day I was born, in the parking lot of the Antigonish mall.
After all I'd been through, I found it quite easy to behave as if I was clothed. I went into Zellers, to the men's department, sundries and undies. I slipped on a pair of boxers, then went in search of pants. Pants found, a shirt soon followed, then socks, then shoes.
I proceeded to the checkout. I handed to her the pricetags. She asked, "Will that be cash, credit, or debit?"
I do not recall what happened next.
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