Friday, December 30, 2005

She was a nimble cattle prod
void of cartoon audacity for a spoiled sunshine
Depressed by anvil parachutes
His labyrith tongue glazed
It was a dam anacids cooking slowly under ice stare

Shake me like the salt
running through my veins.
Drawing down the lines
navigate the maze

The cannons slept while penetrating
the abrupt horizon of a vacant child
She was a dripping handjob
from the widetoothed grin of a lion
Erroneous audacity drinking
an overflowing cup
icicles gripping the larnyx profile

Monday, December 26, 2005

"There is a certain misconception about stress I think. Alot of people think if you have a really hectic or otherwise complicated, pressuring career that you will be a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. When I was younger I used to see people on TV, the enemies so to speak and think to myself 'Man.. I bet those guys don't get any sleep, how can they live in constant peril?'. Truth is, we adapt, we cope with it - we're built to."


"You wouldn't believe how much you can do to a person, or a group of people for that matter, before they decide to fight back. It's all about the presentation. I live in constant fear for my life, I have many enemies as I've killed many people, but you know what? It really doesn't bother me all that much. I get up every morning and drink my coffee like the rest of you. We all have our jobs to do, we all report to someone; as long as you can report back to your moral code at the end of the day, then your personal choices are worth the paycheck, so to speak."


"I mean take today, its Christmas. I'll be working, most of the country won't be, but I will be. More deaths, a grain of salt on my conscious, but they do seem to add up after a while. They say the meaning of life is found somewhere in living it, but they don't say how long you have to go. Personally if I hear that a village was bombed I say hey, at least they got to life for a little while. People can be so greedy these days."


"I got my daughters some real expensive jewlery for Christmas. I felt Christ was with me during the purchase somehow; because of that I stand before you a man at peace on this festive day"


"Mr. President.. stop talking to your teddy and come with me please, I have some papers for you to sign"

"Well.. can I bring Mr. Wiggles?"

It's a genius concept really. Travel around to different places, contestants come on the show willingly, and free. All the places that the crew goes are complimentary because of the exposure they get through tv. I talk of none other than the compliment to the 4am Springer, Povich combo, I talk of Elimidate.

On this particular date I stood leaning against the wall in the living room in of the house of one 'Jeremy Shutter' watching the events transpire infront of me. The basic premise of the show is that 1 person (usually a guy) is surrounded by the opposite sex on a series of date type scenarios, with the person in question eliminating one of them after each location. In this particular shithole of a town we had such a hard time finding a guy willing to be on the show, that we eventually agreed that we would come to Jeremy's house and have the girls help him with some of the household repairs he needed done. We put a 'girls at work' theme on it, but the whole thing is was fucking sad, too sad to even laugh at.

Jeremy was a physically appealing guy, they usually are. Like the others he seemed to be slightly out of phase with reality. This guy lives alone in a fairly big, yet rundown house. He seems to have some money, but no friends. It's truly an odd feeling, being in the presence of someone who has literally been molded by the media, and the media alone; I suppose this is why they work so well for tv. I can spot them a mile away. They can't even admit it to themselves, but deep down they all feel like after doing the show they might receive a call from some agent saying "Hey kid, I like your style"

I studied the women I had picked out, as with the men, I usually choose the 4 women according to a certain criteria. It varies, but I usually end with a combo of self absorbed, passive, crazy, and regular. Time and time again self absorbed and crazy will pick on passive and she will be eliminated first due to 'lack of personality'. Then crazy and regular will criticize self absorded, but self absorbed is normally hot enough to withstand with bombardment and crazy is eliminated for.. well, being crazy. And so, finally we end up with self absorbed and regular - one time in ten the guy will choose regular. It's almost like a science, this night would be no different. Same dissolusioned dreams.

I think it was when one of the girls held up the paint roller she had been using in a threat to 'paint' one of the other girls that I truly lost control. "Put down the fucking paint roller" I screamed at 'Trish'. The rest of the crew turned to look at me like I was mad, this type of behavior was exactly what we tried to encourage on the show but I couldn't take it anymore. This insessant comedy taking place right before my eyes in an entirely different world and I couldn't turn it off. I have to tune in whether I wanted to or not; every trip might as well have been to the streets to videotape crackheads.

And yet I feel like I'm the one who is being watched, as I read this now it is my life that comes across as sounding worse. As I sit there, late at night watching the footage taking place within the confines of our staff tv, I can't help but to begin to see a frame around my head.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

“And contestant number 4 begins to type on the computer, yet again!”

“Not only that Tim, but it’s at quarter to 7 in the morning! I mean he would long be asleep by now!”

I sat there, trying to ignore the commentary; it seemed to penetrate the layer of deception I had draped over my body. How had they found me? I wondered as the words seem to come out on their own, “Listen, why don’t you guys cut me a break? I don’t suppose it would be very nice for the viewers if I was boring, and had some regimented computer schedule.” I knew it was a mistake, but like I said the words just came out.

(aside) “That was NOT cool kid, you DO NOT talk to us you hear me?”

Fuck those guys, but I knew the rules, albeit even if I learned them after signing the contract. Talking was stupid, the crowd loves me subtle actions anyways. At least I assume. I tried to push them out of my mind as I looked back at the blank, white window with a flashing horizontal line in the upper left hand corner. The word processing program window was set against an ambiguous fractal wallpaper.

“And umm… We’re back folks. You’ll have to excuse contestant number 4, as he is under a lot of stress as you know; he has a big essay due”
“Yes, an existential essay Tim, and for you viewers out there who are wondering what that is, do not worry, it’s basically just an essay about getting out of dealing with anything. Just an example of the irony we present to you on a daily basis here on the network”

I rolled my eyes at this. “Ok” I said to myself, let’s just get this done. I ‘tisked’ my teeth at this as I thought about ‘just getting it done’. I mean, why should I really write this essay? It seems like this stress is worse than any arbitrary mark I could get. So long as I graduate, does it really matter how good my marks are, or I should say, is it really worth it to be ‘at the top’. It seems like a lot of a sacrifice, especially with something as subjective as this? How can you really put A LOT of effort into this essay over and beyond the regular continuity, and grammar checks? It is weird, working in this ‘looking forward’ mentality, while trying to write about the now, and the past.

“He seems to be having some trouble here folks; this thing could likely go down to the wire!”

Alright, the voices were right, I had to get started. I literally ripped whatever thought was passing by in my head, out of it, and threw it down on the page. I watched the thought writhe there on the electronic surface, raw and still alive, struggling to be free of the confines that come with a paper domain. The one thought became a couple as a proceeded to type away, but the more I exposed some of myself to the reality of the essay, the more the multiplying thoughts began to get out of control. It came to the point where they seemed about ready to grab a hold of my hands and pull me into the chaotic void from which they sprang; a suicide that would have no return for me. I slammed shut my notebook and stood up, beginning to pace about the room.

“Well this does not bode well for the contestant, what is he doing taking yet another break? He has a perfect track record so far in these events, but perhaps number 4 will be taking a his first fail of the season!”
“Perhaps Jim, he just might. I mean, there are two types of action in this world. There is productive action, and there is non productive action. Contestant 4 tends to do a little too much of the latter category, and I think that this time it may have got him in trouble. Winning the game is, after all, the main goal here.”

I paced my room, watching the cameras with a cold awareness of their existence. I could feel the eyes, on my skin, it was constant and irritating. Flattering and disgusting all at the same time, I figured I would have smashed one by now, but it wouldn’t do any good, they’d just replace it. Besides, it gave me a sort of a sense of purpose, after this long I think I would find it lonely without them there, watching and judging.

I think I need to get outside. I began to put on my jacket and shoes.

(aside) “Alright guys he’s on the move. This fucking kid, I swear he does this shit just to piss me off, I truly do not understand him, and I’ve known him his whole life”

I walked down my street slowly, though it still felt like I was trying to outrun the camera crew behind me. The feeling was illogical, as no matter how fast or slow I moved, they would find a way to stay the same distance away, just outside my perspective. Illogical or not, the feeling maintained. I found myself making my to the small park around the corner from my house, I also found a small smile creeping onto my face. It is an odd feeling going back to a place you can connect with ‘being a kid’. It’s almost like another world; everything seems smaller, even though you feel the same.

“Well folks, it seems as if the contestant has come to the park of all places, in an attempt to draw some inspiration, I’ll tell ya, things are not looking good for the young rookie”
“I agree Tim, I mean there are no books to read at the park!”

I sat down on a swing, and with the power of hindsight, set myself in motion. As I swung back and forth, and I had a thought about the good, and the seemingly quite harsh evils I experienced on a playground not unlike this one, back in my wonder years. Looking back, I am at the top of the swing, at the hinge, the potential. Each end of the crescent for the swing’s motion represents good and evil comparatively. Like the exercise of going for a swing, the consideration of good and evil in the world are useful fictions, much like as a child, swinging is a fine way to pass the time.

Yes, I liked this concept, I can work with this I thought as I hopped off the swing and headed back towards home, a small grin creeping its way across my face as I did so. I turned around to regard the camera crew for a second. It was still dark, the very early hours of the morning, so they had the lights going full blast. Sometimes I could actually feel the heat emanating from the small suns. With that thought I looked above those losers to the clear, shimmering night sky. The stars looked like distant crystal snowflakes, stuck there in the tar curvature of my infinite realm of perception. Most of them not even real, only the bibliography of a book long since read. These eyes peer down on our perspective, somehow outside of their own, stuck as a universal constant iris between existence and oblivion; the real cameras so to speak.

“Folks, it appears like the contestant has stopped, and it simply staring at the sky”
“Perhaps he’s praying for the essay to simply drop from the sky?!?”
(aside) “Seriously, Tim…what the fuck is he doing?”
“Folks, our tacticians have informed us that contestant 4 will, based on his previous experience, have about an 80% chance of failure to meet the word count deadline as of right now”

I could sense the confusion in the camera crew, so, to help them out I pointed to them, then pointed to the stars before turning and making my back to the house, where these dorks also reside, albeit in a different part.

___________ _____________ ______________

“Did you hear that?”
“I heard something”
“Check, is he in bed?”
“Yeah, looks like it. Camera light?”
“Nah, he probably just kicked the wall or something, that lanky kid”
“Alright so where were we? Oh yeah, so this weekend I’m thinking of going after that brunette, you know the one I always tell you about. I’ve done the rest of her friends, she’ll give into my charms”
“Why don’t you just get a steady girlfriend? I mean doesn’t this cost you a fair amount of money, going out all the time?”

___________ _____________ ______________

“Well folks, here we are on the deadline, and we have what appears to be a strange turn of events”
“Yes Tim, we know that contestant 4 went to sleep last night, having not completed the essay, but yet he seems to be getting ready to leave anyways. Perhaps he has thought of an excuse he thinks will stand up to the professor’s inquiry."

It is not that I am proud of myself, like I said, I distain the cameras half of the time. I thought, walking to class. Rather, it is the desire to demonstrate, to show my personality. Words are tricky so I prefer action. I walked into the educational building and make my way to class. Walking down the aisle I realized that there can be no showing off, no fame, there is only action. The rest are, like good and evil, completion or negation, simply illusions, albeit useful ones. It was with this in mind that I reached into my bag and pulled out the video tape I handed to my professor.