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Date:         Sun, 24 Dec 2006 15:16:51 -0800
Reply-To:     Nathaniel Poole <npoole@TELUS.NET>
Sender:       Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@gerry.vanagon.com>
From:         Nathaniel Poole <npoole@TELUS.NET>
Subject:      Re: Writers aren't artists
In-Reply-To:  <6B491092-A60C-40DE-8BC9-6730EF51FBE8@knology.net>
Content-type: text/plain; charset="ISO-8859-1"

³You shall be late,² the Monkey says from his chair in the corner, pulling on a cigar the colour and shape of a cat turd. His legs are crossed and he gives an air of insouciant amusement. A cloud of smoke drifts towards the ceiling. ³He really doesnıt want to go,² pipes the Tin of Frisky Bits cat food from its place on the counter. ³Or he wouldnıt still be here. All behaviour has meaning,² it says, quoting someone whom it could not recall. ³Pipe down,² Jonathan snaps, trying yet again to tie his loincloth. ³Youıre going like that?² enquires the Monkey with a raised eyebrow. My word; itıs cold out you know. And as if in agreement the window rattles in itıs tattered and peeling sash, a few flakes of snow ghosting across the fogged glass. ³Itıs all part of the process of enlightenment,² says Jonathan rather stiffly. Endurance, dissociation, letting go. Cold is nothing.² ³Well actuallyŠ² begins the affable Tin. ³Not now!² snaps Jonathan. There is a sudden pounding on the door. Everyone falls silent, the monkey and the Tin giving each other knowing glances. ³Who could that be? says Jonathan, moving towards the door. His loincloth is still not wrapped tight enough and he holds it up with one hand. ³Donıt open it!² cries the Tin. ³It could be a can opener.² ³Or a vivisectionist!² says the monkey. Together they set up a bawling clamour. Jonathan plugs one ear against the noise and reaches for the doorknob. Just as he swings it open the loincloth collapses to the floor with a satisfied, cotton sigh. ³Yo, get a load of that!² says the hammer, whistling ³If I had known, I woulda brought flowers.² ³Dignity is an illusion,² replies Jonathan, bending down and lifting the perfidious cloth. ³Oh, my, the evil eye,² chuckles the Monkey. ³Pray, do us a favour and turn the other way, old chap. Thereıs a good fellow. Frisky is positively rattling with embarrassment.² Indeed, the Tin had almost vibrated off the counter, resulting in a fall that might have dented its shiny, flawless edge. ³May I help you?² asks Jonathan as the hammer pushes its way into the barren, water-stained room. ³I doubt it,² replies the hammer. Œ²Wow, what a dump. You mightıve done something with the place if you knew you were having company, sport.² ³Possessions enslave humanity,² says Tin. ³Our houses are such unwieldy property that we are often imprisoned rather than housed in them.² ³Yeah whatever, doll. You know, if you brought in a few stoned Goth chicks this place could at least be funky.² ³What do you want?² says Jonathan, his face reddening and thinking to himself, the Sufi shall not get pissed, the Sufi shall not get pissed. ³You called me, remember, dude ­hey, thereıs a monkey in here.² ³I called you?² ³Does it do tricks? I bet it craps all over the place.² ³I beg your pardon,² the Monkey replies, offended. ³I use the facilities as any civilized person would.² A silence falls on the party. ³I didnıt call you.² Jonathan says slowly. The hammer turns to Jonathan. ³No? When was the last time you talked to a hammer?² ³WellŠ² ³Not too bright are you? Say, you on crack? Is this guy a tweaker?² he asks the monkey.² ³I sayŠ² ³That was just mediation,² Jonathan stammers. I didnıt mean forŠ² ³Well you did it, sport. And Iım the prize, the gold medal, the basket of fruit from the boss, the sister-in-lawıs tongue in your mouth at New Years. Give yourself a hand.² ³You most certainly are going to be late,² interrupts the Monkey. ³Oh hell, says Jonathan tying his loincloth. Anyone see my fedora?² ³Time is relative,² chimed the Tin. ³Whatıs the rush?² asks the hammer. The monkey scratches himself. ³Heıs got a Yogic Flying conference to attend, but heıs beastly late,² ³No kidding,² says the hammer. ³Well, I wouldnıt worry about it if I were you.² Jonathan places his hat on his balding head. ³Why,² he asks. ³Worldıs gonna end.² ³What?² ³Yup.² Heard it from the dumpster in the alleyway. Hears all kind of stuff from all the crap that gets thrown in there. Youıve really woke this building up, you know.² ³I have? Wow ­ hey, the world canıt end!² ³ŒFraid so, Einstein.² Big American military-industrial complex experiment thing. Privately bankrolled by Microsoft and Frito-Lay. The thinking goes that if you destroy the world itıll give the Chinese second thoughts about becoming the next world power. Got some bright sparks down there, fer sure.² ³I donıt believe it. What does a dumpster know.² ³Why? ³Just Œcause heıs not 90% water and doesnıt subscribe to pony fetish mags? He got the scoop from a senatorıs condom. Dude has a girl on the seventh floor. Poly-sci grad student.² ³But this is terrible! Those magazines are just researchŠno, no, no,² Jonathan shakes his head. ³When is this supposed to happen?² ³Sometime in the next few days. Donıt really matter tho, a day here a day there. Dance like thereıs no tomorrow. Hows about it Tinsy, youınıme get it on, on last bang before the big one drops?² ³But this is impossible!² Jonathan shouts. ³We must stop this travesty!² ³Yeah? how so?² ³I donıt know, but whoıs with me?² Who?² The Monkey stubs out his cigar and stares at him. ³Count me in, Jonathan.² Tin shrugs, Now, later, makes little difference to me, but I could use a change. Although I recognise change is a subjective response toŠ² ³Well I ainıt hanging around this dump waiting to get humped by no rat buzzed on meth, says the hammer. But before we go, one thing, dude,² ³What, what?² ³Get a brazilian or change outta that diaper. Yer puttinı me off my feed.²

> > > On Dec 24, 2006, at 11:19 AM, Nathaniel Poole wrote: > >> On 12/24/06 10:34 AM, "Joy Hecht" <jhecht@ALUM.MIT.EDU> wrote: >> >>> Yeah, and writing, though I don't quite think of that as artsy. >> >> >> WHHHAT? I don't know whether to have an attack of the vapours and >> faint or >> fall on the floor laughing maniacally and foaming at the mouth. :) >> >> But I think the best enlightenment I can offer is an assignment. >> Write a two >> page story that must contain a monkey, a hammer, a naked fakir in a >> seedy >> Winnipeg hotel room, and a talking, philosophical cat food can. >> >> Due by boxing day. Lets see what ya got. >> >> Nathaniel >> >


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