OPTIONAL RULE #3:

Trust not tribulations.

Rather, have faith in the zoned-out gaze, the day spent doing not-a-goddamn-thing, and the wander-without-evident-purpose.

LABYRINTHINE TOOL.

 

HUMPDAY THINGS I LIKE #6:

The Cosmic Theater is wide open, today.

No walls, no ceiling, no floor, just a painful, unavoidable light.

Is it a fucking sun?

May as well be.

A voice from the past . . .

I started in the theater because I thought it would be a way to impact the world, but it was already a world unto itself. When I would walk the city streets outside of this hermetically sealed reality, I felt a strange desire to just keep on walking. I was intoxicated by the grime and the grind that you could never hope to capture inside a corny damn proscenium frame-up. Try staging a play about the pitiless system of the city with all the pain and blood and shit and badges and piss and puke and money and cum and screaming intact. The ancient pale motherfuckers who endow everything would die from truth contact. Don't even try, friend, best just to drink 'til you vomit, and then use little plastic army men to stage Richard III in the sick. That way, at least you keep your integrity. I didn't really have any desire to return to the theater, which had no interest, really, in what existed outside of itself. You would think that playwrights would be looking out their windows for inspiration, but even if this was sometimes the case-and I think it was-the sealed-off reality inevitably had its way with whatever crossed its boundaries. Mostly, this was a process of sanitation, simplification, and ritualization, which sounds like some sophisticated shit, right? You can't just have unbridled chaos take the stage. Three Act Structure Prevails. There's a rule about that somewhere, right? And you definitely have to clamp down on the rate at which new works are permitted to filter into the theater-there must be Revered Classics, dammit! We're going to break new ground with this revival of Streetcar! Of course, everybody always says, "Nobody beats Brando!" Even young fucks who don't even know who Marlon Brando is still say, "Brando did it better." Ritual Units of Expression Prevail. I tried to change it up. I tried to be the change I desired in the world. When I directed Streetcar I cast the helicopter from Miss Saigon as Stanley Kowalski-oh, it was a big damn mess. I should never have attempted it. Young fucks were like, "Transformers did it better." Hey, this deep into Post-Literacy I'll take what I can get. 

Walls, floor, ceiling reassert themselves.

The blazing painful light is totally blotted out.

Just outside this box we hear that voice from the past chattering away . . .

BURNING QUESTIONS IN A UNIVERSE OF MYSTERY #10:

Why meditate when you could just take an actual nap?

ANCILLARY PRODUCTS #3:

The staggering number of commercials for CYBER MONDAY bullshit airing after CYBER MONDAY has ended will no doubt spur rapid growth in time travel research and development as these out-of-date commercials increase FOMO levels inside people's brain chemistry. Basically, all the people who missed out on CYBER MONDAY and who never really gave much thought to time travel are suddenly thinking very seriously about how to go back in time. And the fact that all these silly CYBER MONDAY commercials are still airing-well, that's gonna push people to a crisis point. 'Cause folks will suddenly realize, "Hey, this isn't the first CYBER MONDAY I've missed. I've missed a lot of 'em. A fuck ton by a back-of-the-envelope calculation. But if I had a time machine it would be pretty easy to zip back along the timeline and experience ALL the CYBER MONDAYs. So that's why I'm gonna support only pro-time travel causes, politicians, and human experimentation initiatives." This sentiment will no doubt spread like wildfire, until all governments buckle under citizen pressure, and have no choice but to invest all of the tax dollars in making time travel happen. CYBER MONDAY. It isn't just a scammy bullshit marketing thing. It's also the Mom and/or Dad of time travel.

JUMP BEING.

 

THE NEW DREAM #7:

i tell you

i just want a place

for my dog to shit

preferably public slash institutional slash government property

somewhere in the vicinity of the county courthouse

if a judge stepped in it, that would be fine

also the campus of a state university would work for me

i

my small self

i really get off on some humanities professor tracking turd all over the place

so long as it's on the public's dime

that's the most important detail of this dream

oh, oh, oh

and the big finale

that's important, too,

it's actually

if i'm honest

the only part that's worth a damn

that's worth sharing from the dream

which is mostly endlessly winding corridor traversals with a moderate lift sensation to it like i'm manifesting a smooth-ass hover effect

but all that's tedious-as-fuck to describe even if it feels awesome

just go play Rez or the original Doom 

-so, i'll just skip to the Big Finale

the part worth telling

because that's where the authorities get to have their worthless say

by holding my ass to account by a kind of outdoor kangaroo court

which i laugh to scorn

by picking up my dog and squeezing it so it shotguns doodoo all over the place,

which is a great scene, by the way-

but they think

at first

that they're putting me in my place

that they got some kinda power over me

and they've got everybody

the University President

the board of regents

got the gray haired ancients who endow everything

the campus police are all lined up, ready for action with all their phony macho posturing 'cause they know they're not real cops

you've got research sociologists and anthropologists documenting the big confrontation

there's the team from the evening news

you've got silly ass student protesters who still have ideals and shit

and a bunch of slimy College Republicans

and some apolitical students there recording everything for ass kissy extra credit assignments just to please teacher

and here I am

the focus of everybody's attention

the big fuckin' deal of the moment

and my dog is just shittin' away

shittin' all over every last surface

it's impressive

and everybody's so mad

so worked up

they're all shouting at me,

"HOW DARE YOU! THIS IS AN AFFRONT TO DECENCY! THIS IS A STAIN ON CAPITALISM! THIS IS THE FINAL DEGRADATION OF AMERICAN CULTURE! SOMEBODY PASS LOCAL REGULATIONS! QUICK, WE NEED FEDERAL LEGISLATION! NO, NO, WE MUST ABOLISH GOVERNMENT BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT GOT US INTO THIS MESS! LET'S ALL SMOKE LEGAL WEED! WE NEED THE SPECIAL WEAPONS AND TACTICS TEAM TO TAKE OVER! I MISS BEING IN HIGH SCHOOL! I WATCH MOVIES ON MY PHONE! IF YOU DON'T CLEAN UP ALL THIS DOGSHIT WE'LL PULL YOUR FUNDING! ZERO STARS! SNACKS WILL NOT BE PROVIDED! THIS IS TERRIFIC PODGRIFT MATERIAL! IF A DOG CAN JUST SHIT ANYWHERE AT ALL THEN THAT'S BASICALLY A SIGN OF THE APOCALYPSE! FOUR STARS!"

oh, it's a regular riot scene

everybody's gettin' so worked up

they lose their balance

start slippin' and fallin' in the dogshit

and then it gets artsy

everyone rips off their clothes, starts rubbing dogshit all over their bodies, they launch into modern dance motifs

-frankly, i didn't like this part

it was like some artsy movie

like i don't like that

when i go to the movies

i want to feel like the people on the screen are there to serve me

not like i'm there to revere some egotist big shit movie fuck

i hate that shit

like with Ingmar Bergman? or Akira Kurosawa? or David Lynch?

fuck those guys

me buying a ticket pays for your ass, motherfuckers, you ought to be worshipping me, worshipping every last penny i spent on your dreary exercises in masturbatory self-regard,

i mean

if i really wanted to

i could do a YouTube video essay about how much you all suck

burn all of your shit down forever

so get out of my face with this art shit, motherfuckers,

but

uh

in my dogshit dream

okay

it started getting super artsy-fartsy

which was no good

because

i felt myself fading

that spotlight started to dim

megashitting dogs started chewing their way out of people's torsos and mouths and rectums and what have you

like everyone had a "dog within" just waiting to get out

which i thought was stupid

my own little dog was eaten by one of the impotent campus cops, which i did not appreciate

so I started shitting on everything and everyone

like

the Big Me

the Big Self

the version of me you pay extra for at the drive thru that comes with fries and shake

the Big I

it-

i mean I-

finally showed up to teach everyone and everything how to take a proper fat shit

that

i dunno

i guess

like

that proper fat shit was so

just

massive

it

like

fucked up the gravity or something

'cause now we are all

and i mean everything

are drawn into orbit around the proper fat shit i just took

this part was kinda cool and kinda stupid at the same time

like i like a cool special effects sequence

but it just

it just got so massive at the end

it was no longer about me

it was my fuckin' dream to start with

but now i'm just obliterated along with everyone and everything else

that proper fat shit just uproots the whole surface of the planet

a clean scrape

and slingshots away out into space

well,

y'know

you gotta have a big action finale

i guess

i guess

i'll live

i'll have other dreams

it's fine

-it just got so stupid

when it was just supposed to be a simple dream

i dunno

i'm over it, now, but i was all fucked-up about it for awhile

OPTIONAL RULE #2:

A bribe is always the best bid. 

And the bigger the bribe, the bestier it gets.

SINCE YOU DIDN'T ASK #6:

. . . you have to be careful when you order cyber-coffee in cyberspace and you maneuver your virtual avatar into position to pour the cyber-creamer. You see, cyber-creamer is basically just a concept. Concepts are slippery. They can slide all kinda ways, especially in cyberspace. Cyber-existence can be perilous in its slippery aspects. So, whenever you start to pour that cyber-creamer there always exists the possibility that it could slip'n'slide into becoming Cyber-Creamer, the famous superhacker outlaw notorious for "creaming fools" on the Web. Now, in a blink, you're among the ranks of the "freshly creamed." Harsh realm, my friend, if you're not on your guard. So, just be careful how you handle that cyber-creamer!

BONUS: Cyberspace is the slipperiest place you can be, for it is also possible that YOU could slip'n'slide into the role of cyber-creamer-feel the flow as you're poured into that hot coffee-or Cyber-Creamer-now you're creaming with power! Fool-creaming power! So, be on your guard . . . but why not embrace unexpected metamorphosis now and again?

HERE I AM ALL OVER THE PLACE.

BURNING QUESTIONS IN A UNIVERSE OF MYSTERY #9:

So, am I really supposed to believe that CNN didn't have at least one spare Cuomo in cryostorage? Really?! 

What kind of operation are they running over there?

Jesus, people . . .

Shakes head sadly, makes a real production out of it.

ANCILLARY PRODUCTS #2:

Eight years of Bush/Cheney gave the world an intrusive global surveillance regime, state-sanctioned torture, endless war, and the destruction of countless innocent lives in Iraq, but at least that George W. Bush soundboard made for fun prank calls. 

It's something to remember fondly, I think.

BENIGN AND/OR INANE CONSPIRACIES #3:

Q: You know why they play the shitty Christmas music so loud at the chain coffee beverage shop?

A: To cover the thunder of coffee farts, obviously. Naturally, the fragrance is no problem. It is a coffee beverage shop. Of course it smells of coffee-derivative products.

SINCE YOU DIDN'T ASK #5:

. . . it's not that I never take creamer or sugar with my coffee, okay, it's just not my overall preference. But I'm not rigid in these matters. For example, when I'm in cyberspace I am obviously obliged to drink cyber-coffee. And, let it be known, cyber-creamer is surprisingly good. Therefore, I take cyber-creamer with my cyber-coffee. 

But cyber-sugar is right out, never touch the stuff. It's all wrong. 

BONUS: Cyber-gravy is also an option when dining out in cyberspace. As is cyber-French-Onion-Dip.

NOTIONAL HEADLINE #8:

BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S/A SERBIAN FILM CROSSOVER DOMINATES VALENTINE'S DAY BOX OFFICE.

MENTAL BEAM LASER #1:

I want you to picture deep within your mind the film oeuvre of Steven Seagal. 

Do you have this body of work well and vividly pictured within your deepest inner mind?

Excellent.

Now, together, we will use the power of imagination to effect a profound transformation.

Focus, now.

Gather your will.

Is it gathered?

Now use your gathered will to summon forth a power locked deep inside your mind. This is the power of your Mental Beam Laser.

Have you unlocked your Mental Beam Laser?

Excellent.

Now, I want you to use your newly unlocked Mental Beam Laser to erase the image of Steven Seagal from his body of film work. Nothing else. Just Seagal. Think of it as precision laser surgery. 

Have you used your Mental Beam Laser to precisely and totally erase Steven Seagal from his body of film work?

Excellent.

Now, we are going to adjust our Mental Beam Laser so that it can draw something instead of erasing something. Go ahead and make the necessary adjustments.

Very good. Are you sure you've never used a Mental Beam Laser before today? Ha ha, I kid. 

Now that you are ready to draw with your Mental Beam Laser, I want you to focus on the Steven Seagal-shaped void we've created in his body of work. We're going to fill that void by drawing in someone else. Focus your mind on the image of Stevie Nicks. Now, use your Mental Beam Laser to draw her within the void left behind by our complete erasure of Steven Seagal. Once you have done this, watch the film oeuvre of Stevie Nicks, and see how long it takes for you to start really struggling when you attempt to remember the face of Steven Seagal. 

Ah, yes.

Now, you are just beginning to understand the power of your Mental Beam Laser. In fact, you probably find yourself thinking, "Gee, that first cycle of Stevie Nicks action films in the early 1990s were pretty good, but by the turn of the millennium, she was strictly straight-to-DVD. Shame, that."

Ah, yes!

Soon enough you will be a Mental Beam Laser Master!

Diligence and Mastery are steadfast comrades in the Life of Rigor!

THE NEW DREAM #6:

Reading Proust on my phone while waiting for my hash browns at Waffle House 

then using my Tornado Forkwhip Technique to eat the hash browns

sure it makes a mess

gotta keep 'em lively

through constant spiralization

to unlock the flavor

BURNING QUESTIONS IN A UNIVERSE OF MYSTERY #8:

Lotta people talk all kinds of shit about the Duke of Earl, but at least he's got a theme song.

What do you have, Dear Reader?

Do you have a theme song?

Mm-hmm.

So maybe just, y'know, ease up on the guy a bit, okay?

All right.

SINCE YOU DIDN'T ASK #4:

. . . yes, I have often dipped my coffee inside cheeseburgers and pizza. Also, when I go to the chain coffee place, I ask for sausage-infused biscuit gravy for my mocha whip cookie smoothie in lieu of the usual sugar slush. If the barista is uncooperative, I am not averse to using my parkour skills to leap the bar and make my own coffee beverages as necessary. Through conscious evolution, I have willed into existence new organs'n'orifices which allow me to produce'n'excrete a variety of biscuit gravy substances on command. My codename is 'GRAVY SUPREME' during in-theatre flavor operations. None may oppose me.

BONUS: ARE YOU TRULY LIVING AT MAXIMUM FLAVOR, DEAR READER? DO YOU CHOOSE TO KNOW THE TRUTH OF THE FLAVOR UNIVERSE?

THE NEW DREAM #5:

I was too shitfaced to drive to Waffle House

so I walked across the highway to IHOP

even tho' I'd pooped my pants just a little bit

not a lotta bit

but they know me at Waffle House

if I come in smelling wrong

I'd never live it down

in the IHOP

sits one man

no one else is there

I ask the one man

who is just staring at a plate of pristine pancakes

if I'm too early

he shakes his head

I guess that's no

I ask him if he's going to eat those pancakes

he looks up at me

says,

"I've disrupted pancakes."

I'm like what

"I've disrupted pancakes."

I don't know what that is

"These are verified pancakes. The kitchen has to pay a monthly fee."

I'm like the kitchen workers paid for the pancakes

"No. I fired all the workers. The kitchen paid to verify these pancakes."

someone's in the kitchen-

"No. The kitchen paid. I disrupted . . . I . . . I was a man of science. I . . . placed a very high value on truth. But . . . I . . . I swear I disrupted that kitchen. And these pancakes. I swear."

I go into the kitchen area

it's a fuckin' mess

a real home economics disaster zone

I go back to the guy

"You see now. I never made anything in my life. But I made these pancakes. I . . . disrupted . . ."

and then he clamps his hands over his mouth

I thought he was gonna vomit

but the guy just starts screaming and sobbing and gibbering into his hands

he doesn't do a very good job of keeping a lid on his shit

but it's the tears coming out of his eyes that gets me

that makes me wanna hitchhike to Waffle House

but I just can't stop watching this guy lose his mind

there's a surprising amount of entertainment value going on here

but the guy spends himself

he takes his hands off his mouth

he gestures vaguely at me with his hand

"So. You know this place. You see how we've improved upon it. How we've disrupted it. Ah-heh. You wanna come work for me?"

like a job

"Sure. Why not?"

you mean like in the kitchen-

"No. The kitchen's already working. I want to hire you . . . to do my crying."

I'm like-

-but then he's just howling with laughter

and slamming his forehead down again and again shattering the plate of pancakes with his skull

shouting

"DISRUPT!DISRUPT!DISRUPT!HOO-HOO!COO-CHOO!DISRUPT!DISRUPT!"

-and I got the fuck outta there

walked all the way to Waffle House

which wasn't that far

actually

BURNING QUESTIONS IN A UNIVERSE OF MYSTERY #7:

Do you think that it could be possible to measure Elon Musk's spiraling incompetence and total failure at twitter by measuring the rate at which he increasingly chooses to go to IHOP instead of the gym?

I will gladly take my answer off the air.

SINCE YOU DIDN'T ASK #3:

. . . I have also dipped corn-on-the-cob into my coffee. Additionally, I have used spoonfuls of macaroni and cheese as counterintuitive creamer. Moreover, I have used coffee to add flavor to my coffee more often than you would expect.

BONUS: For a flavor adventure, pour coffee over your mashed potatoes in lieu of gravy!

HUMPDAY THINGS I LIKE #5:

I like it in the action movies when the protagonist invades the villain's secret base with a submachine gun, and just starts blazing away at the heavily armed paramilitary henchmen-buncha damn greedy mercenaries-and all the high tech control panels and so forth. And then there's this moment-it doesn't always happen-there's this moment when the protagonist is just shooting a random gun-toting bad guy with just, like, hundreds of bullets. And there's all these squibs packed with crimson corn syrup and raw liver and raw hamburger and chicken gizzards popping off, and he's, like-the bad guy getting shot-he's like getting all blasted right in front of some kind of a high-tech control console-screens, meters, gauges, readouts, sliders, blinking lights, printout tapestries-and, y'know, the imaginary bullets are going through the bad guy, and the control panel is sparking off-like machine squibs, y'know? And, like, there's this thing that happens-it doesn't always happen-but there's this moment when you can sorta see where, like, the sparks merge with the crimson corn syrup and the raw liver and the chunks of hamburger and chicken gizzards and-this doesn't always happen-but if you pause the DVD, and you go frame by frame, you can just discern a new being coming through the screen, okay? It's like a . . . uh . . . like a mash-up of the machine squib outputs and the meats squib outputs-these two kinds of ersatz death and if you can catch that frame just so, okay . . . and this is where you have to make a bit of a perceptual leap . . . but if you can catch that merging of the two kinds of onscreen ersatz death-machine and meats-then that creates a metaphysical suck that'll drain a certain amount of real world death-machine and meats-which will help extend the life of your DVD player and, y'know, is good for the overall health of your home entertainment setup, right, which should be obvious. And, also obvious, it can give you back a few months on your lifespan. Which isn't nothing. But you wanna be careful, 'cause if your cat or your dog or your brat is between you and the screen then, y'know, they'll catch the benefit instead of you. So just keep that in mind, you should do fine.