The Initiative Initiative

Marvin Sparkes was the team leader and he was not wearing his scuba gear
The conference was at the Sumptuous Towers International Ho/Motel in Downtown Los Angeles
The room sat 250 people and 18 non-people
Pastry table: Intact
Orange juice dispensers: Full
Weak-ass coffee jugs: Who the fuck cares?
Napkins: Seemingly wax-coated squares incapable of drying a single teardrop...plenty of these shits
LCD Projectors improperly configured: All

We were VIP, so we were told to ignore the registration table
Once we finished with our steam-table gourmet breakfast (with the ketchup bowl)
We were sent to the conference
The registration table workers were unaware of our VIP status
And asked us to sign in

Though we felt violated, we signed in
The conference room held scads of people
Who had missed out on the ketchup bowl
So we signed in, knowing we didn't really have to
Nevertheless, we persevered

The Admiral took the podium and began speaking
After an uncomfortable 30 seconds
The microphone was switched on

His message was clear:

Find that trout!

Divine Cruelty (potentially stupid yet possibly insightful)

Cruelty is divine

It is a shared experience

With actors and audience

Switching roles willingly

From the outside

One can argue, successfully

That unbalanced power dynamics

Ensure that the roles are set in stone

And that the victims are unwitting and helpless

While the aggressors are, well, cruel

This is why compromise is impossible

This is why there can be no real treatment

For those cast (by others or selves) as cruel

Once we take away the complexity

Of gains and losses

Of the importance of roles

Of bias and ignorance

We have defeated any chance

Of facing the detestable comfort of cruelty

All the while dooming ourselves to the divinity

Held within

The Corner Store

We met the Admiral at the corner store
He wanted more
The Admiral wanted more
The radio crackled
And the electricity
It made me sore
And the Admiral demanded more
My buddy held out
And was shot through the head
What kind of friend gets shot through the head?
The kind of friend the Admiral wants dead
At the corner store

Navy Shooter (The Killer Gettin' Iller)

I got a gun and a grudge
And I like spicy fudge
Because Thai food is nice
And I can handle the spice
I pray to their gods
Play games with their mods
I live in their houses
And I slide in their spouses
I am the Navy Shooter
And represent my agenda
I am locked and I'm loaded
And I ain't no pretender
I might be involved in a contracting agency
But I still consider myself
To be a part of the Navy
My disorder is crucial
In that I cannot be neutral
They prescribed me some Abilify
But with each five milligrams I wanted to die
I knew I was free when I no longer felt fear
And when a man dies inside the decision is clear
You rack up a count like in a video game
And when you're in my place you'll do exactly the same 

Lake Cachuma: Artificial Lake

Even though it was quite wet
And fish would swim and shake
Shake is just the word I choose
Because it rhymes with lake
Fake lake fish shake
Pray the lord my soul to take
My sister has an Easy Bake™
My father takes me to this lake

[A fashion designer begins staining the more wooden letters, leaving the "alphabete-plastique" to the latex paint]

Fish in dresses on the runway
Theodore Nugent lives the gunway
Just like hot dogs choose the bunway
Our fishing trip is on a Sunday

My father shows me how to sharpen a filet knife
While he tells me he knows I've been stealing his silver quarters
I deny everything
And he somehow lets it go
He pulls the long thin blade across the oiled sharpening stone
After four pulls on each side
He wipes the blade dry with a handkerchief

My brother's hashish still courses through my 12-year old body
And the song "Stranglehold" keeps me focused
There is a physical canyon between us
That can be seen from the Dragon Lady photos

False Positive

The clinical failure rate was impressive

Joshua tabulated the results

And waited for the next batch of results

These data coincided with the previous data

A knock at the lab door was unusual

But he stepped away from the bench to answer the door

The well-dressed men showed him pictures of his family

They knew of all his crushes and pursuits of women with similar interests

To his

He explained to them about data integrity

And the need for unbiased analysis of all things worthy of study

They cut his throat and held his body still

Until he had stopped jerking about

Like a stupid puppet

Dancing "The Ghouta"

Al Tayyib was the first to examine the full-diameter core sample
He noted that the drying time had been minimal
Based on the principle that for something to require drying
Wetness would need to be an initial factor
His report would not be welcomed by his superiors
Who were either frightened or wise enough
To only deliver good news to the governate

But as Al Tayyib radioed his findings
A familiar whistling sound
And a not-so-distant staccato bass line of medium ordnance
Filled the lab with new sounds
He was suddenly compelled to dance
There were several successive strikes
Not direct hits to the science building
But close enough to shatter the windows
And cause the walls and floors to buck and buckle
To remain standing, he pivoted his hips
And rotated his upper body
Both achieving balance
And looking good while doing it

Al Tayyib had found his groove and needed to share his new moves
He took his dance out of the building and out to the street
Where he was now being being out-danced by children and old women
His hip-pivot was nothing compared to their full-body mega-twitch
One of the DJs was going nuts with the fog machine
And the whole 'hood was joining the party!

Why Two Jacks?

You know about Jack and Sherry

And a little 'bout Utah Jack

But whatcha got to remember

There's four Jacks in every deck (pack)

Deck (pack) back slap

Bottom feeders

Feed on crap

And it's easier now

To tear a phone book in half

So I introduce to you

Two more Jacks

They won't rub, but slap your back

Non-back rubbin'

Rachel Stubbins

Married them both

Because they kept her cummin'

Who's this Rachel?

You might ask

Who married two Jacks

That slapped her back

Deck (pack) back slap

Bottom slapping

Men named Jack

And you gotta remember

There's four to a pack (deck)

The Admiral Redressing Phyllis

The Admiral had gone out to Victoria Gardens
In beautiful Rancho Cucamonga, California
He found the parking to be convenient
And appreciated being given the choice
Of a paid meter up close to the store
Or a free spot just a short walk away

He found the perfect metered spot on Main Street
And though his Bradley M2 Fighting Vehicle took up three spaces
He only paid for parking on the foremost meter
It was, after all, only one vehicle

He was aware, but only in the slightest of ways
That he was entering the Victoria's Secret
Located in Victoria Gardens
And that if he were not just another shallow character
In one of Joel Huschle's blogs
He would find deeper meaning
In what Joel would call the Double Victoria Conundrum

So The Admiral, remaining two-dimensional
And realizing that Joel had to get ready for work
Bought a bunch of creepy lingerie for Phyllis
And drove back to Puddingstone to dress her up for a special night

On Being a Head in a Bag: Dagmar's Head, Specifically

I no longer need my eyes to see
They've dried to the point
Of being useless to me
The fact that I'm thinking
Is neither blessing nor curse
The sackcloth I'm kept in
Isn't unlike a purse
I actually feel a sense of relief
Because I don't have to eat
And I don't have to breathe
I don't have to worry about paying my bills
Of laundering clothes or taking my pills
I've no sense of smell although surely I'm stinking
And I'm starting to hear what my captors are thinking

Make a Face: Zeke's Sierra Gold Floating Trout Bait®

A soul on a wire leash wanted his attention
The woman who had made faces at him
After he had been captured and surgically altered
Was now attempting to communicate
This time faceless
She wanted him to let her in
"I freed you! Remember the night I freed you?"

The Keeper had been learning from his four captives
Allowing them brief visitations with one another
In exchange for lessons
Lessons about humans
Essentially lessons about deception and entitlement
Not earned but gained through luck or chance

Evolution must have its reasons, mustn't it?

The Keeper had learned that trust was humanity's favorite trap
Whether it's the treble hook hidden by:

Or the pleas of a lonely scientist

Who, one night, let pity and whiskey get the best of her

And now she wanted his help

Oh, he planned to let her in

But not until she made one last face for him

A trust face

Obviously Witches

The Sun Lounge waitresses

Used carved sticks to weave sackcloth blindfolds

To be used in the pairing ritual

All eight men would willingly allow

The Sun Lounge waitresses

To blindfold them and paint fake eyes

Onto the sackcloth blindfolds

By rubbing yellow dandelion flowers

Dampened with their own spit

To create two cartoonish jaundiced circles

Over the spots where the real eyes resided

Suppressed Joviality Runtime Error 0.386-5

This is to be sung by Jack Housen. In a wading pool:

One day while playing my guitar I met a sad man named Omar

He said he was from the future

And was actually constructed from the DNA

From the severed head of Dagmar

Omar said to me

"Don't suppress your joviality because to do so would be stupid!"

I told him, I am Jack Housen and I have little tolerance for sad men!

And then. He told me. Again:

"Don't suppress your joviality because to do so would be stupid!"

It was then that I realized that I am simply a mouthpiece for Joel Huschle

And that Joel has horribly misinterpreted what his analyst said

Because to correctly interpret a Jungian

You must learn how to have fun again

(to the tune of Paperback Writer)

Archetype fighter!

Chapter 2: A New Character or Two

Christopher MacMurray sauntered into the Sun Lounge
At the beautiful Crystal Springs Resort in Sussex County, New Jersey
His caddy was a tall, thirsty twig of a man that everyone called Utah Jack
The waitresses at the Sun Lounge wore clothing at work because it felt protective
And helped them adhere to social norms
While Christopher sauntered up to the bar, Utah Jack simply walked
The bartender was a fully-clothed racist named Ripley Hamilton
Jack ordered a glass of soda water with no ice
Christopher ordered a Cape May IPA and after the first sip, thought:

A decidedly hoppy and bitter, moderately strong American pale ale.  The beer emphasizes the hop aroma and flavor while muting the hop bitterness.  Loaded with Cascade hops that provide Floral and citrus notes.

Jack ordered a glass of soda water with no ice

But you already knew that

Ripley Hamilton put the drinks on their room tab

While thinking hateful thoughts about people whom he believed were of a different race than he

That's what racists do

The waitresses were fertile and ready for the breeding ceremony

Utah Jack ordered a glass of soda water with no ice

Phyllis is Tied to an Expensive Chair

The Admiral paced in front of Phyllis

Back and forth, like in the movies

When a uniformed soldier is biding time and waiting for answers

He was good at this, having seen many movies

Phyllis sat, restrained with 

Safariland Double Cuff Disposable Handcuffs ®

To an Xten Anthracite Ergonomic Office Chair Designed by Pininfarina ®

She faced forward with her back to the fish shelf

Her temple still bandaged with protective cushioning around the wiring

The Admiral knew she could both see and hear him

Though he also knew she had a designated pass to the Aquanet

And would certainly be lurking about

Trying to make sense of it all

He only hoped she would understand the importance of her prior research

And that his actions were less a betrayal and more of a sacrifice

Because he loved, and was in love, with her

And the only way he could keep her alive

Is if she helped him find The Keeper

Eleven, Pre-Witch Baby

Eleven was born a pauper to a pawn

On top of a fish

How can a woman aim a baby at a fish?

She uses her guidance system. That's how.

Jack wrote a song about a woman's baby guidance system.

It's called:

Woman's Baby Guidance System:

Women use their pouches as weapons

To control the relentlessness of birth

It's a kind of mathematics that's confusing

Involving angles and amplitudes and girth

They aim with their protruding intuition

The targets that they seek are often safe

The softness of the landing is important

But they carry styrofoam peanuts just in case

Dual Foveated Phyllis

The disconnect between the sights in front of her

From the feelings below her

Visually equal in strength

Equal in strength

Yet Phyllis cannot make the mental leap

Knowledge of the two being joined

Always joined

Of no help to her at this time

The Circumcision Question: Resurfacing

So it's 2157 and the Allied submarine... (I'm sure it's quite advanced technologically. More on that later. Just be patient for a change.)

So the Allied sub is named after one of the early heroes in the Witch War. 

The sub is named The Housen and its mission is to permanently seal the Salem Stoma at the bottom of the Puerto Rico Trench.

The sub has good weapons and interesting crew members.

The front of The Housen is cloaked in synthetic human tissue to confuse and kill the witches (More on that later. Just hold your fuckin' horses.)

Burnt English Bread

Sherry used her "Joined At The Seams" nail polish

To paint both sides of an English muffin

She was not surprised by the smoke and flames

After it had two minutes in the toaster

Jack's sandwich was going to be the best sandwich ever

She felt a stirring in her nethers

And wondered why nail polish had such dumb names

Zombie Fatigues (Where are the Nazis?)

None of the characters in Mineragua are zombies
Nor are there any Nazis
One could argue that I use the "non-Romero" zombie disease model
To turn Sherry into a witch
When she practices poor sexual hygiene by making love
On a boat-cushion covered in dried witch afterbirth
But I would argue and win the argument
One could also accuse me of being sexist
Because Jack and Sherry's sex was unprotected, i.e.: good
And if she was practicing poor sexual hygiene, was not he as well?
So why didn't Jack catch any of this witch virus?
Is it because he's circumcised? I honestly don't know if he is or not
But maybe there was just a bunch more labial coochie contact with the corrupt cushion
Thus explaining her infection and making me a non-sexist
I am more comfortable knowing I am not a sexist
But that was too close for comfort
And so far, no Nazis
Let's just hope they don't show up to ruin everything

Phyllis has a Dream

The Admiral watched Phyllis sleep

From the movement beneath her closed eyelids and the mild jerking of her limbs

He knew she was dreaming

The Admiral got up from the bed

Quietly making his way to the fish shelf

He still could feel the shared stickiness from their earlier romp

Rarely had he felt so comfortable with a woman

As if she were an apartment building

And he had the master key ring

He returned to Phyllis with a wiring harness and a syringe of milky liquid

Her eyes opened briefly as he put the needle in and depressed the plunger

She barely felt the scalpel pierce her temple from her newfound place in the clouds

The Admiral, having jacked her in

Threw the hard line connection switch

And through the fog, Phyllis felt both more trapped

And more free

Than she had ever been

The admiral made one phone call as the data feed kicked in

His message was curt

He stated, "We are going to find that fish."

Trevor's Findings: Like with Like

Hey Liam. I found something in the field.

What did you find, Trevor?

It's in the sackcloth bag on the kitchen table. Take a look.

(Liam's lessons about putting "like with like" to maintain organizational skills had clearly failed when it came to Trevor. The tan bag's lower half had dry dark rust-colored smears that had obviously come from the inside. Another human head. On top of that, an improperly filed human head. Liam glared at Trevor, but couldn't keep his eyes from Trevor's gigantic gazungas. Very distracting when attempting to teach life lessons about proper filing methods.)

Hey Liam! Look at my eyes, not my breasts!

Trevor, Trevor, Trevor. When will you ever learn where things are stored? 

Don't you even want to take a look in the sackcloth bag?

(Liam walked to the kitchen table and peered into the stiff cloth bag.) Hey now. This is a real find. Where did you get this and how is it that you're not wounded or dead? 

That shouldn't matter. I want the position we had talked about.

(Still looking into the bag, Liam watched Dagmar's detached head attempt to speak. Dagmar's eyes were open, but too dry to move within their sockets. And even though Liam had been trained to read lips, he knew what Dagmar was trying to tell him: "Don't trust him!" Liam looked over to Trevor, trying hard not to ogle his perfectly smooth and fleshy rack.) Congratulations, Trevor. You are now the lead for this assignment. Well played. Now please file this properly!

I know. Like with like.

Get tin' Real with DJ Phyllis

Hey I might be Phyllis but I sure am fine

If you give me two nickels I'll give you a handjob

If you expected me to say dime it didn't work

So you bust a smile while I work the jerk

I make faces at trout all wired to the mesh

And once they reach sentience I scramble their brains

Because we can't let intelligent trout rule the world

So you be the boy and I'll play the girl

Whisky Trout Song

Oh dear brown trout

I must let you out

I can't live with my emotions

When I feel a doubt

I been drinkin' warm whisky

With a yearbook from high school

If I had a gun

I'd end my fucking life

But you are a trout

Who's peered into the future

And even though the store's gone

We might get some furniture

Jack's Ballad: Remembering the Dead

I remember the dead

But never a thing about living

My memories are cold and empty

Because I remember the dead

There are those who remember the living

They dance and they cry and they sing

There are those that remember the living

Who think living is the thing

But I remember the dead

That they are all quite the same must be said

Oh-ho I remember the dead

For as long as there's thoughts in my head

Let living be living

And rotten to rot

One moment we're breathing

Next moment we're not

Oh I remember the dead

That has nothing to do with the living

They are merely the crust of the bread

With an empty inside unforgiving

For if there's a god

But there isn't a god

But if there's a god

There is one thing I want

I want to remember the dead

I don't want to remember the living

I want to remember the dead

And I do not expect no forgiving

Trout of Souls: No Such Thing as Catch and Release

He had decided upon a name: The Keeper

Not having a name had never been a problem

Until he was awakened from his normal fish life

By the face-making woman and the wires

But now he needed a name because he had become more than a normal fish

He was a fish who could absorb and sequester the newly departed

All of their thoughts were now his to use

Or ignore

That they were still processing as if alive

Was both disturbing and fascinating

For the time being he would keep them separated from one another

The Keeper knew he could control an individual captive

But he worried that, collectively, he could be challenged

And that would surely suck

Dry Water, The Kufra Basin: 2015 (sung to the tune of "Midnight at the Oasis")

Midnight at the Kufra Basin
You have sent your hormonally feminized Caucasoid child to bed
The Sun will not be rising tomorrow
What in the fuck is going on?

Heaven's holding us hostage
Hell has sold us as scrap
Let's eat sand until our guts burst
Because the game is up

Very few plants have survived
Jesus appears as a hoot owl
But stays silent
'Til the evenin' ends

You don't have a chance here
There's no need to speak
Those listening are disinterested
There is a slaughter and we are sheep

[Instrumental Interlude]

I know your Admiral's a sultan
A hero known to all
But he's been tricked by a brown trout
And is under its control

But you won't need no future, honey
When you realize you're doomed
And you won't need no large breasted Libyan boy, no no
Because it is too late

Come on, Dagmar is our friend
He'll point out the way
Come on, 'til the evenin' ends
'Til the evenin' ends

Midnight at the Kufra Basin
Send your hormonally feminized Caucasoid child to bed
The Sun will not be rising tomorrow

What in the fuck is going on?

Oh, come on...

Ruby: Timeless Beauty

My world is cloudy and getting smaller every day
The light remaining is reminiscent of that thrown
From a GE Incandescent Soft White 40 Watt Light Bulb
I cannot say whether there is a darkness pressing in from the outside
Or whether the dimming glow is using the shadow
As a blanket or comforter

I hear barking from a distance
A metronome of arfs
And not until I am out of breath
Do I realize that I am the one setting the tempo
To a song that no longer makes sense

The tall ones carry me from place to place
My front legs can no longer pull me forward
For the load I am pulling seems heavier every day
And now the light is more like that thrown
From a GE Incandescent Soft White 25 Watt Light Bulb
While I wait for the tall ones
To help the blanket cover me completely

Multicultural Picnic: Cancelled

Korah had never experienced fear before tonight
Had the oak door been real, the slug from Liam's gun
Would have created a splintering effect
And had the oak door been real, the insulating properties of the wood
Could have saved Liam hundreds of dollars in energy savings
Korah's male Latino friend was literally (really in a true way) torn in half at the torso
By the large caliber round meant for Korah
And while he ran from the porch he felt afraid for his life
And sad for his dead friend
But the tears he cried when he returned to the Days Inn
Were tears of happiness at the realization
He had, on his own, developed true sentience
And with these newfound feelings came a virtual shopping list
Of needs and experiences to be obtained
The first one, of course, was revenge
Korah, the Jehovahs Witness beta cyborg
Threw his stack of Watchtower magazines into the hotel trash can

Franklin Fails to Respond: Freedom is Sinister

Crazy Larry! Oh Boy!

Lawrence awoke to the sound of a rattling window
He had wet his bed with another's urine
And his unsettled brine was its own institution (unto itself, fucker)
Broken glass was a non-occurrence
There was no drama nor excitement
Lawrence felt the chilling of the wetness
Maybe it was the wind or a momentary shift of the tectonic plates
But Lawrence knew he would need to kill
The caucasoid, full-breasted Libyan boy

Beneath his bed

Who had come through the Puddingstone Reservoir Stoma

From the Witch-Baby Meritocracy at the center of the Earth®

Dance Routine (Practice Makes Perfect)

Phyllis and the Admiral had sex
Once they finished, they ate food and talked
They did not bother to clean the dishes
Both of them (not the dishes, even though there were two dishes)
(four dishes if you count the soupspoons)
(or one could just say two bowls and two soupspoons)
(but I am having difficulty now picturing the Admiral and Phyllis eating soup after their sex because soup is not really after-sex food like a sandwich or leftover Chinese food)
(in fact I look back at the first line and think I must be the most unromantic blogger ever)

So let's just get this done: Phyllis ends up telling the Admiral she had released one of the fish when she was drunk. They argue. The Admiral is madder than a mad bunch of crazy hornets! Oh no!
What's going to happen now?

The Grip Reamer: A Poem in Five Lines

I bought propane from a fool

With a poorly photocopied $20 bill

But because of my deception

The steaks and chicken were ill prepared

As I will be when I answer for what I've done

The Mineragua Team: A Multicultural Picnic

The Jehova's Witness beta cyborg and his Latino partner approached Liam's porch
Liam had been trained as an assassin
Specifically to eliminate religious and dogmatic targets
Three metallic knocks on the faux oak door
Brought Liam to his feet

Liam brought up his Heckler & Koch G36

And fired through the faux oak door

But instead of the beta cyborg

He had killed the cyborg's male Latino partner

Who had been in a gang

Who had been a reluctant father

Who had been a molester of those who trusted him

And the cyborg ran away free

While the male and Latino apostate bled out on his porch

Liam would be busy with his Shopvac tonight

Vacuuming up the spongey apostate Latino entrails

And he would wonder to himself:

Can a deer and a lion eat grapes with an American Indian?

 

Sherry's Black Magic Sandwich

Unfamiliar with Jack's kitchen
Sherry had a bitch of a time finding ingredients
To construct a sandwich

Jack's refrigerator would not open for her
Because the biometric lock
Did not recognize her thumbprint

Sherry looked at her palm
Taking note that the wound had already healed
She glared at the refrigerator door and began to chant:

Samahac et famyolas Harrahya!

The refrigerator opened and the mustard, pickles, and deli meat
Floated of their own accord to the counter
Tomatoes and lettuce released themselves from their vegetable drawers and followed the other ingredients
Sherry turned to the the pantry now
Feeling as if every cell in her body held power and answers
She again chanted:

Samahac et famyolas Harrahya!

Jack felt clean and frisky as an alley cat after his shower
He entered the kitchen wearing only a towel around his waist
He saw Sherry yelling at his pantry
His friskiness subsided as he watched his sandwich components
Float through the air to the cutting board on the counter

Sherry was, herself, now floating a few inches above the tile floor of the kitchen
Jack approached her and noted the blue glow her body was giving off
And stated, "Not too heavy on the mustard. I'll be in the living room"

Taking on Water: The Lowrance Mark-5X Pro Fishfinder Mono 83/200 kHz

I was impressed with the powerful yet simplified performance

Of the Lowrance Mark-5X Pro Fishfinder Mono 83/200 kHz

I had been given the Lowrance Mark-5X Pro Fishfinder Mono 83/200 kHz as a birthday present

Yet my birthday was six months ago

And I was not certain who had purchased it for me

It was delivered to my home last Friday while I was at work

Since I work from home, I was there when it was delivered

I received the delivery politely

Even though I was surprised that my boss allowed me to accept it during work hours

I am self-employed

But that does not mean my boss is any less of a dick than your boss

The birthday card in the box was one of the funny ones from Target

It had a cartoon elderly white geezer shaking his cane at a birthday cake

There were so many candles burning that the cake was an inferno

Indicating the white geezer was quite old

There was a thought bubble above the man's head that read:

I ought to just give up and burn to death

I opened the card and there was a handwritten message on the left side
Written in a language I did not understand
And on the right side there was a printed "punchline"
Which I suppose was related to the elderly white man in an existential crisis
It stated:

Happy Birthday! At least your cane is still stiff!

Colony Collapse: The Fermentation Shield

Bee #4 used only the finest pollen for the queen's feast

He would fly from blossom to blossom

His back legs caked in yellow powder

And his queen would be appreciative

Dagmar felt the same way while gathering his pollen

Which happened to be yellow-cake uranium

His queen was an admiral with a vision for the future

Unlike all the bureaucrats he had toyed with over the decades

Dagmar's hive was humming with activity

Plans were made and set

Coordination was key, but Dagmar was certain

That the future involved both him and the admiral 

Professional Writer Colony Collapse

I am the professional writer of this blog

There has been a ripple of sorts that has interrupted my thoughts

The ripple is not related to the divers

How could it be?

I had a dream last night about Cuban flags

Being used as spring roll wrappers

And then I had to go back to 4th grade

To let Mrs. Kamm finish the salt statue of Warren Harding

The Apology (from the professional writer)

Hello. I am the professional writer of this blog. My name is Joel and I am quite famous. I use words to write sentences. Sometimes (often) not complete. Sentences. I must apologize for several things, with the first being the labeling of any character or group who show attributes of varied citizenship, age, gender, ethnicity, and connection to a witch baby meritocracy in the center of the earth. 

As a professional writer of an upcoming novel, I feel the need to warn you away from "word-connection" which is the true downfall of all readers. When I write about caucasoid Libyan boys who have been poisoned by an esteogen-dumping Irish pharmaceutical company, causing them to have fully developed breasts, I am not asking you to picture this scenario. I am simply asking (begging) that you take responsibility in how you interpret what you believe you are reading.

As a reader, the impetus (third time I've used that word today) (which) means I may be smart or at least impetus impetus. Impetus. Incomplete. The impetus is on you to correctly arrange these words. If you fail, your critique will at most rip my very soul to shreds and at the very least cause me to wallow in a dark place of doubt with a fragile connection to my humanity.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry if you feel I have led you astray.

Notice how the which is isolated? You have your work cut out for you.

Bee Attack: Marilyn Monroe

Like a 60 cycle hum

Spooky and nervily rhythmic

Marilyn carried the noisy hive

To all appointments

And on all film sets

Tri-Stomic Camera Misjudgment

Liam used the joystick controller to achieve a better view

Trevor had no sexual feelings for Liam

Liam was oddly shaped like a malwatered fig

Trevor was one of the older Caucasoid Libyan boys with fully developed breasts

Trevor had extraordinarily plump nipples and had figured out how to copy anyone's signature

Liam realized his camera placements were flawed from the getgo

And he would have to send Trevor back into the field

Where life and death were casual friends

But intimate partners, nonetheless

Trout of Souls

He didn't know if he had one name

Or many names

And he wondered why he was even able to think

He remembered the woman who would make faces at him

And the night she drunkenly snipped the thin wires

That had connected him to a massive data network

His access to so much information suddenly stopped

Leaving him alone in his own mind

The face woman had released him back into the reservoir

Which made very little sense to him

Since she had methodically pithed the others

Once her experiments were completed

He was safely out of range when the grenade exploded

And wouldn't even know what a grenade was

Except that the departing souls of the human divers

Had entered into him

He had access to their thoughts and could feel them struggle for purchase

But for now he would keep them subdued and separate from one another

Until he learned more about who they once were

And what parts he would keep for himself

And though he did not have a mirror

He was certain he was making "happy face"

Tripoli 1951: King Idris and the Irish Estrogen Coverup

The new king loved the taste of dates

Which got him to wondering why the shape of an average date

Along with the placement of the date in his mouth

Would trigger within him uncomfortable feelings

He would wriggle out the pit with his tongue

And imagine he was free to dance with the men around him

He pictured the exhausted group shedding their sweat-soaked garments

And then fucking each other a whole bunch

These thoughts drove the new king bananas

So he devised a plan to change the masculine nature of the fruit of the date palm

By having an Irish pharmaceutical company

Pump tens of thousands of gallons of cruelly-derived estrogen

Directly into the Kufra Basin Aquifer

King Idris believed that within a few years

He would be able to savor a plump and luscious date

And be free to think about politics and weather patterns

Instead of his fairly graphic homoerotic fantasies

The plan didn't work to change the fruit's effects

Which drove the king totally bananas

And he swore he would never again eat another date

His health had steadily deteriorated since being overthrown in 1969

He had kept his pledge to avoid eating dates

Until in 1983 while on his deathbed, the king called out to his nurse

"A date, please. I would like a date."

The stereotypically sexy female nurse smiled and wagged her index finger at him

And called him a "naughty boy"

The king died a short while later

Hydro Team: Shoreline Townspeople Massacre

As they rowed gently toward the shore

Sherry in the front of the boat, facing Jack

And Jack watching the forested shoreline

Framing Sherry as if she were in a painting

Jack thought it wouldn't be a very good painting

Because with Sherry in the absolute center

With the horizontal shoreline behind her head

The whole composition would be pedestrian and kludgey

Jack was thankful he was a singer-songwriter and not a painter

He began to sing softly, using the rhythm of the oars to keep tempo:

The Bad Painting Love Song (Pussywillow)

If I called you "Pussywillow" and made you a sandwich

Would you move in with me?

When we get to shore

Could we drive straight to my place and eat a sandwich?

I can picture you in a painting

A painting I don't like

Not because of the subject matter

But because of poor composition

So rather than a bad painting

Maybe we could perform a symphony

With me as the bow

And you as the violin

What do you say, Pussywillow?

Sherry, though facing Jack and hearing him singing

Could sense the imminent threat awaiting them on the shore

As if each of the townspeople threw off a heat signal or a beacon

Of fear mixed with hate and the intoxication of righteousness

She shushed Jack and told him to stop rowing

Looking hurt, he said "it doesn't have to be a sandwich"

Before being promptly shushed again

Their boat was about twenty meters from shore

Sitting still with only the drips from the oars rippling the lake surface

Sherry felt more alive than at any other time in her life

As if each nerve and sense she possessed were completely synchronized

With nature

She pulled the utility knife from her dive kit and ran the sharp blade

Across her palm

Before Jack could say anything, Sherry held her bleeding hand over the water

And whispered, "Come towards me. Walk and breathe deeply of the heavy air."

Jack watched as about twenty townspeople stepped from their hiding places

Noisily dropping their clubs, knives, and yard tools

And began walking into the lake

The townspeople didn't panic or even try to stay afloat

Instead of struggling and gasping they were trying to breathe in the lake water

Until they were all floating peacefully

Sherry broke the silence and told Jack

"It's safe now. Let's row in. And yes, a sandwich would be perfect."

Admiral Plotts Is Pretty Bad Ass

His love was using the code words

And, alone in his boat

He was alert, in love, and erect

But even these distractions

Were not enough to keep him from noticing

The microbubbles from beneath his boat

As if he had paused upon a passage of dark club soda

Keeping the binoculars still on his face

And the sat-phone against his ear

He pulled a frag grenade from his belt with his left hand

And pulled the pin with his teeth

He let the lever flap open

There was no panic while he counted

Four. Three. Two. One.

He dropped the frag casually from the side of the boat into the water

He knew that if he timed it incorrectly

He would likely be wounded or killed

But all worthy risk required sacrifice

Especially if there was the possibility of establishing a connection of particular import

That was why the admiral seemed immortal

And even after tonight

The stories of an entire Seal Team being neutralized

In a filthy San Gabriel Valley reservoir

Would resonate from intelligence portals

On all continents

And other parts of the planet

And the Admiral would calmly dock

And meet his love

While together they would unwire the trout, killing them

And fully destroy the altered fish bodies

Keeping themselves warmed

By a fire fueled by the books of Dan Brown

Reservoir of Hurt: The Rage is Genuine

At today's meeting

Phyllis had the unique distinction of being the only person

To ever get kicked out of the Puddingstone Reservoir Dan Brown Book Club

Most of the other members (actually all of the other members)

Were brown trout who had lost their data integrity

The phone rang, interrupting her plan to announce

That there would be no more book club meetings at her workplace

And that her feelings were hurt by their unanimous vote against her

Phyllis picked up the phone and used her "answer word"

To acknowledge both receiving and accepting the call

Admiral Platts was just offshore in a rowboat when he made the call

The medals and accommodations on his M1941 Parsons jacket

Reflecting off the lake surface with the last bit of sunlight left in this day

The utility shack sat about 90 meters away from his position

He knew that contact had been made when he heard the "answer word"

Four pairs of hands (eight hands total) rested lightly on the rowboat's bottom

The admiral's phone conversation unheard by the four fully-suited hand owners

Helen's team had been ordered to stand down and provide surveillance data only

But Helen thought of orders as mere suggestions and often disregarded them

Which was the reason she had an unparalleled record of success with silencing traitors

Kufra Basin: 1904

The slaves of Ez-Zurgh were used to the transition

From the punishing Saharan heat

To the shaded relief of the palms

Always careful of the clustered hives

Of the apis mellifera sahariensis

While they delivered foods and spices

To the heavily defended oasis

Franklin was the slave leader

And the only slave known to be fluent in Latin

Negotiations for return provisions were his specialty

Because he was able to impress and influence his masters

By calling the local bees apis mellifera sahariensis

As the slaves were leaving the oasis

Franklin noticed a flurry of activity near the main spring

With people diving into the water and coming up

Sputtering and desperate

When Franklin inquired, he was told a local woman

Had thrown her newborn into the small pond

And yet even though the pond was small and the water clear

The infant could not be found

Franklin led his group back out to the desert

Excited that he may be able to win his freedom

By sharing his knowledge of what was happening

Both at the oasis

And far below the clear, cool water of the Kufra Basin

Taking on Water: Pinewood Pharmaceuticals

I was told that the graffiti was allowed to propagate
As part of an unspoken armistice
Between the disaffected and the simply affected
The churches and government buildings were left alone
But all other walls and public areas were fair game
Most of the content was territorial blather
Or support for the latest (corporate-sponsored) rebellious band
But in the midst of the multiple paint layers and glued-on flyers
On the wall lining the south side of Ballymount Avenue
Was a one-and-a-half foot diameter sphincter
Not really an anus
But certainly an alimentary valve of sorts
Above the sphincter was a sign with a clipart graphic
Of a woman pushing her newborn into the wall
The words above the clipart read:
Safe Baby Dropoff

Vincent: When Irish Eyes are Smiling

The lobby of Pinewood's main campus had Vincent confused
Instead of a quasi-sterile, brightly lit room with chrome-framed vinyl seating
And a doe-eyed receptionist who knew how to do the smile/head-tilt trick
He felt he was in the lobby of a roadside hotel
There were two battered couches
Of which one was occupied by a seemingly ancient labrador retriever
Who acknowledged Vincent's presence with a single eye opening
And then closing again
The "receptionist" was a thin adolescent male with red hair
And an unseemly mass of freckles that left only small hints of pale skin
Visible on his face and hands
Vincent approached Freckle-boy
Who was  standing behind a wooden lectern
"Am I in the right place?" asked Vincent
Instead of answering the question
Freckle-boy yelled over to the dog, "Raymond!"
Raymond the labrador lifted his head and turned his whitened muzzle toward Vincent
Freckle-boy continued, "Raymond, demonstrate to Vinnie here that he's in the right place"
Vincent told the boy, "I prefer Vincent. Please don't call me Vinnie."
Raymond slowly and arthritically got off the couch and approached Vincent
Stopping about three feet in front of him and stated in clear, regional brogue
"You're Vinnie from now on. And you are definitely in the right place"
Freckle-boy laughed and gave Vinnie's shoulder a welcoming slap
And had Vinnie been dreaming he would have hoped the slap would awaken him
But here he was
Wide awake in a beat-up room with Freckle-boy and a talking dog

Hydro Team: The Continued Search for Minerals

The lake bottom held the usual detritus:

Coiled nests of fishing line

A rusting handgun

Shoes near a discarded outboard motor

Sherry scanned the lake bottom

Looking up now and then to see Jack

Her LED hoodlamp casting him in a circular swath

Like he was the main figurine in a snow globe

Jack was not concentrating on the dive

Instead thinking about what he would say to Sherry

Once back up in the boat

And worse yet

On the two-hour drive back to Hydro Team Headquarters

Sherry found the stoma in an area where the lake bottom

Had recently been disturbed

She activated the GPS and relayed the location

Through their encrypted satellite communication system

The Dragon was going to be pleased with their discovery

Meanwhile, the townspeople gathered along the shore

Some had kitchen knives

Others held baseball bats and yard tools

They kept their silence

Eyes fixed on the empty boat at the center of the lake

Waiting...

Kufra Basin Scuba Gear

The dive team had trained for months

Knowing that traps would be in place

To protect the opening of the aquifer

Max was the dive team captain

And his dive suit had an embroidered "M" on the back

But he never shared with his team

That every night he would be shaken awake by his wife

Who would wake him out of the same repeating nightmare

Of being suffocated by strangely, prematurely sexualized Caucasoid Libyan children

Yet he knew the mission and the importance of the mission

And would not allow the witch mind-tricks to distract him

The team made the dive as planned

And there were casualties on both sides

Equicratic Convention Hall (explanation)

Many undeveloped planet centers have certain pre-built structures

And because the structures are already there (and that this is a universal truth)

One can rightly call the region undeveloped

Even though there will be a number of complex and useful structures there

In the region

The inner-planet region where colonies form

So there

The First Meeting of the Meritocracy of Witch-Babies at the Center of the Earth

Eleven was the fourth witch-baby to chew through half the planet to arrive in the vast and undeveloped underground refuge
Three, who was almost fourth, awaited Eleven's initial proclamation at the Equicratic Convention Hall
Numerous others (about 84 in all) were in attendance, but their back stories (let alone their names) have not yet been thought out
Eleven approached the podium, wearing the the traditional black onesie and a black pointed hat
Clearing his throat, he began singing:

Witch-Baby at the Center of the Earth Meritocracy Anthem

Our mothers were pregnant witches

Who gave birth in various boats

To throw us in the water

So we could sink to the bottom of the water containment system

(Whether it be natural, like a lake or ocean

Or artificial, like a reservoir or the Los Angeles River

Or what happened to poor Seven with the Pomona YMCA pool)

And chew our way here to our new home to form a true meritocracy

Knowing that our mothers were witches

Most have been killed or worse

But their sacrifice was worth it

Because look at our home

It's pretty nice

And you can't beat a meritocracy

Eleven finished and hastily exited the stage

His bluetooth earpiece had transmitted a message that could change everything

The voice was familiar because he knew who it was (by recognizing the sound)

The message was, "Admiral Platts was valuable. Long Beach is Secure. Dagmar out."

Taking on Water: Phase Three

The Port of Long Beach was finally visible again

The fires were mostly out and the 30,000 foot high column of dirt and ash

Had drifted and shared its contents with the inland counties

The landscape had changed as evidenced by a one mile radius

Circular glass-bottomed lagoon that now existed

Where piers, docks, and crane towers had been before

Container ships from China, Korea, and Oman floated several miles offshore

Lucky enough to have been outside of the blast radius

Admiral Platts handed his binoculars to the voluptuous caucasoid Libyan boy named Dagmar

And said, "Dagmar, the detonation was at or just below sea level

No air involvement based on the debris cloud and crater depth"

Dagmar began cleaning the binocular lenses with a corner of his blouse

And handing them back to Platts, stated, "You might as well put these away

You've seen enough to know it was one of yours"

Reservoir of Hurt

A woman (we'll call her Phyllis, because that's her name)

Worked in a small, windowless utility shack

Thirty meters up from the current shoreline

Of Puddingstone reservoir 

Measuring the emotional responses of brown trout

To human facial expressions

Phyllis was in her late twenties and had been a theater major

So she prided herself on her range and control of her facial muscles

She had even taught herself to cry without hesitation

Tears of joy or sadness

It was the reason she was hired

By Pinnacle Armor Corporation

This particular morning

She had three moderately sized brown trout

Eye-level with her on what she called the "fish shelf"

And she was making her rage face

The carefully wired fish were connected to a series of computers

On the far wall

Their responses to her expressions being transmitted

To Pinnacle's chief science officer

Who his colleagues referred to as "The Dragon"

Our Lactating Planet

"I'm just a baby" thought the male newborn
chewing his way to the center of the planet

"I have no teeth, yet I am chewing through the planet's striations like a Tungsten Carbide Insert (TCI) Roller Cone Bit produced by the Varel Corporation"

At the center of the planet the Appointed were preparing to greet their newest citizen

None of the Appointed negated the sacrifices made on the surface

By the witch-mothers and their enlightened allies

And by the herd of humanity yet to be converted

"For a newborn, I'm pretty damned smart. I will call myself Vincent in honor of my father"

the burrowing infant was unfazed as he chewed through a four kilometer magma field

for Vincent the witch-baby the consumption of magma was like suckling his mother

though he knew that she was no longer among the realm of the living

Hydro Team: The Search for Minerals

Sherry was the newest member of the team

Her first name had a similar spelling

To Chuck Berry's last name

And boy could we use some Chuck Berry right now

The initial exploration was to, well, explore the lake bottom

The team consisted of Sherry (she was new) and Jack Housen (a singer-songwriter from Claremont, California)

They started their mission at the top of the lake

After being lucky enough to find an abandoned boat

The oars were chipped and there was evidence of dried witch afterbirth on the seat cushions

But it was a good boat and Jack couldn't stifle the song he began to sing:

The We Seek Water Minerals Theme

I am a member of a specialized team

Doing important yet dangerous work

Though the song was quite short

He sang it with conviction

That brought a tear to Sherry's eye

They made love that night in the boat

But the dried witch afterbirth from the crunchy boat cushions

Had unknowingly (to Sherry and Jack, but not us) infected Sherry with witch-virus

To be continued...

What's With Vinnie? A Comic Exploration of the Driving Forces that, um,Drive Human Behavior

Vinnie's cough started out as a tickle at the back of his throat

His first reaction was to deny he was getting a cough

The next morning his throat was so sore and swollen he couldn't swallow

The glands on his neck were Jerry Lewis puffy

Though his thoughts were foggy he was able to remember why he was in Portugal 

Vinnie stood from the bed and almost collapsed when his fevered blood followed gravity's cues

And rushed downward like electricity to ground

He regained his balance and briefly envied the laws of physics

Before the world in front of him turned from colorless fireworks to black fuzz

Vinnie knew he had died but was no longer welcomed in the world of senses

His body was discovered two days later after the guests across the hall

Complained of a smell they described as a cross between rancid Parmesan

And cat farts

The hotel housekeeper rifled through his belongings before alerting the authorities

She scored a couple one-hundred dollar bills from his money belt

And a bottle of strange looking prescription pills that caught the light

In such a way that it was impossible to discern their true color

She looked at Vinnie with pity because she knew he was not blameless for his death

Yet she felt kind of bad for him anyway

He wasn't a bad looker (other than being dead and having a Jerry Lewis puff-neck)

She popped one of the vibrant, color-confused pills in her mouth and swallowed it dry

As she walked down to the lobby she felt a tickle at the back of her throat

Superstorm 2: The Movie

I want the film to be set in Las Vegas

And the whole thing unfolds through the eyes

Of a guy without a Las Vegas name

Who watches the superstorm

On television

From his economy suite at the Luxor

We'll call him Vinny for now

So Vinny basically, over the course of four days

Watches most of the world get destroyed

While trying to repair the fractured relationship with his adult son

By text messaging back and forth

Throughout the storm

And through their near-reconciliation

Vinny discovers that his son, Tony, is part of an elite paramilitary unit

That is using chemtrails and advanced weather weapons developed by the United Nations

To create and manage the superstorm

The movie ends when Vinny comes to terms with the fact

That he and Tony can never be close

The last screenshot is the final text that Vinny sends to Tony before shutting off his phone:

: (

San Antonio Dam Reconciliation Doctrine, Phase Two

We were years apart in age

But her maturity made a kind of clanging sound

That played upon my neurons and cochlea to remind me of my insignificance

(insignificance being overused once again in, well, a document or chunk of writing)

And as she scanned the dam for tolerance fractures (I just made that up. I have no idea what a tolerance fracture would be or what significance, if it were a real thing, it would have on a structure like a dam), I noticed she was made out of solid copper

It had been years since the San Antonio Dam Reconciliation Council had sent a copper woman to check on my work, let alone clang my cochlea

She found three problems with the dam and I had to write three corrective action plans to address the problems with both a timeframe and budgetary analysis and breakdown of labor and parts cost

The copper woman left and I knew I would be quite busy for the next six weeks or so

Gasquet Waterman's Filter Plan

Riverbugs had used their protective toxins in unison

As if they had been warned by either radio or sonar

About the Gasquet Waterman's filter plans

The poisons turned the river a milky orange

And several groups of steelhead were seen protesting

Holding signs that made no sense

Except maybe to other fish

The locals who depended upon the river's water

Found out Waterman's wife had warned the riverbugs

They had seen her laboratory and could picture her with wires

Building either a radio or sonar while quietly singing "The Riverbug Song"

Riverbug Song

I build these devices

To warn you of a plan

To filter you out of existence

According to the Waterman

He thinks he will be doing good

He sees you as a blight

So I must warn you, riverbugs

To make an even fight

Riverbugs release your toxins

Take your river back

You must coordinate and organize

And plan out your attack

The Waterman felt betrayed at first

Upon learning who warned the bugs

His wife explained that his filter plans

Were shortsighted and ecologically flawed

The Gasquet Waterman swallowed his pride

And admitted his filter plan was potentially dangerous

So he used her radio or sonar to contact the riverbugs

To tell them there would be no filter

And asked them to stop releasing their toxins

The milky orange water eventually cleared

And the steelhead stopped their protest

The locals were happy once again

That the riverbugs had foiled the Gasquet Waterman's filter plan

Depth Charge

The townspeople said that a witch gave birth in a boat

And threw the newborn into the lake

The lake upon which the boat with the witch was sitting

What happened then

Was that the witch's baby sank like a stone to the bottom of the lake

And chewed through the lake bottom to the center of the Earth

To join the thriving Witch-Baby Community Activities Colony

Where each and every witch-baby has an equal voice

Regarding the governance of their deep underground dwelling

The townspeople killed the witch when she arrived back on shore

Beating her to death with lacquered wooden oars

The witch did not scream or attempt to resist her fate

Because she had done her part to create a true meritocracy

At the center of the Earth

Kufra Basin Aquifers and Dr. Joe Gannon's Destructive Influence

I woke up this morning thinking I had lost my humanity

After a cup of coffee and some time to reflect

I came to the chilling realization

My humanity had remained intact

It permeates all I do and say and think

But for a brief moment this morning

Innocence and freedom seemed possible

Taking on Water, Phase Two

I push a shopping cart full of groceries

Into a crematorium

There is a woman wearing oversized goggles

That extend into a white draped hood

Her gloves are thick like phonemen used to wear

And she does the thing I hate the most

She tries to help by grabbing one side of the cart and guiding it

As if I lack the ability to steer a fucking shopping cart

I tell her to let go and she refuses, saying "This is my crematorium."

So now I have an overly gloved goggle-faced inverse Darth Vader lady

Trying to pull MY shopping cart full of MY groceries

Toward the first of three industrial-sized ovens

I take a moment to notice the strength of goggle-lady's grip on the cart

And realize she is pulling the cart toward the opening door of the first oven

As I struggle and lose my grip

I know that none of these products will survive

Once they are in the oven

She wins the battle and we both watch the immolation

Through the smoky glass window of oven #1

Once it is finished I turn to leave and nod a slow and deliberate "yes"

When she instructs me to return tomorrow

Win a Free Spa

She entered the drawing because of the photograph

Of a beautiful clay spa with steaming frothy water

And she inadvertently won by not being chosen

Because the clay spa was full of boiling ammonia

And the winner of the contest is always killed

Why do people climb into clay spas full of boiling ammonia?

Because they win the drawing

And winning feels good

Libya: Before and After

We sent the dispatch team to Libya
This was a while ago when things were not political
The team reached the village they had been sent to, hell, dispatch I guess
They were met by obese white kids
Mostly boys, but all had fully formed breasts
Few of the strange young, mostly male, white Libyans wore shirts
The few that did were wearing Fruit of the Loom brand v-necks
Satisfied, the dispatch team returned to base

Taking On Water

the feelings and misgivings of the others around me
radiate out in waves
and rather than push through my permeated covering
they stop just outside of me
and wait
from anger ghosts and trust ghouls
love wisps and sorrow flies
they wait because there is no more room in me
and there will be no vacancies any time soon