Wednesday, December 25, 2019

Unfinished brainstorming

Relax, everyone, we are currently departing. If you are uncomfortable floating in space may I suggest that you close the window next to you, find something with which to distract yourself and settle in. You will be acclimated soon enough at which point, no doubt, you will be amazed with the journey along with all the others on board.

We've set out for Telomere. It is that universe's sonic waves which guide us for the moment. Into another realm, a different paradigm, a place which doesn't require time and space to define it. Without a sound that our human ears can recognize there are frequencies that pass us by...what you wish to know is...what's on those frequencies? Could be aliens for all we know, reading their sacred otherworldly scriptures, whispering them chapter and verse into my ear, completely unconscious of the whole thing.

Kenneth, what are those frequencies? Or better, what's on them? Can you translate for me, Ken?

And Kenneth says, "Translate them for yourself because they mean only what you want them to mean, they are the almighty AFFIRMATIVE. If you can accept this then do and live as if you do, let those unfamiliar sounds inspire you to create."

"Create", I say, dumbfounded. "I haven't felt as if creating would do me any good. What's it all for? To look back on someday and lament that I didn't shoot the moon?"

"But you did shoot the moon."

"I shot at the moon, but I missed. That's the part that keeps me from taking it all on faith that there isn't some kind of dire warning mixed in with the positive thinking."

"Ah, but perhaps you're right," Kenneth says and then asks if I'd ever heard of the Ghost of the Moon. I tell him I hadn't and he rips into this legend about how the brilliant orb we see in the heavens when midnight comes was once brighter than our own sun. The alien culture at the time found a way, accidently of course, to blow that thing up just to see what might happen. What happened was that we have not just a moon but what is in actuality the Ghost of a sun which we now call a moon, hence the Ghost of the Moon or something like that. It's said to have extremely wonderful powers to those who put their faith in it's ability to transform. You should pray to the Ghost of the Moon when you're feeling really down and blue. It might help."

"Kenneth," I addressed the young man, "You are a stone cold fool, all this stuff about ghosts."

He conceded. "Perhaps you're right. Might not be anything to it."

I was surprised by how quickly he'd conceded but wasn't in the mood to quibble about something so inconsequential.

Our starship moves with a beautiful grace, dancing with the waves of starlight that crash up against her. Telomere in our rear view mirror we rushed on to our next destination: a banana shaped planet in the center of Hoioto Galaxy. The Hoioto tribunal having petitioned us to investigate a conspiracy theory known simply as "Thousand Stars". Armed with cheap Acer laptops we had accepted that challenge and now we're 9/10ths of the way into debunking it. That's a lot of work done in a short amount of time.

But let's try to make some sense here. Let's not do as we have been, writing something for the sake of simply practicing typing. Deleting everything in disgust and despair that I just can't do it like before.

Saturday, December 14, 2019

Bill Hunky's Terminal Kleptomania (Chapter One)

Bill Hunky's terminal kleptomania manifested at a very early age when, as an exuberant and naughty five year old he snatched a few pieces of bubblegum from the candy rack at the grocery store where his parents had been shopping. Not surprisingly he was found out by his mother when he took a few pieces from his hidden pocket and she spotted him putting something in his mouth. A time-hardened glob of Super Bubble gave little Bill away and his mother was furious. She gave him a quarter and made him go inside, pay the cashier for what he'd stolen and apologize for the felonious theft.

His mother had hoped that by doing this he would forever remember the humiliation of the task he'd been given, perhaps it would prevent him in the future from doing it again if he recalled the shame and embarrassment, the disappointed look in the store manager's eye, the whole sad affair...and it may have...for awhile.

But not too many years afterwards...in his pubescent years, he went on a shoplifting spree that would have made seasoned pros jealous. The jig went a little something like this...

Bill and his two early childhood pals, Kevin and David, were transported across the small town every day in a school bus because the cafeteria/lunch room were in different buildings than the classrooms. Alas, it was easy walking distance if a student had a mind to forsake the bus ride provided. These were the days before yearly mass shootings in public schools plus the relative naiveté of a small town community perhaps gave them a sense of security then which would seem less than secure now.

Which is to explain how Bill, Kev and Dave were able to gain access to not one, but two different stores five days a week as they trudged, early 70s gangsta thugesque, from their lunch back to afternoon classes.

No one knows from whom came the suggestion, but one of the boys decided it would be fun to stop at Hershey's Variety and steal candy from the rack while the cashier wasn't looking...which was often enough seeing as how they got away with it for two weeks and would have kept the streak alive if the lady at the SECOND store they stopped at on the way hadn't suspected, correctly mind you, that they were doing the same thing there.

Every single day of the school week they did this, loading pockets with all manner of sweet vittles, until the aforementioned incident in which the old lady who procured the Round House market thought she saw one of them in the act of stealing. She let the trio of crooks walk out the door but followed them this time and spoke up...about what you'd expect she'd say:

"'xcuse me, boys, but did one of you walk out of the store without paying for something?" That's what she said. See, I told you it was predictable. What wasn't predictable was Bill Hunky's response.

Boldly, if perhaps stupidly, he opened his coat and showed her the bounty, "No, ma'am, we got this stuff from Hershey's."

It's doubtful the elder lady was so unwise as to take Hunky at his word but Kev and Dave, not wanting to miss a role in the comedy playing out in front of them persistently insisted, "No, ma'am, we wouldn't do that", "You don't sell this brand of candy, we got it all from old lady Hershey".

The woman told the kids not to come back, which was wasted words because they'd all three made the decision to carry that request out without being asked. The fear of God had been put in them, their Junior High school career in thievery was nipped in the bud. Just as well because between the three of them they had enough surplus stolen candy to rot their teeth before graduating high school.

The trio would look back, in days to come, on this commandment shattering work they'd done in early days with amazement in how they weren't afraid a bit of being caught. Kevin would say it was reckless stupidity and Dave would chuckle and agree...but Bill Hunky would say he had the time of his life and would do it all again if he could go back in time. He didn't realize it then but by now he's come to recognize this as the terminal kleptomania I spoke of earlier...he lived to steal again...many, many times.