- Doctor, doctor I feel so sad in my broken heart and I'm so lonesome, I could cry. *sob*
- There, there my dear, here, take a tissue.
Pause.
What are you waiting for? Get out. I have cured you.
Friday, 23 April 2010
Thursday, 22 April 2010
Running Water contd
xi.
What a beautiful pumpkin patch, she, C., exclaims as we drive past it. I force myself to agree. I do not tell her that amongst the potential Halloween lanterns lurks Nosferatu and MarvinTheMartian and a blood stained Ted Bundy; it is getting late and we needn't, both of us, be scared like me.
xii.
If you want me, I'll be in the bar, she says as she kisses my cheek goodbye. I take the time to watch her walk away along the railroad tracks, and, without my noticing, she is gone. I question if she ever existed, except for a tingling sensation felt in my cheek, her existance in my life passes with no trace. Nonetheless, She'll be ok, I say to myself, hoping that the Gods will consent.
xiii.
The wheels of the car fall off from either pathetic fallacy or inadvertent telekinesis or the bump in the road. Knowing that I will now have to walk many miles, carrying my dear dead friend, I ram my head into the steerinwheel, harmonisin with the cacophony. After hours of this, I fill my pockets with as much amphetamine from the glovebox I can carry and we leave. I realise neither of us have eaten since I shot him.
xiv.
Up there, on the top of the hill, I notice a farm. I climb the driveway. What you boys doin on my property asks the owner. Sir , we are on a pilgrimage, weary and hungry and willing to work for keep I explain. Him too he inquires of Clarence, the hardest worker I ever knew. I shrug. There is a pause.Come in and wash up and stay away from my daughter, she's bad news, he tells me. You too, by the looks of things, he observes.
What a beautiful pumpkin patch, she, C., exclaims as we drive past it. I force myself to agree. I do not tell her that amongst the potential Halloween lanterns lurks Nosferatu and MarvinTheMartian and a blood stained Ted Bundy; it is getting late and we needn't, both of us, be scared like me.
xii.
If you want me, I'll be in the bar, she says as she kisses my cheek goodbye. I take the time to watch her walk away along the railroad tracks, and, without my noticing, she is gone. I question if she ever existed, except for a tingling sensation felt in my cheek, her existance in my life passes with no trace. Nonetheless, She'll be ok, I say to myself, hoping that the Gods will consent.
xiii.
The wheels of the car fall off from either pathetic fallacy or inadvertent telekinesis or the bump in the road. Knowing that I will now have to walk many miles, carrying my dear dead friend, I ram my head into the steerinwheel, harmonisin with the cacophony. After hours of this, I fill my pockets with as much amphetamine from the glovebox I can carry and we leave. I realise neither of us have eaten since I shot him.
xiv.
Up there, on the top of the hill, I notice a farm. I climb the driveway. What you boys doin on my property asks the owner. Sir , we are on a pilgrimage, weary and hungry and willing to work for keep I explain. Him too he inquires of Clarence, the hardest worker I ever knew. I shrug. There is a pause.Come in and wash up and stay away from my daughter, she's bad news, he tells me. You too, by the looks of things, he observes.
Sunday, 11 April 2010
Running Water (the story formerly known as: The Possibilities Are Uninfinite) parts 7-10
vii.
it's only gonna get worse before it gets even worse, she jokes as she serves me another beer. I am about to make good on her flirtations when a group of locals compliment me on the dead nigger. I fly at them with a broken bottle but no amount of Achillean rage can save me from the savage beating I take. I wake in the gutter alive; How did this happen? Who saved me? Was she my guardian angel? Is Clarence?
viii.
After what seems like days, I finally find a car that works. An old one made to last. Clarence takes the back seat, chauffered, and I get behind the wheel. It is Vinyl Thursday, playing all your favourite albums in their most physical form across the digital airwaves. Today it is the White Album on loop. With my first brandy of the day, I start the engine and put my foot down on the pedal. HeltEr SkelTer.
ix.
By the stone wall I take a right. She sits on the edge with her thumb in the air. Twenty metres of thought away I decide to stop. She slides off the edge and runs to the car as I open the door. Before she has even seated herself properly, she asks, in regards to Clarence, What happened to him? He slept with my wife, I answer. Musta been a heck of a time she says. And it still is.
x.
After a long while of open road I put my hand on her knee. She shoos it off, telling me, I once knew a man like that and I really hated it. She looks at me with sorrowful look, pleading something. Excuse me, I explain, I'm rather drunk. All the more reason to keep both hands on the wheel, she snarls. Don't worry Cleo, it'll be ok, the road goes on like this, straight on, and on, for miles and miles, I tell her. Looking ahead, we both sigh.
it's only gonna get worse before it gets even worse, she jokes as she serves me another beer. I am about to make good on her flirtations when a group of locals compliment me on the dead nigger. I fly at them with a broken bottle but no amount of Achillean rage can save me from the savage beating I take. I wake in the gutter alive; How did this happen? Who saved me? Was she my guardian angel? Is Clarence?
viii.
After what seems like days, I finally find a car that works. An old one made to last. Clarence takes the back seat, chauffered, and I get behind the wheel. It is Vinyl Thursday, playing all your favourite albums in their most physical form across the digital airwaves. Today it is the White Album on loop. With my first brandy of the day, I start the engine and put my foot down on the pedal. HeltEr SkelTer.
ix.
By the stone wall I take a right. She sits on the edge with her thumb in the air. Twenty metres of thought away I decide to stop. She slides off the edge and runs to the car as I open the door. Before she has even seated herself properly, she asks, in regards to Clarence, What happened to him? He slept with my wife, I answer. Musta been a heck of a time she says. And it still is.
x.
After a long while of open road I put my hand on her knee. She shoos it off, telling me, I once knew a man like that and I really hated it. She looks at me with sorrowful look, pleading something. Excuse me, I explain, I'm rather drunk. All the more reason to keep both hands on the wheel, she snarls. Don't worry Cleo, it'll be ok, the road goes on like this, straight on, and on, for miles and miles, I tell her. Looking ahead, we both sigh.
Sunday, 28 March 2010
Cinema
Controversial film
Bunuel film
Black & white
I think of you while watching the manipulated light.
Bunuel film
Black & white
I think of you while watching the manipulated light.
Thursday, 25 March 2010
Running Water (episodes 1-6)
1.
We were drunk. The house had guns in it and I shot him. He was my best friend and I loved him dearly. As he died we made amends. I was to take him back to his hometown to be buried amongst his ancestors. My wife, of course, would be, at best, nonplussed by the notion. She has no comprehension of honour, at least not in the Homeric sense.
2.
She doesn't take it well. It's the other side of the world, you have no car, you have no money; she tells me, as if I do not already know. Why can't you bury him here? she asks. Because this land is a shit-hole, I tell her. She crys and so do I. It is our last night together.
3.
Is uncky Clarence a-sleepin' pop? he asks. No Maurice, Uncle Clarence is dead, I shot him in the stomach, I tell him, Beware the fury you have inherited from me son, it will be your downfall and is about to leave you fatherless. I make to leave. Where you going with dead uncky Clarence? I must plant him under the tree of our childhoods'. Oh, he say and goes to bed. I do leave, heart broken.
4.
The sun's burning is today articulated through the amber shade with which it colours the sky. I pass the men setting their crop ablaze and, they hope, with the flames, destroying the locusts devouring it. The fire becomes the afterglow of my presence in this town. I leave to become just a memory signified by the ash on the plain.
5.
Vultures circle themselves into a jagged coil up above my head. They goad me, they want me to hand over dead Clarence. They beseech me, they will make it easier upon me when my time too does come if I comply. I cannot, I throw a rock skyward, scraping one of their formidable wings. Before flying away, until another day, they prophesise my death; their shrieks indicate that it will be unpleasant.
6.
It's midday, or at least it appears to be, when I arrive in the city. The sun beats down on the streets, and upon building after building. Arrakis, I say to Clarence.
-----
* Running Water is a serial of Facebook status updates telling the story of Joey Joe and dead Clarence. A sort of barmy idea to up the quality of stuff on there. Please bear in mind that with the intended medium of the story, live feeds et al., and whatnot, there is an ellipsis of time, and usually space, between the episodes.
Warm Regards,
S.K.
We were drunk. The house had guns in it and I shot him. He was my best friend and I loved him dearly. As he died we made amends. I was to take him back to his hometown to be buried amongst his ancestors. My wife, of course, would be, at best, nonplussed by the notion. She has no comprehension of honour, at least not in the Homeric sense.
2.
She doesn't take it well. It's the other side of the world, you have no car, you have no money; she tells me, as if I do not already know. Why can't you bury him here? she asks. Because this land is a shit-hole, I tell her. She crys and so do I. It is our last night together.
3.
Is uncky Clarence a-sleepin' pop? he asks. No Maurice, Uncle Clarence is dead, I shot him in the stomach, I tell him, Beware the fury you have inherited from me son, it will be your downfall and is about to leave you fatherless. I make to leave. Where you going with dead uncky Clarence? I must plant him under the tree of our childhoods'. Oh, he say and goes to bed. I do leave, heart broken.
4.
The sun's burning is today articulated through the amber shade with which it colours the sky. I pass the men setting their crop ablaze and, they hope, with the flames, destroying the locusts devouring it. The fire becomes the afterglow of my presence in this town. I leave to become just a memory signified by the ash on the plain.
5.
Vultures circle themselves into a jagged coil up above my head. They goad me, they want me to hand over dead Clarence. They beseech me, they will make it easier upon me when my time too does come if I comply. I cannot, I throw a rock skyward, scraping one of their formidable wings. Before flying away, until another day, they prophesise my death; their shrieks indicate that it will be unpleasant.
6.
It's midday, or at least it appears to be, when I arrive in the city. The sun beats down on the streets, and upon building after building. Arrakis, I say to Clarence.
-----
* Running Water is a serial of Facebook status updates telling the story of Joey Joe and dead Clarence. A sort of barmy idea to up the quality of stuff on there. Please bear in mind that with the intended medium of the story, live feeds et al., and whatnot, there is an ellipsis of time, and usually space, between the episodes.
Warm Regards,
S.K.
Thursday, 18 March 2010
An open letter to Earth
Dear Planet,
From my observations, I am led to believe you were once a thing of around about infinite beauty. On behalf of my people I would like to apologise for disfiguring you so.
Sincerely,
Sam Kastin.
From my observations, I am led to believe you were once a thing of around about infinite beauty. On behalf of my people I would like to apologise for disfiguring you so.
Sincerely,
Sam Kastin.
Friday, 5 February 2010
After all
J- But, you know, really, after all, you can't really complain too much.
Pause.
R- After all what?
J- What?
R- Forget it.
Pause.
R- After all what?
J- What?
R- Forget it.
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