Tu Moxy Returnith

Begin.







(A tevision set walks across the stage holding a poster board. The television set is smiling, and the board reads;



Animals.)



( Cutain rises to Steck begining a presentation for the exectutive board members of a powerfull television network.)



Steck This is the flop, boys.



(Steck is interupted by a seven well-dressed cave-men ambling towards him from the darkness. They're holding cups of coffee and trays of office muffins above their heads, and are offering them to Steck as if he were a God. Steck keeps them away (but still onstage) with a series of awful clicking noises.)





Steck My show has been number one in the two o'clock socket for more than three weeks, now.



(Steck lights a cigarette to compensate for the crowds lack of enthusiasm. The creatures grunt at the flame.)

Steck: We have grade A actors for third grade prices- and the writers might as well be the most creative monkeys in the universe, because they smile when we give em' checks that make the wellfare swell with pride.


(Steck flicks his cigarette amongst the monkeys, who scatter, but cautiously regroup around the curiously flickering embers.)



Steck Our producers have un-wittingly signed contacts which, for six years, give us intimate rights to the very essence of their souls. We could just as easily disect their still beating hearts for the betterment of clown-monkey research as lace them up in evening gowns to dance the night away.


(The creatures are hopping up and down on their haunches chanting, Steck produces a remote control from his waistcoat and turns on a television in the darkness. The creatures immediatly settle down and begin to moan longingly at the flickering box. Steck continues.)



Steck I don't say this to every suit I encounter, but quite honestly-
I'm very fond of each and every one of you.
I feel we share an unspoken bond of casual professionalism
that reflects upon...some very important things.
It's for this reason that I come to you- instead of your friends
and familes with the pictures and documents that I have 'duplicated'
and taped to the bottom of your chairs.


(In envelopes, on the bottom of every chair- are pictures of geese.)



Steck Protect your eggs, ladies and gentlemen, and protect them well.
Daddy's got salt in the shotgun.
Daddy's not afraid to shoot.



(An OFFICE CLERK walks hurridly across the stage, her arms brimming with professional leather bound books. As she nears center stage, one of the books falls from the stack and lands near the group of huddled creatures. One of them peels its eyes away from the television long enough to glance at the book's fluttering pages, and it approaches it for a more detailed look.)



Steck Now- if any of you feel that I have misjudged your character in any way......please...understand that you are wrong-
I know everything. Everything.
I know what songs your daughter sings in the shower.
I know what your loved ones whisper in your ear before they go to sleep at night.



(The creature reading the book abrubtly stands to his full heighth and continues scanning the pages as he paces around upstage.)



Steck What I want from you is simple. It's the same thing I want from every other living creature on this planet- I want your Goddamned attention.



(The creature looks at Steck- at the book- at Steck- and back at the book again. The creature seems upset)



Steck Nothing more, nothing...



(The creature runs to Steck and beats him over the head with the book. Steck gurgles something incoherant, but is cut short as the creature removes his waistcoat. When the creature turns to speak to the crowd, his voice is cool and refined.)




Creature ...in conclusion-



(The Creature trails off and briefly scans the ranks of his former companions. All of them are staring at him expectantly- hopefully. One of them crawls to coo at the upright creatures feet, but is quickly dejected back into the pool of animals with a swift kick to the chest. The upright Creature smiles and continues.)



Creature ...in conclusion, for your cooperation...



(Enter, stage left, a scantilly clad prostitute holding a poster card which reads; 'TURN', and from stage right, an office clerk holding a tray of muffins. Both are walking a direct route to exit the stage on the opposite end to which they entered, but as they intersect in the middle, the office clerk turns to the Creature and mouths the word "Muffin?". At this time, the prostitute turns over her poster card which now reads "Muffin?")



Creature No, thank you.



(Exit clerk and prostitute.)



Creature -for your cooperation. . . I . .



(The huddled creatures have turned the volume up on thier television set. We can hear the static as well as see it. The upright creature is transfixed.)



Creature Y'know. . for. . the uh. .



(The creatures should be assembled in such a way that their backs are towards the audience. It should appear as if they are sitting inside of a whitewater raft. The upright creature walks to the front of the raft and sits down ontop of the glowing television. Enter Confused Man, stage left, who is holding a Toaster oven, which reads:


RIVER.)



(A white water rafting guide is facing towards his passengers, who have their backs turned towards the audience.)



Joshua OK. If everybody could go ahead and pull their oars out of the water
and place them in the center of the raft...great...I'm gonna try and take
advantage of this calm stretch of water here- and tell you guy's a little
more about what we're going to be going up against today.
First, though; i'd like to introduce myself, uh..I know some of you I met
while we were loading up...Charlie, hey! And was it Delores? Good!
I'm not as bad with names as I thought. Jeez, I almost forgot mine, huh!
My name is Joshua, and I'm gonna be your white water raftin' captain.
Now, we're gonna be goin up against some big, dangerous waters out
there- so don't be fooled by the pamphlet. Fun, family adventure aside-
this is treacherous stuff and I want all of you to be just as prepared as
I am. Are you guys with me so far? Great.
Now, just a quick show of hands; how many of you have white water
rated before? One? Two? THREE! Wow. Three vetran river ponies.
That is great. That is terrific. What that means all of you first timers,
is that we're gonna have a lot of extra support out there today; catching
overboards, rowing counter currents, gettin' those rookies comftorable
with their oars...are there any questions so far?

(Beat)


Joshua No?
Alright...so what I want everybody to do is smile, have a good
time...and let the stream tug us on down the river.
I'm gonna go ahead and curl myself into a ball here at the front of the raft
and try to relax as many muscles as I can before all this Crank and LSD
turns me into a fuckin' serial killer.


(Long uncomftorable silence as the passengers turn worriedly to one another for support. The guide indeed curls into a ball at the front of the raft. After a beat- he begins to make animal noises.)


Joshua Oh, quick note, uh...
Theres a few important turns we need to make up ahead...to avoid waterfalls...death and, y'know...concentrate! Teamwork! Vetrans! Got it?


(He rises partially from the front of the raft.)



Joshua I'm really gonna need that support, okay? Especially the teamwork,
cause'...and I'm going to be completly honest with you guys- the last
time I took this much acid with this much speed, they had to drag us
off the edge of a fuckin' cliff-face with an Apache helicopter and...there
were..at least- several dozen babies coming out of my eyeballs.
And Hey! You know what? Why're you people even talkin' about
helicopters right now? Are we...on...are we on a helicpter? No.
We're having a family adventure on a Raft, and...I want you guys, first
and foremost- to have a good time. Not worry about goddamned Helio
Nazis rakin' Dolphins outta yer stomach- so those turns better matter.
So let's- lets be the come together, like this (He makes a fist in the air)
The big team. (He ducks down suddenly into the front of the raft.) ohmygod...did you see it? What was it?
~Pfooo~


(The guide begins to slap himself. There is a brief moment of composure.)

Joshua Look, uh..Ahem...quick tip here to all you big guys in the boat.
Any big guys? No? Alright, well- in the event I do start to freak out:
if you guys don't see me start to tucker out after the first couple of
thrashes...you're gonna need to try and beat me unconcsious with your
fists or...your oars- or something. Cause if I black out after a seizure-
I'm liable to just...blind rush anything with two legs and the smell of fear.

(ENTER CECIL- apparantly walking on water.)

Joshua -but apparantly people can walk on water now, so...I guess it's not that
big of a deal.

Cecil We took too much, man. Do you think we took too much?

Joshua I don't know. Do you see any moderate looking rapids up ahead?

Cecil What man? What?

Joshua Don't you freak out on me, buzzkill. I'm having a fun family adventure
and I don't want it tainted with your maddness.

Draphian

When I (Kan) came down to Austin for one of my longer stays here, beginning in the Summer of '02, I actually had the opportunity to finally spend some time with the creature Chadwick. On one of those nights, he asked me only to outline a drawing for him. What I came up with was the black and white version of this picture here portrayed. While I had been drawing, I gave Chadwick my MP3 player, introducing him to the song “Teardrop” by Massive Attack. When the drawing changed hands to him, he kept the MP3 player, and had the song on repeat the entire night as he began shading, coloring and patterning the portrait of the half-dragon, half-phoenix.

I woke up to a picture somewhat like this one, though his spiraling lines and gradient colors are not something I have replicated here. You see, that particular portrait, as the story goes, was picked up by the wind and swept outside of Chadwick’s car to its utter destruction, and so that picture now exists in his and my memory alone. Though this version I have made will ever remind me of it, or the presence of Chadwick or the playing of the song “Teardrop.” That song has enough awesome attachments to it, that playing it is like reading some of your own favorite journal entries all together at once.

~φ~

...and now the News!

Some news on Chadwick. Our brother made squad leader in Boot Camp, then made Tank Commander. He finished Boot, and immediately opted for Ranger Training. Picture a smiling poster child for ADHD straddling a tank turret, swinging a cowboy hat in one hand and yelling for everyone to open fire. That is the image that entered my head when hearing this, although Chadwick has exceeded every expectation… sine one thing… you can always expect him to be surprising. He’s certainly succeeded. What a story. What a life!

...end commercial...

A vast Multitude of Donkeys

VastMultitudeOfDonkeys
"Do you know what we need, right now?"



"What? Purpose?"



"Nope."



"Chicks?"



"nuh-uh. A legion of donkeys."



"We need donkeys more than chicks?"



"No- A legion of donkeys, man...pack animals;

for us and all our stuff."



"We don't have that much stuff."



"So?"



"So...how many donkeys are in a legion?"



"Thousands."



"...right- and theres only two of us...so..."



"So?"



"Okay, well...I guess I just don't understand."



"We need a legion...because a legion can split into three equal hordes."



"A horde?"



"Yes. A vast multitude of donkeys."

Mexico

(Editor: All the following entries were written by Chadwick, then torn out of their various books, copied, pasted together [in an order only the mind of the writer understood] and rebound to resemble a notebook. I have selected those related to each other through the trip the writer and I took into the depths of Mexico, back up into the Yucatan Peninsula, and then back towards America. My intention here, as with his other writings, is for the preservation of his work--the transcription from paper to hypertext; not editing. The entries below may or may not have any chronological order, as I--who was there--have had to organize each page by my own memories which, after reaching Campeche and beyond, wasn't very temporally sound...at all...)

                      [Ed. Begin Entries...]                        

  Asleep on the shore with his hands over his head
and the deep Mexican sunlight washing through the
cloudless outereaches of the distant horizon, he
wakes up and belches water onto a swarm of insects-
Watches the liquid slip into the rivers currents.
A bird passes overhead and black clouds dust his
vision.  More water from his lungs and a choke.



  Asleep on the shore with his hands over his head,
the deep Mexican sun washing through his grey
crackled face.


 and the deep Mexican sun is washing over his
features as the no rain/no clouds temperment of
this place could never do

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

Phrase for the day.
    !Damas para peasos!
       we're going for a walk.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

                                                I
  So, after we hit the church and               m
make a sign - Carlos hits us up
  and gives us a ride.                          a

Now, there are many words for Carlos.           b
            Fat, comes to mind.                 a
      and Smart, is another.                    g
      ... Funny....too....
         oh... and mexican.                     o
                                                f
          truly mexican 
                                                l
(Note. i feel bossy - ordering Jaya around      a
       to speak Spanish for me.  its....        u
       unsettling.)                             g
                                                h
      he speaks just enough english             s
      to make him a fucking scholar
      in my book.                               h
     narrowing out                 these        e
hugely difficult                                r
words...not                                     e
to ask who
was (which he                  had done with    b
grace) or where were going (that had            u
 already been established with the Sign)        d
 but to eschew upon us a vastly simpler         d
and intelligent worldview-given only when       y
 asked - and added upon only when
 neccesary.  He was brilliant...

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

Fanterrific.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

and when he dropped us off at the border,
he felt obliged to walk with us inside
Until he felt we were safe.
             Not a penny was exchanged
             Gracias, buddy.

                Nuevo Laredo.
         began with Chaos.

         Some dude named joe outside
        a pharmacy asking us if we
         wanted any Special-K,
         viagra, oxys, up, down,
         leftwards, downwards......

         then some dude next to a
         horse...
             " You wanna see girl cho'
            bars? donkey? donkey cho'.

                No donkey cho, bro'.
                  " oh."

            we  exchanged $10 into
                   100 pesos
           and then stood outside of some
           freakshow ice-cream parlour.
           trying to understand Mexican
           economy (the value of a peso
          by purchasing cokes and cigarettes,
               and tequilla.....hmmm

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

grasping the basics, we fought through the
pill nazi's and broke into something
at least slightly resembling reality - but....
in reality... resembling more something
slightly resembling similarmore fucking chaos.

       it was.... ohmygod.
       i felt like a Suburban teenage-virgin
       girl being peer pressured into mainlining
       heroin by the Southside LA crips

              muy bueno.
              esta bien.
             mucho weird...

       Then the train.  we followed it down
          the tracks to where it

                   180'd

              and were wondering if we
              could hop it, and if so-

                oh jesus this isnt happening.

                 butifitis

then....then.... if all of these schoolchildren
can hop trains to their houses after thier
studies are done.....

   we can surely.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

but first, methamphetamines.
     The guy @ the counter
      of the pharmacy said,
       and this is after numerous
      Sketches (by myself)
       and the resulting translations
       (by jaya) - that Aderal
       was not available
        And he said it with Such
        gusto that I knew it wasn't
        legal anyway.

* Note: Mexico smells just as I
    imagined=Mexican...  good
     and bad in the same weird
      aroma.

    This led us (stupidly) to another
  pharmacy where, when denied our Money -
   we fell frowning into charlie-who had
   been waiting for us outside the
    pharmacy after witnesing our
     last debachle....and who had
      "You want pills?" he asked.
      #$%&^%&@!!#@ only one functioning
hand.      it looked like a gingerroot.
      "pills?"
      "Aderoll"
      " Si."
      "Terrific."
           and we were off.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

down a winding road and into a
smoky bar - out of a smokey bar and
into a crowded street.Out of there
and into more weird places.
      And then there was the Rx office.
       or...'Medicos'....
       ginger skipped where, following
      ginger skips lead, we tromped
      into a bare, stinking, Hot-wooden
       box of a storefront and into
       a lamp-lit cabnit office with
       a fine ass chicana secretary
       smiling for us to come in.

            police! i thought!
            we are fucked.
           McMexican Jail.
               no good.

 So not good, i thought, that if this
daffy bitch trys to get stumpy here
 to restrain me,,,i will eat her soul
  with my mind and planther littlebug-eyed
  mexican pop-tart out with the radishes
  where he belongs.

       " Pills? " she asks
        did she say jail . I tense .
      "No,pills goddamn it,pills!"

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

and we are handed a menu.
    i am crying inside.
this sheet of paper cannot be real.
  oh but  it is....
    real expensive as well.
       but real nontheless.

   "we cannot aford this" Jaya says,
   " How much can you afford ?" Stumpy asks.
   " Not this, and these are what we
     want.Sorry," and we stand to leave.
   "wait,wait. What do you have?"
   " Not enough." but as he says this,
    I slip him my cd player.and
    he smiles.   
   "We have this and 20 dollars .
    Take it or leave it."

      More winding roads
    into another shop. we aproach
   a park - he motions at a
    place for us to sit.

   " Now. You give $20 to me."
    "No"We say. "Are you fucking
     crazy?"
    " You can watch," he motions
      to a building

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

   and we did ...and he eventualy
resurfaced from the rubble of pale-
obnoxious colors to motion for us to follow.
   and we did....
            exchange made.
          one more....ginger root shake....
           and "poof."

         into Stephen
         another... guide...I guess.. ..
               and he takes us to a bar
               ~~~  where we drink
                ~~~ and cover our adderoll
                 ~~~  or rittalin, or whatever.
  By this point, it is clear that we are not
crossing back over the border, In fact, it seems
as if we might push ourselves to Brazil
 by morning, and with this in mind-

   " is there a local bus How much are
     bus tickets   out of here? "

    " To where? "

    " To Merida."

    "¿a Que es distancia esta Merida?"

    "How the fuck should  we know ?  "

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

   actually we didn't say that.

" 200 bucks",he says as I wine.

        so much for the
         chicken bus.

I have no passport, by the way....
      and, while, getting into
      the bordertowns is an easy
      task -
           getting past the first
           checkpoint is not.

         They check, I suppose for
         criminals.

            Thus,we plan.

As for the train- no good...I dunno why,
but no good... Stephan said they check that
shit @ a seperate checkpoint 13 miles into
Mexico, as opposed to the 35 miles on the
road,andAs only one checkpoint is daunting
enough on its own-the idea of cracking
through another one seemed like torture.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

As for talking my way out of it - no way -
 no go at all -  I can barely ordercoffee
 without getting some sort of black tar
 heroin in its placeand I can't imagine where
 trying to persuade the Mex border controll
 would land me--probably the electric chair
 pinata or some bullshit like that.

 Ah, and then of course, thes the12milehike around
the checkpoint, which...while sexy in its
own right ... is not .... at all . . . .
           and fuck that....

 but.... after taking the city bus ( which
people (oh god this is silly ...)hit...to...stop....
                 mmm...hmm....
                 heha...he...hee...
                   HA HAHAAAAA!!!
!whew!
  -after taking the city bus as far down as
  10 miles out of the city, (awesome) @#$!%^@
  ^%&%$# @#% we stoped at this a
    The city bus took us to a restaraunt
  10 miles out of the city.  We ate.
           Jaya took off his shoes.
           we popped pills.
         !%@#%@!!!
           we left
     we walked with our thumbs outstretched
  to the highway on our left, and our

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

slumped beaten shoulders arched to the
field of trash on our right.
       The deep, red, mexican
       sunset lay rosy somewhere
       between.

   Night.
          PEMEX station.
            Truck stop.
       and  oh thank heaven for
     mexican truckers.
         They can
   it was suggestedthatwe g get someone
   to drive us across in a trailer,
   and remembering thinking of my
   family and friends subconsiously
   urging that this suggestion be
   dismissed outright -
            i agreed.

       So here we are.
           waiting.

   i feel bad having Jaya spend his
   last week alive with me.
         i feel like dead weight.

           but wait,
      we got picked up.
          by Pablo Alton.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

|This entire notebook should be
|devoted entirely to Truck drivers.
|
|pablo | Uriel
|
|     Mexican Truck drivers specificaly
|
|         JAYA WILL KILL US
\~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

          i woke up in the back
          of some semi-
           nono    pablos semi....
           truly in Mexico..
                  Now....
                  Shit.....

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

  i drew that picture because I was
nervous....I was nervous because
Pablo was trying to sell me to Maria
a hot older woman.
                 Hot
     like...
         anyway...i think my...er...
       Pablos pill kicked in....
                 Rosie is....
                  hot too....
         I think ....
               I just...
               woke up here.
                bueno.
               oh so mui bueno!
       maybe this page should come to a close.
            before I do.

        No...

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

  There, we walked down the highway
in dissapointment after three city busses
 passed us by at the bus stop .

       we drank EmergenCy
         with many juice
           (and peach)
       then walked into the lego jungle
           (as it were)
         complete with stray horses
         and a creepy - gaudy playground.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       
                               (What is it
                              with us and busses)
 Sketchy.  Shaky.

  its all good untill somebody shouts
their footoff.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting here in thiss coffeeshop,
       in that coffee shop.
    i am here now-
    in some motel south of linares

we took a bus from Monteray
to we bought a bus ticket
from Monteray to Montemorelos
but stayed on until linares
wh remained on board past
when our stop came to pass.
Now, we had hoped that
the bus would take us on
 into Ciudad victoria
or  even  Tampico , but when
 everybody filed out in
   linares - we had
 little left   but to do
the Same.
     This proved to be
   somewhat of a mistake
     it seems.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

 perhaps, in reflection, deciding to lie
and remain on the bus was the mistake.
 however, in contrast, 
   But whatever the turning point,
     we were now in the desolate
   Mexican version ofanabsolute gringo
   hell.... sort of.
       it kind of reminded me of
   what Nuevo Laredo was supposed
   to be like after dark-
     except it was 4:00 in the
     afternoon and the donkeys
     were still in the stables
     with the other animals.

  Kan, as I will now call Jaya from
this point on, decided to pass on the
cyber cafe in the bus station (and another
on a street nearby) for the public library
about 20 blocks down the street. .
   There, he said, we would find what
   we were looking for.
           oh, Kan.
 The public library, it turned out, was the
 (which was called the culture center).
 is, in fact, a 'culture center', and amongst
 the many books (all in spanish ... and*note
as i grumbled in aggrivation at the tedious arduous
task of translation - Kan pointing, smiling,
 to the childrens section..and I immediatly

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

become more studios)- amongst these
books and galleryesque  black/white
photographs ... there were @ least
 35 policia, in uniform, at some type
 of seminar in the center.
   This i knew not of, when mentioning
 my terrible hitchhikers stink to Kan,
 (who thussuggested a speedy departure
  to the beach (or Tampico)
  he suggested we leave for the road immediatly
 not realizing that the 35 policia
 were mirroring our intentions-
          and exiting en mass
       from the door parallel
        to the library.
   ( I... by the way ....
         still have no passport,in case
any of you might have thought somehow
 conjectured that my ass was, in fact,
  a government office.)

 imagine stealing

    imagine stealing costumes...
   from theaclown tent psychic
  clown tent - only to realize
  that the entire orginization
 was having a meeting in the
porta-potty not two blocks from
       your car.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

 dealing with American police, however,
gave us somewhat of an edge, and as
 Jay Kan moved to approach a particularly
  small group oftheclowns-i nodded my
       psychic head in agreement and followed
  looking purposfuly Confused.

   "¿Te donde Aieres?"
    "Austin de Tejas."
         I nod
    "tu carro?"
   "No, no ... carrillo."
     "Carrillo?!"
     " Si "
      I nod.

     anyway all this shit happens
     after we goto a church and pray -
           we end up in a motel
             Where we meet

            Guillermos and Raphael-
                 \/
 outside of the apartmant

         many -many miles to
             |
            Here__the Beach.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

They say no, no ...
 banditos...
      stay here. .
     So we sleep on their roof.
       in the morning, they
       tell us to come back
       before the following morning -
       and we've got rides to
      -villahermosa-
           so off we walk into the
           Jungle-
               -so far-
                -far-
            and then here.

with  No  money.
      No  food.
      No  water.

    but with a ride even further
    into the jungle.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

  Im surprised at how relentlessly
 cool Mexico is - and how tolerant
 and accepting it people always
 seem to be.
  I am always in awe of the transiant charm
of this place - and of the giant, soul-
sucking mosquitos which plauge my
every waking step ... no...good thoughts...
the sunset...the... happy ... fun....
sweltering maddness of the sun...
           So. . . not ... Good
 i ...hate .... the nights here.
     i love the days.

  if i could say goodbye to mexico, if i
could voice my images of her to some
red-cross thank-you box in the sky-
         i would say gracias -
        and please get rid of the bugs....
           because goddamn.

             Goddamn.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

 This country is....wicked pimp.
       like nobody's fucking buisness.

            but...
this is kind of rough.
          we are ... 25klm north of veracruz.
    we might be catching a ride into the
   city tommorrow morning, ... but as
   of now- we're on Some beach
   in the middle of nowhere.
      when Raphael and Jerry
      dropped us off in         
    we immediatly went to find
    some coffee--i wanted to smoke
    all of my cigarettes - all of them.
        i'm just zoning out--sorry -
           uhh....
    we got aphone card - but didn't use it.
    walked on the turnpike due east-
          (to the beach)
    and ended up at some families
    home at the edge of the Jungle -
        "Donde esta las playas?"
        They tell us through..there...
            Somewhere...pointing
      ....into the Jungle... ..
        we start to walk..
          its night.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

So   i dug Kans pocketknife out of
my knapsack and sharpened a walking
staff into a spear and
           turned to the only other
       thing i could - Lamar.....
        the fucking ocean.

Now, before i continue - for those
 of you who don't know me-
         i am pale-
       deathly pale
           white-
        as gringo as they come-
      only one step above albino.

  Mexican Sun Cooks me.

          i do not tan.

   On my way here- i had my arm
    out the window of Jerry's truck
         and it burned bad .

      to ... somewhat protect myself....
     i cut off the legs of my dickies
    and tied them the loose fabric
      around the exposed area,
    hoping that my skin would not
     crisp and become infected-

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

Not realizing that the defincincy of
nutrients would render my already
weak sunblock almost completely useless -
       I stood in the sea unafraid.

i am paying dearly for that mistake now.

  though  coffee, cigarettes and sweet bread
make me happy - i am still suffering
imensly for my stupid blank despondancy.

  But the Mexican night is cool
and it soothes both skin and soul simultaneusly-
       i am lucky to be here.
        i love my life - and I thank my
      friend for allowing me to participate
     in his quest for closure- in his
     journey to live.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

... a little too much sun.
      No..from there -
       we walked more -
        two - three hours more -
  and  allow me to reiterate the
   list of our meager inventory -

            everything we started with
            except for only 10 dollars

              -no cigarettes
              -no more Rygar
              -no more tequilla
              -very little water
              -no food

I had felt this way before -
      so ... completely NOT GOOD
   that the world around me
   lost all sense of beauty and truth
        Homesickness
    nost so much from the
    absence of friends or family,
     but from the absence of
       comfort -  from the
        comfort that comes
       with having friends
     and family.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

 i would look @ Jaya and... even
though he is both a friend and family-
 since he could offer no comfort @ the
 time -he became only a ghost of
 what i knew
     essentialy - my discomfort defined
     me withsucha disturbing clarity, that
which served to make me even more
uncomftorable        when we finaly
 did  get  to the beach-
  i was such a nervous wreck that i
could only enjoy the place for mere
  moments before becoming miserable
   and unconsolable.
     Badly needing food and water-
  I unsuccsesfully attempted to pillage
   coconuts from the nearby trees, since
     Some one had already foraged
     the fallen fruits -i was forced to
  monkey around with sticks and rocks for
    nearly three hours before becoming
     even more depressed than i already
      was and abandoning the project
      altogether.
          This was rock bottom.
          Jaya was asleep beneath
      our shaded 'blanket tent'- the
                 coconuts were laughing
        at me... i was hungry -
        unhappy-

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

  yet we escaped, and as you
might have noticed from the last
page of sorry, surrendered
depression .... things got a little rough.
      we left the rooftop
      @ Sunup expecting
      the road we observed
      the previous evening to
      continune all the way
      to the beach.
        Mexico will have none of
  that, thank-you.
     instead - it abrubtly ended
    on the edge of some corn
    Field where-a... path...i guess
    you could call it.... led to another
    path (these turned out to be
    drainage ditches) and ended
    again  at the crossing of a
    thick vegetetive river - waist deep
    with reeds  and  jungle foliage and
    Completely covering the flowing water
    itself.
     it was here that I morphed my
   body into a helicopter and flew
   us both to the land of free drugs
   and cigarettes.
     There, we met Jerryjim McFicklehorn
   and becamethe temporary rulers
   of ......

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

           (with Sunburn and purpose)
 i didn't think the sunburn would get worse..
i honestly did not.
     ithought...oh...its red....
            thats it.
but no... Mexico will have none of that, thank you.

          i cannot move.
        my body is dependent on shade
        and immobility.

  if this were a vacation- I could retire to my bed
and complain how my time was ruined by the sun,
but we have to push on - on ....
        we have business to attend.
        Kan has to kill demons - and I have
        to write it down.
  As bad as a sunburn can be without
 money or comfort - its really all I have
  left aside from my purpose.
             so i walk with it,
            become its friend.

 we arrived in Coaxtucoal at 1:30 on
 the 28th of march, and
         my body is a deep fried
         chicken strip.

     These fucking Jungle cities ....
         Jeez...

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

i stopped and prayed again on the way
here.
   Almost immediatly after getting off
in the city - we saw train tracks-
          | leading|
          |   to   |
          |Campeche|
          |  and   |
          |T H I S |
          |  was   |
          |G O O D |

  But, after waiting...er...sleeping....
  at the 'bus stop. (again, the busses
  dont really stop unless you catch their
   attention) for almost three hours--
        i dunno..
    we needed coffee,
     Unfortunatly -the people are
   catholics and refuse to open shop
     before three- so we had to
   walkforquite a ways before finding
    a place with coffee.

Anyways - here we are -
         staring @ two fine ass senoritas
   who are
         ~ ahem ~

      Staring back and smiling

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

    Catching the train   will be
hell.
       Hell on my Sunburn.
         Hell

But, whatever.  if this...
            shit-
              I'm zoning out again.



      its  this burn.
          OH!   Woe!  Woebe
      my fucking back! Fuck!!
        Fuck this fucking Sunburn!!


(A ship in harbour is safe, but that
 is not what they are builtfor.)
           author unknown.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

  I want.... hmm.... a blonde
Somebody...er.... Sort of blonde somebody-
     in my bed, in Austin.

  But now.... i want a story.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Soooo many hot senorita burritos-
     my chorizo is- yearning.

  i'm not quite sure if you're supposed to
 tip in this place - but.... we don't.
              er.

 Kan just called my sun burn
 "Strawberry cream"... i hate him.

    I'm not quite sure exactly
  why I'm here. I have a...vauge
   notion of what I'm supposed to
   be doing - but even that tends to
   blur arpimd tje edges @ times.
      what do  I know?

      Constant itching sux-
       Constant itching is a symptom
       of a recovering sunburn.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

   Sunburns are caused by the Sun-
      thus-
         Fuck a whole
         bunch of the sun.

i also hate mosquitos- there is no
 becoming a mosquitos friend.

      One cannot walk with a
       mostquito-
      and to Cut any smartasses off at
      the mark-
    one cannot Fly with a mosquito
    either.

      The dogs here are really
    unfortunate animals.
 if  it dosent have three legs or
 a  distended asshole -  then its
    either starving to death
    or thouroughly retarded.
    we saw one with two
    nutsacks.

 aside from the three legs bit-
i wonder if because of the language
 barrier- I am unable to determine
  if the same rule applies to
   the humans here.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

 So... checking out the busses-

   Campeche is....
   a bit too expensive.
 300 pesos per person.
         no thank you.
  instead we opt for a hike.
         to where?
          how?
        idunno
  but lets get the Fuck outta here.
          i can't tell which is worse ...
    the terrible burning
 or the terrible itching.
        one thing I do know...
       is
      FUCK
       THA
        Beach.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  One things for sure - i have
 an uncanny gift for spending pesos.
           un.
          canny.
like liquid stuff in my pockets.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

Now this is pretty funny...
  we're sitting @ this bus stop all
day trying to hop a freight train
to Campeche, but - as our luck with
trains is somewhat comparable to our
luck with city busses- all we end
up doing is reading and napping mostly.
       (Fill in gaps with
        stormy children lingering
        about the area.)
at the end of the day, after pleading
with my family to wire us some
 money - we decide to camp out
 somewhere down the street from the
  freight station in a huge,
  Supermarket Construction site filled
  with amongst other things -
         mosquitos.
    This, coupled with my terrible
   Sunburn was .... intolerable.
     So, #@!$#&*...
 On our way back to the bus-stop
i concocted a plan-

" What do you think about staying the
 night in a hotel?"

" With what money?"

" None. Credit. "

" Credit? "

" !Si! "

" Are you- Are you okay, man? Listen, lets
  get you a place to lie down."

" How about there?" pointing to la Haciend hotel.
  Kan was incredulous.  I continued speaking
 as I unhurridly led the way across the
 street--

 "listen, just try and translate for me as best
  you can -

   Ten minutes later, we're fast asleep
 beneath the cool streaming jets of a mexican
 air conditioner.
           The bed was pretty nice too.

in the morning, however- the entire staff is
waiting nervously for us in the lobby.

  One of us can leave while the other
  works to get the money - or both of
   us can wait in the air conditioned

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

lobby smoking cigarettes, watching Tv and
reading while we wait for the western
union to arrive.
    God... I... Love...this fucking
    Country.

  You see, at least until they get slow or
excessivly lazy- smart people don't go
to mexican prisons,
         We go to hotels.
          I'll be in touch.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Perhaps iwas ... excessivly egomaniacal in
the previous passages.
        Because, @ anytime - the old man
      running this joint could call up
        the Federalis and have us hauled
        up to a real mexican prison
        where we would undoubtedly be
        raped of our souls,
             but-

estamos lejos de los Estados Unidos
        we are far away from the united states

        estamos lejos de Tejas
         we are far away from Texas.

        ¿por donde esta el parque?

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

  21 mosqito bites - in one evening.
  if I catch Malaria - I'm coming
   back to this country with
   a shotgun and an appitite
   for insects.

          gringos.

We're on a bus heading out to
mayapan and Kan is telling me that
a lot of the fauna around the cities has
been imported.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

  and it is because we hate our lives when we
are given time to reflect upon them in great
detail that we explode with chaose - and
inflict upon this world we love ...the
restlessness it unknowingly bestows upon us.
    We are a product of our environments
   and are only here to test the
   waters for our succesors...whoever they might
   be.

   if there is any truth to the myths of bad
cities being homes to bad deities- then
coaxucoaltos has a nasty bitch of a daddy.
      i think we were brought here
    for a reason.  I think there are
    hunters here.  I think that we should
     return again to
      be certain.but for now-
   to sleep.  To enjoy airconditioning
 while it is available to us.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

  For the futherment of my impure
drive to control.
         If this makes me a bad person....
 Surely it makes Tara Reid the Devil.
        and ... yknow... even as I
 write this down .... I am still wishing
she were here .... holding my hand...
 whispering me to sleep.
  What the hell - how many deaf Austrians
can one meet in a day.  Is there an
expo in Mexico for european hearing aids?
       actually- I only met one....
            - but its still fucking wierd.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

  All of these things compound.  All of my hopes
and fears disolve at the mercy of my benefactors,
while the purpose of my journey - the heart of
my travels and the meaning of my coming here to
begin with - these things, i hope remain the
same.
  I pray these kindnesses do not poison my
mind or spoil the resivoirs of my creativity.
  ... I ... I...I....
  Sometimes Tara Reid or one of her clones will come
on TV @ home in America - and i'll wish that she
were mine and that all of this, her acting and
theatrics, were secretly for my benefit only.
  That when she smiles...she's really smiling at me.
  That when she closes her eyes, it is because i
am there behind her thoughts.
  But then i think of when we go place together and
when we are amongst a crowd of boys who want
to be me, and girls who want to be her-with
me- what that actually accomplishes to be with her
to begin with.
  it seems to be the entire purpose of my wanting
he to begin with- which renders the whole
of my wanting a vain and vile stem
of the imagination.
      Why?
Why does someone like Tara Reid arouse such thoughts.
 Suppose for a moment she was mine for a day....
would it not merely serve to make other girls
jealous?  Would it not make her simply a tool

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

     OK, look ...buddy.

       i no speak psycho babble

  Ok, look people....  I think all of you
are just plain weird.  There is simply
 no excuse for how ...bizarre you all
 are   I mean COMEON, general
      I cant even write a letter without
     getting all creeped out

   "stop writing us, then." you might say.
             ooohhh noooo ....
            I  won't be tricked that
               easily by your devil
                     games.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

         ~~~~~

  Breakfasthowever was good.
   Served by a beautiful woman who served
Kan with sweet eyes all morning.
      this is good.

] Urgon - great black dragon of the
]  desert.  fought with pheonix-
]         pheonix crashed to earth-
]          breaking open ground-
]     Urgon fell in -
]               This happened in Death
]                valley.
]       sin city

         Kaleb
        Chinaman  ]Hunters
         Ra .

 Villahermosa is a nice town-
         i fail to use superlatives (awesome)
to describe its beauty - because of one Brian Cleavland,
a brit who               thinks that Americans
 overuse                  superlatives - missing out
 on the whole purpose of descriptive words.
   He says -
"An American would look @ this cup of coffee
and say - oh this is fucking awesome!
and this is a good cup of coffee....

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

"but what do you do when a truly awesom cup
of coffee comes along."
"Well" I say "Then I say that its the best
cup of coffee I've ever had."
" OK " he says " Then what do you do when
you actually drink the best cup of coffee you'v
ever had?"
I think this over.
"I say... I know I said that other
cup of coffee was the best I've ever had....
but damn... this one takes the cake....
after that.." I reason."its just a measurement
of which cup of coffee 'takes the cake.'"
"Fucking Americans and your fucking circular
logic."
"OK!" I tire of these games. "Its a so-so
cup of coffee."
    Brian grunts his approval.
 Fucking Brits and their fucking pleasantries.
         They kill me.
From now on...'the best'...will be called 'superlative'
  What gets me even more are these New
 Zealander chicks we met.
                goodness..

  I wont bore you all with absurdities- as
this whole documentation is absurd in itself.
Instead, i'll call your attention to the simplistic
nature of our Journeys, which is that life
in its purest form is a lovely thing.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

 But no!
 Alas, on our journey via bus to ciudad del carmen
from campeche the mood miraculously lightened.
 As we were waiting at a stretch of highway    which
across the penninsula - we met a man whos luck stretched
was such that its goodness superceded onto our own.
      we were picked up immediatly,
 and in the back of this truck amidst ... gallons
and gallons of  Super leaded gassoline.....
         The stars shone as I had
        never seen them shine before.
  Cool jungle wind on my face...
  giant fucking bugs slamming into my
  eyes .... and when i turned around...
          on my neck....
           jeez.
  Mexico sure has a way of balancing things
  out for you.  I'll give it that much.

  So now we're in some desolate town near villahermosa,
A hotel room we got for (10$ US.)  The power just went out
and......ohthisisgood...this is funny....
        we noticed that...coming in...
        the owners of the hotel seemed a little....
              fruity.
   But as soon as the power went out-
       The fruits turned out to be a local import.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

   Several gay men @ our door -
 hopping and skipping around.

          I CANNOT SLEEP
          WHILE HOT
           AND ITCHING

These bugs are fucking killing me.
This sweltering heat is maddening.
  I cant concentrate on anything.

Hotel De La Dive

*Dirt Devil (venemous)
*lights go out
 in the who city
 we get knock on-
*ceiling fan
(which does nothing to
 beat away the sweltering
 heat or thick indoor
 clouds of flesh-eating
 mosquitos.. it only
 squeaks.
 The squeaking sounds like birds.
*giant cockroach
*shower
(always dripping water...
 noise amplified by
  hollow room.)
*small dog
(incesant barking
longest stretches
i've ever heard)
*Frontdoor
- where the gay owner
 of the hotel and his
 brother (also gay)
 offer us candlelight
 instead of electricity.
 His two friends (both gay)
 come and tell us how
 pretty we look.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

  Beyond any rational hope for establishing a
fixed set of goals or a fixed, established place...
beyond all that - All we really have now is the hope
of getting out of Mexico in ... one ... bumpy piece.
           is it the 6th of April.  I think it is.
we left on the 22nd of March.
                15 days in.
  uh...i skipped over some shit while in the
Monkey hostel.

  Who knows what the hell to think anymore-
who cares?  Who could possibly want more out
of life than what is given to them by the
natural course of things.

  Yesterday while waiting for a   bus
in villahermosa, we decided to go someplace
cool and get our heads together over drinks-
      the first place we went
      was playing 'Big Trouble in Little China'
Now
  I wont even pretend to know where this is....
       i think when, however is the 7th ...

  Finally the chicken bus!

  Mention the immigrations officer calling us
wetbacks then letting us go!
   Mention the lady at the hotel not allowing
 us to stay because of our previous scum...
      which we paid for!!!

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

Mexisketch comedy is on the tube
in the terminal as we wait for our
bus into Brownsville.
    I'm wondering if it would be as
funny if i actually understood what
 these maniacs were saying to each other.
     would I wince instead of laugh.
 As it stands, spanish to me is still
a googly language to me.
    its remeniscent of what a
   fraggle would speak if he had
    not been influenced by American
     television.
 This whole experience, iadmit, has been more
like a drug-induced train ride through
 an exceptionaly wacky episode of pin-wheel;
where two exceedingly goofed-out astronaughts
 Stare bug-eyed and panicked as our their
  space ship sails vacant into space.

  So lets all burn Squares and Celebrate
nonexistance with the rest of the clowns.
we can all drink coffee and call each other
we'll pop pills till the ground around us bursts into
flames and the sands of time melt into glass from
neath the naked, sweating toes. digits. toes. the
sheer, naked heat of it all.
       we can sink-i tell you-into that which is,
and that which could never ever be in a cool
 gazillion years.   Yup.

                     [Ed. End Page; New Page]                       

 To what purpose do we drive to find meaning
in our lives?  Is it because we are reincarnated,
recycled into imperfect lives @#%$@ always striving
to escape into some obscure form of pure being?
or are we merely reacting to instinct and vary in
character only on the basis of ignorance to
certain types of these instincts?
  Are these people, these abominations .... are they
really spiritual decendants from the inhabitants of
Atlantis? Or are they simply acting out these fantasys
to compensate for a loss of certain instinctual desires?

    What is the truth?
    what is truth?
    does it matter?
   Do these people serve a purpose either way?
   Do I ?

    Kan says that another Seal has been broken.

       I hope so.
       I hope so, buddy.

                       [Ed. End Entries...]                         

Mathematic Schematics

 formation of a completley different world in an entirely new realm
of our universe.  Now when I say that our thoughts have formed this
place I don't mean that they are what this place is made of - I only
suggest that they are why this place seems so closely related to our
own world.....

which by the way- no longer exists.

(Argus just stares @ him)

  When humans discovered mathmatics - they discovered a way to
define their universe and employ meaning to the mystical aspects
of the natural world.
  It empowered an already vague suspicion that perhaps things
werent so "luck of the draw" - that maybe there was an order in
what seemed to be absolute Chaos - and perhaps God had been a
little too hasty in placing the schematics of creation where
anybody could take a look.

Lithium

  The yo-yo sugar circus was a mistake on my part - and for that I
apologize.  The purple locust baboon assassin I mean, To think that
all the damage they caused on my behalf could have been largly
avoided with something as simple as Lithium or an anger management
class a prescription to Ltihium - its ... it's really quite
depressing and I can only apologize again.  Seriously. I am truly
sorry for any pain I might have cause you the citizens of this
unbelievable city.  Again.

Magic Princess Diary Entry #1

I guess you could call this a 'journal entry,'
but that would be gay . . . so i will instead
call it my 'magic princess diary entry #1'

             magic princess diary entry #1
                  August 10th, 2004

I had a dream about Brooke last night, and she
was asking my advice on cooking.
"So i can make it myself, then... you think?"
"of course..." i kind of pause.  "Why would you
think otherwise?"
               To this she is stumped.

stop near 'I don't care'

  Will this bus take me to the place i really want to go?
Is there a stop near 'I don't care' that I don't know about.
My transfer slip suggest not.

Jesus Live!

-yes.  I am certain that the elevation of my
limbs will improve the circulation of
blood through my body - but my legs give out
instead ...and I fold to the ground like
a lawn chair.
     Moments pass.  People move around.
     A pair of headphones are placed over
     my ears and a flyer is propped against
     a book near my face.
      I begin to view it as I would the 
      corpse of a very dear friend...
           ~ click! whirrrr ~
     "Chad?"
 Come celebrate the LORD w/ Glory Raunch,
as we downshift into a christian Death metal
faithfest at Hell no's back side bar and grill!
     "Chad?"
Yes, Saturday @ 7   you will experience Jesus
as you've never experienced him before..
Live
"calm down, chad.
why
"shhh...This is only-
"And resurected from death!!"
" a panic attack"
   but then there is darkness and a
   cool snug sleep all around.

Ben Folds Irony

This is an actual entry written by, I believe, Chadwick in “The Black Book.” The irony is, after taking his “old man’s advice,” Chadwick has joined the army.

---

Well, I thought about the Army.
Dad said, “Son, you’re fuckin’ high.”
And I thought, “Yeah, there’s a first for everything.”
So I took my old man’s advice.
  ~Ben Folds

Letter From the Editor

Editor, transcriber, something like that. Editing infers a sense that something has been taken out of the work, and my interest--perhaps to a degree denoting a disturbed mind--is in retaining as much of the look and feel of these original works as possible, within the set confines of the internet. I've been given the task of translating whatever I see fit from paper page to electron page, but I'm taking more time to make sure stylistic touches are retained instead of correcting spelling. In fact, I'm leaving spelling as is, and am leaving the punctuation and sentence structures as they are...despite my every impulse...must...place...period...

Why? Because I'm one of many who know and love Chadwick, and prefer this insane intelligence--however rough it may be--to the tamed intellectualism of most. It is a breath of fresh air that yet contains life in a world of half-lives. I'm picking this as a stopping point for todays..."whatever"...but will be continuing on with this project over the course of the next few months.

~Kantiki Manajaya

03.21.04, Entry...

L|I   I dont wanna be Don Juan
I|
K|S   what time is it?  what day is it.
E|A            monday the 21st of March. .
 |W                    7:00 pm
A|                    9:00 pm
 |E                   10:00 pee-emm
G|T   Jack Daniels watermelon spike coccain.
R|E   "Hey! Hey, can I call you?"
E|R
A|N     Tyson and christy
T|I        in Buda--
 |T         nice house
R|Y           2 acres
I|         listening to 'Jungle' cd (lars's)
N|T           after dinner of fish
G|H            carrots - broccolli - scalloped potatoes
 |E                  over rice.
O|    dogs are babe karoki.
F|O
 |T       !Buda house!
P|H     sat up late talking.
U|E        got tired.
R|R       retired to 'jungle story'
E|    synchronicity of Tysons
 |N        Spanish book
A|I
N|G
D|H
 |T
E|
N|
D|
L|
E|
S|
S|
 |
L|
I|
G|
H|
T|
.|
.|
.|

03.22.04, Entry...

i can hear jaya talk
about the eye of infinity
 in the other room.
   and now I'm awake.

Bonita.   es... fuck. es . . . Tyson
  amigo es Tyson . . . .
            ohmygodimgoingto Mexico
                 icantspeakspanish.
                 not   a      word.

!Hola!
!Adios!
!Hasta pronto!  (peace-out)
¿Que tal?      (how are you?)
De acuerdo      (I agree)
     word of the day
        llegar a tiempo (to be on time)
    (kind of rude word of the day
     to pick with Tyson sitting at the door
       but I figure it will be ok

03.23.04, Entry...

34 packs of Emergency.
1 Blanket
#@% Black pants
2 pairs of socks
Black shirt
grey shirt
Blue.....
       whatever...
listen... I might follow Jaya into mexico...
but... I can't do the inventory.....
          sorry, bub.

Carlos would be proud.
  after, of course, he called me a fag.
         That whoe.
  ¿Que es esoh?
  llegar e tiempo, Jaya.  Bueno.
     out of Denny's, good.
Don't be tricked by consumerism, he
Says, laughing.
   well I'm not laughing, buddy...
   and I won't,
  good coffee though.
with such fresh roasted all americaN flavor and
   full   Aroma..... who wouldn't buy
          a  cup... y'know?!
  maybe I will   get some eggs and
 bacon ..... no ... I'm just joking,
            but not about the
            eggs and bacon.
            it sounds good.

03.24.04, Entry...

   . . damn.
 I'm in Mexico
 How did I get here?
 allow me to tell.
 spill . . whatever.
*first, pardon the handwriting,
 I'm on some
god forsaken city bus
  on road to
    the mexican
      interstate

I'm Sam

I'm sam.

The name you'll find on the Christmas Card I sent is actually Samual Joseph Dryson, and--while this is my full name--I much prefer the shorter 'sam' to the drawn out monotony of the full title. However, since it was I who made the careless mistake of confusing the names when sending you the card--and since they are after all...my names...

Chadwick & Kan

[Editor's Note, the editor, in this case, being Kan, Jaya, whatever]: Since there's no profile picture up for the geester who's blog I'm now tending, I'm posting up the only picture I have of him that isn't some pale, pasty waste of monkeyflesh... In fact, some who know Chadwick (on the left) have seen this picture and didn't recognize him. Just wait 'til he returns from the Armed Forces.

08.20.03, Entry...

  Dear...dear lord ... forgive me for my horible sins, and--on the
same note (and the same sentence, unfortunately) for my horible
spelling.
 This trend of relentless personal destruction must not continue.
There must be an end to my maddness...and...~sigh~...bad spelling.
   [I refuse to rewrite any of this.  So please
     excuse that many of my sentences will
     end with apologetic sidenotes to the
     darker half of my intelect.  Jesus.]
 I am not on drugs...right now.  Nor have I been for many, many
months, er--weeks--um...days...day...day...maybe a few hours...
Maybe.  Many, many minutes if nothing else...but believe me it's
been a relitivly long time (the whole moving train car bit...except
a good portion of my mind was left sleeping on the benches in the
station.) whew.
 That sounded more like a confessional than a complete sentence!
Huh?  Huhhh?!
 Besides my seemingly endless narcotics binge, life is mostly full
of bleak and arctic despair which--while tasty when spread over
most brand name crackers is pretty much useless when trying to
secure a bank account.
 This has not, however, deadend my will to live.  It has only made
it edible to the many demons which have collected in the side
pockets of my ID over the course of my coming of age (something of
which I am sure should happen before one turns 13...NOT 23!)

Perplexis

Perplexis lives at three-oh-nine West Chiltonberry way
with her Seven older brothers who do nothing every day.
(For those of you who know not what a nothing need imply:
it's mainly just another word for "life without surprise,"
And if surprise is what we use to keep our lives intriguing,
then nothing is a state of mind where something's always fleeting.)

So everyday Perplexis walks to school and then to work
where her mind is always busy and her brothers do not lurk...
but every passing moment strikes another listless hour
where
  helplessly
     she watches
as her brothers' minds go sour.

Now, Lexis loves her brothers more than anyone can know,
and, with every inch they sink to waste, it tears apart her soul.
So walking home from school one day, consumed with righteous anger,
Perplexis formulates a plan to free them all from danger.
And on the morn of Halloween, with jacket bundled tightly,
She packs away her precious things and sets upon the highway.
For waiting round with hopeful thoughts has worn away her patience,
and Lexis now has set upon the trek to reparation.

Santa

  I will wait for Santa by the Christmas Tree,
where we’ll drink beer for an eternity.

  From his bag



  His profit margins blank for ages
             needs no pockets
             has no wages.
  Grateful words from those he knews
  his only revenue--
       Yet there are those that curse his pages,
       Damning them unadvantageous,
Advertising profit as its proper substitute.
"See, people earn their wealth in stages,
always will and have for ages... what you
ought to do is give it up and follow suit.
'Cause paper wealth in vaulted cases,
locked away in golden stasis,
Numbs/Negates all loathing weights
and tenets you held true."

Results

 You scored as Paganism. Your beliefs are most closely aligned with those of paganism, Wicca, or a similar earth-based religion. You may also follow a Native American religion.

Paganism
63%
Buddhism
50%
agnosticism
50%
Hinduism
46%
Islam
42%
Judaism
38%
Satanism
33%
Christianity
29%
atheism
29%
http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=10907'Which religion is the right one for you? (new version)
created with QuizFarm.com

From the dazzlecrats

{two scientists, a man and a woman, are frozen in place on the stage.

The woman is wearing a high ranking, cerimonial lab coat- and is braced with her back against the lab's only visible doorway. She is panicked, afraid.

The man, also in lab coat, is hunched over a large panel of multi colored buttons- his finger jabbing into the largest one on the board. He seems frozen in an unwavering professional resolve.

~long beat~

A young woman carries a cardboard sign from one end of the pit to the other. It reads; Prologue.

The director's head...

...peeks in from the opposite exit, silently, helplessly motioning for some kind of information. The Young Woman shrugs.}

Young Woman: (without noise) I don't know!

{The director continues signaling for info as the Young Woman heaves a sigh of humiliation at the ground.

There are no charming smiles on her third trek across the pit- just an unhappy girl with an unhappy frown and a very ugly prologue dragging like an unwanted pet behind her.}

[should revise that run-on crap, bull-shit fuck of a sentence...fuck. ~whoo~ FUCK!]

It is only when...

...the young woman reaches the opposite end of the pit, and falters- glancing with an uneasy hesitation to the unmoving figures on the stage. She stops, her body half hidden by the exit.

Young Woman: (whispered shouting) what...I dunno, wh- what should I...

{She sighs, turns and with a smile no less sincere than her first- hold the sign to the audience and walks from one end of the pit to the other. She is visibly panicked.

::from the scurges of Tor ((or the animiniums))::

The dreaded slar beasts of !! lay in wait beneath the twin bladed skies of Jar-SKlOff!
Zargon has just emerged from his morning dip in the river of tortured man-blood, and has just decided to stop off for a quick hazelnut scone and a latte- when....