I read Michael Ampersant's Green Eyes because I like to dream |
Dec 1, 2012
Green Eyes --- Chapter 12: Badfuck
Previously, we had a rough day, meeting new friends in familiar places. We're now off to a midnight party at the house of Godehard Wagner (family), dragged along by one of our new friends. Charles is back from the bathroom, where he had a difficult time (he was defecating a lot of blood, as he tells John).
As Maurice is saying this he's grabbing my shoulder. His knees fold, his body folds. He's falling to the ground, now he's just lying there, eyes shut. I touch his shoulder,
"Maurice, Maurice," I say. No reaction. I slap his cheeks. No reaction. He's unconscious.
"He's unconscious," Neill observes, "a bad fuck probably." This will be the last time that anybody uses those words at the party.
"Gohard," I shout, "we need an ambulance."
"We need an ambulance," Godehart answers.
"Somebody must call an ambulance," he continues.
"What's the number?" the rent waiter asks. Godehart doesn't know, of course.
"Nine-one-one," somebody suggests helpfully.
"No, no," I plead, “that's the police, we need an ambulance. Call them directly, that's faster."
The police would take Maurice directly to the landfill, better still, they would take his unconscious body to the hospital, with RapeDick in the back blocking Maurice’s neck artery expertly with his thumb, leaving no marks. We’ve seen this in the movies. Maurice will arrive dead on arrival at the hospital, having died of badfuck, a contagious disease, and the night shift directs the body to the morgue where it can chill forever.
I am thinking this very quickly. "Please call an ambulance," I plead in Neill's direction while squatting next to Maurice; I'm trying to feel his pulse. Neill must have been through this before as a restaurant owner, not to mention bad fucks in the upstairs department, he must know how to avoid the police.
As Maurice is saying this he's grabbing my shoulder. His knees fold, his body folds. He's falling to the ground, now he's just lying there, eyes shut. I touch his shoulder,
"Maurice, Maurice," I say. No reaction. I slap his cheeks. No reaction. He's unconscious.
"He's unconscious," Neill observes, "a bad fuck probably." This will be the last time that anybody uses those words at the party.
"Gohard," I shout, "we need an ambulance."
"We need an ambulance," Godehart answers.
"Somebody must call an ambulance," he continues.
"What's the number?" the rent waiter asks. Godehart doesn't know, of course.
"Nine-one-one," somebody suggests helpfully.
"No, no," I plead, “that's the police, we need an ambulance. Call them directly, that's faster."
The party that isn't going to happen |
The police would take Maurice directly to the landfill, better still, they would take his unconscious body to the hospital, with RapeDick in the back blocking Maurice’s neck artery expertly with his thumb, leaving no marks. We’ve seen this in the movies. Maurice will arrive dead on arrival at the hospital, having died of badfuck, a contagious disease, and the night shift directs the body to the morgue where it can chill forever.
I am thinking this very quickly. "Please call an ambulance," I plead in Neill's direction while squatting next to Maurice; I'm trying to feel his pulse. Neill must have been through this before as a restaurant owner, not to mention bad fucks in the upstairs department, he must know how to avoid the police.
Nov 30, 2012
Jezza Smilez
This blog is currently #4, or even #3 on the Google search for Jezza Smilez, so let's tell everybody how inventive, imaginative, inspired, informative we think this guy really is. Here's an example, his drawing for the Sagittarius sign:
We love you, Jezza, we love you.
Nov 29, 2012
Can you read this? (2) (Jacki)
7H15 M3554G3
53RV35 7O PR0V3
H0W 0UR M1ND5 C4N
D0 4M4Z1NG 7H1NG5!
1MPR3551V3 7H1NG5!
1N 7H3 B3G1NN1NG
17 WA5 H4RD BU7
N0W, 0N 7H15 LIN3
Y0UR M1ND 1S
R34D1NG 17
4U70M471C4LLY
W17H 0U7 3V3N
7H1NK1NG 4B0U7 17,
B3 PROUD! 0NLY
C3R741N P30PL3 C4N
R3AD 7H15.
PL3453 F0RW4RD 1F
U C4N R34D 7H15.
53RV35 7O PR0V3
H0W 0UR M1ND5 C4N
D0 4M4Z1NG 7H1NG5!
1MPR3551V3 7H1NG5!
1N 7H3 B3G1NN1NG
17 WA5 H4RD BU7
N0W, 0N 7H15 LIN3
Y0UR M1ND 1S
R34D1NG 17
4U70M471C4LLY
W17H 0U7 3V3N
7H1NK1NG 4B0U7 17,
B3 PROUD! 0NLY
C3R741N P30PL3 C4N
R3AD 7H15.
PL3453 F0RW4RD 1F
U C4N R34D 7H15.
(Yes, we actually mean it, can you read this?)
(Only 55 out of 100 people can!)
Nov 28, 2012
Skyfall
(lyrics:)
This is the end
Hold your breath and count to ten
Feel the earth move and then
Hear my heart burst again
For this is the end
I've drowned and dreamt this moment
So overdue I owe them
Swept away, I'm stolen
Hold your breath and count to ten
Feel the earth move and then
Hear my heart burst again
For this is the end
I've drowned and dreamt this moment
So overdue I owe them
Swept away, I'm stolen
[And here we get interrupted by an eager blogger who has to tell us that this is great folks, we have't seen the movie yet but this is great, it reminds us of Shirley Bassey, whom you possibly won't remember because you are too young, Shirley, the greatest singer of James Bond. Goldfinger, can you still hear it, Goldfinger, he's the man...OK, the Goldfinger song was still better than this one, but still...]
Nov 26, 2012
Green Eyes --- Chapter 18: Agatha Cristie (teaser)
First watch this:
and now read this (the opening lines of Chapter 18):
Alex had already left his perch as a grand horizontal when I woke up. Better even, or worse, the sheer fact that I could fall asleep testifies to his untimely departure, since nobody, not even straight people, would be able to fall asleep with the Green Eyes on top of you. And I slept, because I had my usual morning glory, and I was alone, as outlined already, no external stimuli present, only my sleep, and sweet dreams perhaps that I don't remember. I'm too old for spontaneous erections, it's either sexual or it's sleep (not quite true, I remember now, I had one just yesterday, but still). Sometimes I have trouble falling asleep, and sometimes I don't know whether I did actually fall asleep before awaking in the middle of the night, but then I feel my boner, and know I slept, realizing that my sleeping is better than feared, and thus comforted fall asleep again (only to wake up at a later time with another boner (I think I should stop now)).
For selected chapters of the Green Eyes, go here.
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 23, 2012
No shit (Will.I.Am ft. Eva Simons)
(and the lyrics:)
if you love it like i love it
and you feel what i feel inside
if you want it like i want it
then baby let's get it tonight
if you feel it say hell yeah
(hell yeah)
say hell yeah
(hell yeah)
and say hell yeah
(hell yeah)
this is love, this is love, this is love
and you feel what i feel inside
if you want it like i want it
then baby let's get it tonight
if you feel it say hell yeah
(hell yeah)
say hell yeah
(hell yeah)
and say hell yeah
(hell yeah)
this is love, this is love, this is love
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 21, 2012
Freedom Fries --- Chapter 1: Lynx news (part 2)
Previously: George W. Bush, retired, is watching a show about his presidency on LYNX news, and is about to develop second thoughts about his achievements. Betty Bartholomeo is the show's anchor,Samuel Fisher is LYNX's founder and CEO.
Meanwhile, back at Prairie
Chapel Ranch, Bush swings his gun — not his gun, Hussein’s gun — and
Bartholomeo continues: “The President’s ratings soared again, deservedly, to
precedented heights, although the liberal media were never able to forgive the
president his success, and carped about the alleged absence of weapons of mass
destruction, the casualties of Iraqi civilians in the ensuing civil war, the
cost of the war, the casualties on the American side, the manipulation of
war-supporting intelligence, and the Abu Ghraib prison event, when a few
inappropriate pictures of prisoners were leaked to the media in detriment to
the security of our troops…”
Betty gives way to a
photograph of a figure tiptoeing on top of a tiny box, covered by a soiled bluish
sheet ragged at the hem, the arms half-stretched sideways, the open palms turned
to the camera, gnarled wires connected to both hands and liaised back to some cabling
on the wall, the head covered with a pointed black hood. There is an eerie composition
to the photograph; it balances the suggestion of an electrocution with the
floppiness of a practical joke.
The retired first couple knows
this picture, of course; the entire world knows it, it has served as an icon of
resistance against the War in Iraq. Even the mainstream Economist, a supporter of the war, has put it on its cover with the cry: “Resign, Rumsfeld.”
Nov 19, 2012
"We read Michael Ampersant's Green Eyes because J.K. Rowlings last novel was a bummer" |
Nov 17, 2012
What's the angle?
The Anna Karenina movie is out, folks, with Keira Knightley as Anna, Joe Wrigth as director, and Tom Stoppard as script author. |
"It's an advantage of shredded relationships that you no longer have to care about conventions. Happy families are all alike and will answer the buzzer either immediately, or not at all (if they are too happy right this moment). Every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way, and answers the buzzer as they see fit. I've gotten up now, I've put another kiss on John's forehead to maintain the bond, closed the bedroom door, standing in the kitchen den, and the doorbell has died. Father always rings three times." (Green Eyes, Chapter 27: I charge 100 dollars but am willing to negotiate) |
And while we are at it:
"I’m trying," he replies, interrupting himself: "You know," he says, "there's something about casual artistic activity, if that's the word, I'm not talking Shakespeare here but, you know, a Westend play, or off-Broadway, you know, or Spielberg, a lot of it is just context, changing context. A dialogue that worked 50 years ago does not work any longer because people have changed, they talk differently, they're smarter." "You know that the dialogue in the first Indiana Jones movie was written by Tom Stoppard, even though he is not credited?" I say. "Yes, he says, "I know." Souls meet for a split second, but Charles isn't done with his story yet. (Green Eyes, Chapter 7: Tom of Finland) |
Nov 14, 2012
Gotcha
We're returning from Lyon, where Chang and I went to do a little Korean shopping, and from a wonderful night spent subsequently at the house of friends located in the middle of the vineyards of the Beaujolais, and are making a pit stop at a motorway restaurant, with me entering the building first, and disappearing in the rest room for the disabled on the ground floor, and Chang entering after me, descending to the basement where the main rest rooms are located, and reemerging from the basement, somewhat disoriented (because I had gone missing), while I am emerging from the disabled rest room, he looking at me, puzzled, me pointing at the door of my restroom and saying, suggestively: "It was a black guy, with a very big dick." And he believes it!
Beaujolais, Chang, vineyard in the morning |
Nov 10, 2012
The nadir of American Conservativism
This text, written by Eric Dondero, appeared on the website LibertarianRepublican.net. We don't think it'll stay up for long, even though --- or because --- it cuts right to the chase of present-day American Conservativism. Wasn't it George W. Bush who said that "you are either for us or against us"? Well, let's say to you: "You are either in bed with these people or not in bed with these people."
We think it'll gonna be a classic. People will remember it twenty years from now. Historians will cite it. This text, folks, this text marks the the moment when "conservatives," (not that this is an adequate term, better would be: "reactionaries") when they have really lost it, when they have really reached the point of no return, when they jumped off the cliff, when they hang in the air, when they crashed and shattered into thousand pieces. Many people will try to forget about this. Pretty soon. Don't let them! Remember this. Remember them (you need to click on it for readability, but just in case, here's a condensed version as plain text:)
The end of liberty in America: Only course of action now is to fight back, electoral politics not working
Time to tell any Democrats you know to fuck off and die
by Eric Dondero
[...]
Secondly, today starts a new course for my life. I've soured on electoral politics given what happened last night. I believe now the best course of action is outright revolt. What do I mean by that?
Well, to each his own. Some may choose to push secession in their state legislatures. Others may choose to leave the U.S. for good (Costa Rica, Switzerland, Italy, Argentina, Hong Kong, Israel). Still others may want to personally separate themselves from the United States here in North America while still living under communist rule' the Glenn Beck, grab your guns, food storage, build bunkers, survivalist route. I heartily endorse all these efforts.
(you need to click on it for enlargement) |
We think it'll gonna be a classic. People will remember it twenty years from now. Historians will cite it. This text, folks, this text marks the the moment when "conservatives," (not that this is an adequate term, better would be: "reactionaries") when they have really lost it, when they have really reached the point of no return, when they jumped off the cliff, when they hang in the air, when they crashed and shattered into thousand pieces. Many people will try to forget about this. Pretty soon. Don't let them! Remember this. Remember them (you need to click on it for readability, but just in case, here's a condensed version as plain text:)
The end of liberty in America: Only course of action now is to fight back, electoral politics not working
Time to tell any Democrats you know to fuck off and die
by Eric Dondero
[...]
Secondly, today starts a new course for my life. I've soured on electoral politics given what happened last night. I believe now the best course of action is outright revolt. What do I mean by that?
Well, to each his own. Some may choose to push secession in their state legislatures. Others may choose to leave the U.S. for good (Costa Rica, Switzerland, Italy, Argentina, Hong Kong, Israel). Still others may want to personally separate themselves from the United States here in North America while still living under communist rule' the Glenn Beck, grab your guns, food storage, build bunkers, survivalist route. I heartily endorse all these efforts.
Let's do something sexy on Saturday evening...
Nov 7, 2012
The real real America --- reblogged
Paul Krugman writes on his blog:
So, for a while there during the campaign it seemed very iffy. But in the end, discipline and being on the right side of the issues prevailed. Yes, Elizabeth Warren won! Oh, and that guy Obama too. Tomorrow — or I guess today — comes the cleanup; when thousands, perhaps millions, of right-wing heads explode, it makes quite a mess. Also, notice that the polls were right. I wonder if I can get invited when Nate Silver is sworn in as president? OK, somewhat more seriously: one big thing that just happened was that the real America trumped the “real America”. And it’s also the election that lets us ask, finally, “Who cares what’s the matter with Kansas?” For a long time, right-wingers — and some pundits — have peddled the notion that the “real America”, all that really counted, was the land of non-urban white people, to which both parties must abase themselves. Meanwhile, the actual electorate was getting racially and ethnically diverse, and increasingly tolerant too. The 2008 Obama coalition wasn’t a fluke; it was the country we are becoming. And sure enough that more diverse and, if you ask me, better nation just won big. Notice too that to the extent that social issues played in this election, they played in favor of Democrats. Gods, guns, and gays didn’t swing voters into supporting corporate interests; instead, human dignity for women swung votes the other way. A huge night for truth, justice, and the real American way.
And while we are at it, here are a few lines from Chapter 38 of our Green Eyes, helpfully titled "What's Paul Krugman's penis size":
I see two tables cleared next to the central window on the street side, these would be very good tables indeed, when I realize two people to my left, having replaced the fat guy in the meantime, I've seen the face of the man somewhere, on my blog, actually. We're famous in Georgia Beach, serious, folks. Will I tell Trevor? You think Trevor would be interested in politics, or the New York Times, or economics, or Nobel prices? Possibly not --- you have other problems when you're a confirmed bachelor without a future. Trevor, in any case, who must be looking right into the eyes of Paul Krugman behind me, Trevor shows no signs of recognition what-so-ever, it's crystal-clear, he's not attracted to the fifty-nine year old Nobel laureate.
So, for a while there during the campaign it seemed very iffy. But in the end, discipline and being on the right side of the issues prevailed. Yes, Elizabeth Warren won! Oh, and that guy Obama too. Tomorrow — or I guess today — comes the cleanup; when thousands, perhaps millions, of right-wing heads explode, it makes quite a mess. Also, notice that the polls were right. I wonder if I can get invited when Nate Silver is sworn in as president? OK, somewhat more seriously: one big thing that just happened was that the real America trumped the “real America”. And it’s also the election that lets us ask, finally, “Who cares what’s the matter with Kansas?” For a long time, right-wingers — and some pundits — have peddled the notion that the “real America”, all that really counted, was the land of non-urban white people, to which both parties must abase themselves. Meanwhile, the actual electorate was getting racially and ethnically diverse, and increasingly tolerant too. The 2008 Obama coalition wasn’t a fluke; it was the country we are becoming. And sure enough that more diverse and, if you ask me, better nation just won big. Notice too that to the extent that social issues played in this election, they played in favor of Democrats. Gods, guns, and gays didn’t swing voters into supporting corporate interests; instead, human dignity for women swung votes the other way. A huge night for truth, justice, and the real American way.
And while we are at it, here are a few lines from Chapter 38 of our Green Eyes, helpfully titled "What's Paul Krugman's penis size":
I see two tables cleared next to the central window on the street side, these would be very good tables indeed, when I realize two people to my left, having replaced the fat guy in the meantime, I've seen the face of the man somewhere, on my blog, actually. We're famous in Georgia Beach, serious, folks. Will I tell Trevor? You think Trevor would be interested in politics, or the New York Times, or economics, or Nobel prices? Possibly not --- you have other problems when you're a confirmed bachelor without a future. Trevor, in any case, who must be looking right into the eyes of Paul Krugman behind me, Trevor shows no signs of recognition what-so-ever, it's crystal-clear, he's not attracted to the fifty-nine year old Nobel laureate.
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