Dat is noot mai dok..

I've been quietly searching for and escape hatch lately.. I've come to realize that there are certain things that comprise the life one leads and being a slave to a job ain't one of them.. I mean it's inevitable, having to work an all.. We couldn't take Leary and Wilson and Kesey and all the other merry pranksters at their words and even attempt a new way of interacting with this world we've created.. Nah. We just kept feeding the beast; marveling at how much we could fit into that great maw.. So much production for such worthless assets.. Unless you're rich, of course.. Then you realize, with a bit a occult flavoring and a dash of black magick, how precious the energy is.. It's expansion pancakes out underneath all this glitz like mercury on a solid surface..

But I always digress..

This here isn't about my fervent need to have a new scent toward a new corporate ass to follow so that I can survive in the glut..



I guess a lot at how one need only realize the illusory nature of reality and how, in today's society, it's served up like a ladle of lukewarm stew in some classic depiction of a prison mess hall.. Odd that the Military and Prisons have mess halls..Cafetoriums..

Then there's Gil..

Gil Lighthearstkenstein was plain sick of it... Why'd it have to be that his first name one syllable and his last one was 4? And why was Xavier always homing in on that aspect; that triviality.. It had nothing to do with anything! Gil often thought, sometimes angrily gesticulating toward some random tree or street 'Where does he get offfff. Fuck MAN!!' Sometimes a passerby would witness these angry outbursts and Gil got hauled off to the asylum again... He loved the county lock-up (people would actually talk to him there); hated the asylum.. Nothing but psychiatrists there always trying to see inside his head.. He'd managed the unbelievable feat of own-recognizance-release 3 times..

It was during the second of these holidays that Gil made his acquaintance with the greatest ego of all time: Drew Karpyshyn. It was at a pre-screening of the video of Bulletboys' epic love song "Smooth Up In Ya." Gil, whose physiognomy has drawn comparisons to The Incredible Mr. Limpet (the animated fish, not the live-action/flesh and blood Don Knotts) and Beaker from The Muppets, was having his typical luck with the ladies - that is to say, none, save the advances of an elderly outpatient he had chosen to bring with him because she still had a supply of Halcyon from her recent stint at the asylum....

Drew came out of nowhere walking very fast, not running, which as pained and neurologically unstable as Gil claimed to be, still struck him as sorta odd in this setting - Bar/theatre in the lower downtown district.. That dilapidated part of the city where only the down-and-out and wanna-be hep kats hang.. So, you'd think, when Drew collided with Gil, that he'd of seen Gil with his ladies get-up (cross between a zoot suit and the look of Ernest Borgninie in Escape from New York) much less been able to collide with anyone, walking.. But Drew was walking with a fucking purpose!!

Gil, gathering himself from a potential heap on the floor 'What the fuck guy?! What-WHAT!! Damn. it's okay honey', turning to his elderly side-kick and throwing pills into her mouth, then turning angrily back on Drew 'You, couldn't see me?!?!!' holding his arms all akimbo motioning to his digs.

Drew, sounding a bit mad and as if he just came from the asylum himself, babbled 'Drew Karpyshyn-Drew-Dr.. Karpaaaahhhhiinn!! Not My NAME-itismydamnname!!..slightly whimsical, happenstance, haphazardly.. I must get away from here.. I must not let the adjectives find me - FIND ME!! Damn Blog is ravenous, his blog!! THAT FEVERISH BOIL OF A MAN!!' 

Drew leapt like a retarded tiger to his feet now shouting 'THERE IS NO PEACE! THERE IS ONLY PASSION!!!' and re-engaged in his hurried, though now, clearly, injured gait.. As he quickly walked away he could be heard hissing 'I'll never oblige another blogger with my prose!! Down with all Blogging Jedi!!!'

Gil watched him trail off in zig-zag now and not seemingly as determined as before, knowing in his thorax that this plump-wild-eyed boar of a man would be back in his life soon.. Very soon..