“The stars are still dancing somewhere overhead tonight.”
— my best friend, about me being unable to see the meteor shower tonight
❤
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“Life was such a circle that no man could stand upon it for very long.” (Except maybe Tim Gatto.)
I might just post a picture of Randall Flagg every time a friend tells me that they are either reading or rereading Stephen King’s “The Stand.” (This one’s for you, Tim Gatto.)
He really is the greatest villain of all time, beating out even Heath Ledger’s Joker, Hannibal Lecter, Two Face, Nina Meyers, Felix Cortez, and the Hunter Rose incarnation of Grendel. (I’m talking about Flagg, here — not Tim.)
We know that Tim is REreading the tome (he got the extended version, good on him), because he actually read the book before I did. As far back as 1989 or so, Tim and I scribbled quotes from the novel on our textbooks at Longwood High School.
Tim even quizzed me once in the cafeteria to test my reading retention. I passed with flying colors:
“What’s the dog’s name?”
“Kojak. Formerly Big Steve.”
(Do you remember that conversation in the lunchroom, Buddy?) 😀 Whatever. It was more fun than the SAT equivalent.
Anyway, I myself have been stricken with the urge over the past year or so to revisit King’s “IT.” I don’t know why. I’m not afraid of clowns — at all. Clowns are probably the only popular horror archetype whose asses I think I could actually kick (clowns and sparkly vampires, that is). Clowns aren’t scary … they’re really more … punchable. Or … y’know — NOT bulletproof. Also mimes. All human beings, save the full sociopaths, have an active moral center in their brains, and I know that we all privately harbor the truth there that mimes DESERVE to die. (You call yourselves ENTERTAINERS?! F***ing SAY something!! Hello!! Goodbye!! Shakespeare’s sonnets!! The Gettysburg Address!! For God’s sake, just STOP!!)
But I can’t get to “IT” just yet, because my pile of loaned or gift books is high. There are Toby Barlow’s “Sharp Teeth” and King’s “Cycle of the Werewolf,” lent to me by Super Smart Art Girl. Then there are a few books that Crunchy Girl gave me, about … spellcasting? Or something? (Is she technically a Wiccan? We don’t know, because she equivocates on a lot of things.)
Anyway, Tim, safe journey. And because we know the kind of guy you are, we know you’re headed to Nebraska and not Las Vegas (or CIBOLA).
I can get arrested in Arizona now …
,.. because my old buddy Nate will help me beat the rap.
Congratulations to Mary Washington College alumnus Nate Wade for successfully winning his first case as Pima County Public Defender. You make the Class of 1994 proud.
In my mind, he will now forever be Matt Murdock — even though he probably doesn’t know who that is, because he has a healthy adult mindset instead of a closet full of comic books.
In my happiness for Nate’s success, I will forgive him for attacking me with shaving cream in the basement floor of Bushnell Hall in 1990. He thought it was *I* who locked him in the suite bathroom. (It was actually Will Shelbourne.)
I’ll also forgive him and his hifalutin lawyer friends for failing to fully appreciate the brilliance of my various “Perry Nateson” puns on Facebook.
Keep sticking up for the little guy, Nate!!
A high school friend told me last night that she googles my poetry when she misses me.
That might be the sweetest compliment I’ve received in a long time.
“Words, those simple clumsy clay blocks …”
Perhaps being free of language is a blessing for dogs.
“Why do you say that, why do you always have to hurt me?”
Since dogs are continually surprised when
those soft and easily broken tools called words
fail them time and again.
“I love you.”
Words, those simple clumsy clay blocks
that one hopes will support such enormous walls.
“I do, I love you.”
Words, those small weak things
that come tumbling out of men.
— from Toby Barlow’s “Sharp Teeth”
Bucket list addition: manufacture and distribute my own “Blade Runner” t-shirt.
No image at all.
The front would read: “He say you Brade Runnah.”
The back would read, in all bold letters: “TELL ‘IM I’M EATING.”
Eat your Wheaties!!!
Just a quick reminder that my supernatural horror story, “The Song of the Wheat,” appears this month in “Under The Bed,” which can be purchased here for just $3.99:
http://www.fictionmagazines.com/shop/u-t-b/under-the-bed-vol-02-no-08/
Here’s a summary: “Under a limitless black firmament of summer night, an isolated Kansas farm holds secrets for two young children. Because when there are stories to tell and strange new friends to discover, little boys and girls need never be lonely.”
This song is dedicated to lovers of wolves, werewolves, Lycans, Wolfen, Wolves of the Calla, Fenrisulfr, savantic wolves, etc.
And, incidentally, it comes from an amazing soundtrack from one of the greatest films of all time.
“HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A PORTAL?”
Vegas vacation, Chinese tryrant.
Weird $+I+ that only my writer friends say to me: “We’ll put an effigy of Mao Tse Tung in the back of the Cadillac.”
[This is about a planned vacation to Vegas. Dennis, Bro, you’re my Wingman, but every once in a while, I find myself out of my depth with you.]
This is why I will always be smitten with Bobbi Anderson …
… from Stephen King’s “The Tommyknockers.”
Anyway, regarding her physical appearance, PLEASE, Carrie Schor, stop telling me that I am remembering King’s text wrong!!
She is tall, lanky, and buxom, with wholesome features and deepening red hair. AND SHE’S LOVELY.
Eric Robert Nolan, Author 