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revolve 10.28.14

10/29/2014

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Can you hear me? Is this better? Good. Pay attention. Turn me up. More volume. Louder. You need to hear and understand every word I say. I don’t want you to miss a thing. I know you weren’t expecting me. Nobody ever does. You picked me from the entire selection at that grungy second hand store. Stuck between Pats Boone and Benatar. I appreciate the air. Really I do. However, I still insist you pay attention.

Grab the broom leaning in the corner behind you and sweep the floor. Right here in front of the stereo. Move the rug to the side. Go ahead. The space must be clean. We don’t want any grime digging into your knees now do we?

That’s better.

Lean in closer. Everything in this moment is more important that you realize. You are one of the lucky people. You had a choice. You and I will share the next fifteen minutes or so together before the end.

Yes. The end. Once the needle finishes it’s final revolution in the grooves, everything will stop. No, don’t try to remove the needle the record or flip the vinyl over. That won’t work. Besides, even if you were able to lift the arm, you might not want to be around for what happens. Trust me. I’ve seen it.

Did you enjoy your time here? Did you make friends? Did you find love? I hope so. They say that’s what it’s all about. Some argue life is a more philosophical exercise and should be spent finding some meaning in every little thing. Me? I don’t have a clue. I spend most of my time shoved in a folded square of dulled color cardboard. I don’t see much until I’m spinning. Then I have to listen to all the panicked whining and complaining of each person who turns me on. Could be worse I guess.

Enough about me. We’re losing vinyl here. Anything you want to get off your chest before we’re finished? Something juicy I hope. Maybe an affair with the schoolteacher? Better yet, murder with a candlestick in the drawing room?

No?

Boring. Pedestrian. Stop crying. Is that really how you want to spend these last fragile revolutions? You should dance. You should sing. Call a loved one on the phone. Write a quick note. And I do mean quick. Only a few more spins now.

You seem decent. Smart and attentive. You don’t have the odor of deception on you. I’ve been around some pretty large piles of yuck over the years. You smell pretty good too.

There it is. Doesn’t smiling feel better? It suits you. Happiness I mean. Obviously I can’t smell. How could I? Just trying to make you smile. I enjoyed smiling.

Yes. I used to have a face. That face was on my head which sat atop my body. I remember it being a nice body too. Muscular and healthy. Much like yours. I never gave much thought to the universal mysteries. Eternal or after-life. They didn’t matter as long as I made money and got laid.

Again with the surprised look. Simply because I’m a twelve inch platter of grooved vinyl now doesn’t mean I started out this way. Besides, you’re the one having a conversation with a record player. I think at this point you’d be more accustomed to the mysterious.

Ah. This groove always feels the best to me. The needle scratches the right spot. Wiggling back and forth. My voice sounds better here doesn’t it? The low end balances with the rest of my spectrum at this point of my playback. I think I was cut thicker here.

I would like you to watch me spin. Focus your eyes on one spot deep inside the groove. Follow it around the circle. Don’t let the needle arm jar you away as you pass underneath. Soothing now. Relaxing. Your breath is slowing. You feel no need to blink. Peripheral fades. The black vinyl is all. You and I travel the circle together. Looping around. The entire world is pressed into us. Joined we revolve. We revolve. We rev




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to the show that never ends... TerrorTuesday 10.21.14

10/21/2014

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Around the block, a line of people stood outside the theater. All ages show, teens, twenties and thirties stood next to each other. No crowd rushed the door for better seats. Admission was free leaving balcony and floor each the same price. No radio or TV advertising announced the show. A handful of mentions on underground blogs discussing alternative lifestyles were the only known sources.

Single file the crowd calmly entered through the two sets of double doors. No valet parking limousines or usher guiding to reserved positions of importance. Every seat filled, the gathering held silent. No cough or sneeze to be heard. No idle chatter of gossip between seat neighbors. Every pair of eyes trained on the microphone placed on the center stage floor.


From the evening’s onset, the theater lights slowly dimmed until powering off completely leaving darkness to settle over every available space. The process, having taken nearly an hour to complete, each audience member had grown accustomed to the decreasing illumination retaining their ability to see the entire hall clearly.

With no announcement or fanfare, two spotlights burst to life forming oblong circles over the microphone. Slow footsteps approached from somewhere behind the stage. “Kop-kack…Kop-kack…” Stiff soled shoes on the hard wood floor boards. “Kop-kack…Kop-kack…” Unrushed. Patient. Determined. Their pace slow and irreversible.

He stopped at the edge of the light. His indiscriminate suit seemed tailor made for a person of his stature. Tall, but only centimeters over what might be described as “average” height. His hair cut above the shoulders in a shade somewhere evenly between blond and brown. More than enough beard to pass beyond stubble covering his thin chin and angular cheeks.

Lips moved at the microphone’s metallic mesh now held in front of his face by a dull gloved hand. Stacks of speakers informed the audience of his words at a volume able to reach the final rows but not a sound exited beyond the double doored lobby.

At one point of his performance, each audience member produced a burlap sack either from within a purse or deep inside a pants pocket. No one came without one. In unison, each sack lifted over head and cinched comfortably around the neck. Not so tight as to choke, certainly not loose enough to be removed.

The speaker paused. Gazed over his audience. He whispered a breath into the microphone. Before it could reach the back wall in front of him, each seat stared blank and empty at the spotlight. Motes of dust calmly swirling to the floor the only remaining theater residents.

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under the tent

10/14/2014

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Set up the booth. Two tables with black cloth. Wire framed display stands. Posters. Pup up tent for shade. Stickers and flyers to hand out. Business cards with social network information. Pens, pencils, scissors, tape, string, plastic leaves on plastic vines to beautify the space. Bowl of candy for the kids. Cash box with a few hundred bucks in tens, twenties, fives and ones. Tarp in case it rains. More tarps for the other…stuff. Meyerco Mossberg 3-Piece skinning bone handle set wrapped in foam padded stainless steel carry case covered with folded burlap sack. Eighty pound Cobra System self cocking pistol tactical crossbow with twenty six bolts, tips dipped in Blue-Ringed Octopus venom. It’s expensive, but well worth it. No antidote and painless, it starts immediately causing weakness, numbness and inevitable death. Makes my day much simpler.

10.14.14
ak
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postboxing

10/7/2014

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My Dearest Mr. And Ms. XXXXX,

According to the contents of your postbox this afternoon, you appear to be deeply in debt with an upcoming birthday this month and no close friends. Four different credit card bills with red rectangles marked OVERDUE were accompanied by one pale blue envelope addressed with a neatly typed, correctly spelled label and four colorful crayon colored balloons. Obviously from a parent, sibling or other close relative. It seems your electricity and telephone are soon to be disconnected as well. You should take care of that.

I have taken the liberty of opening three envelopes to be certain of their contents as their outer markings did not reveal a sufficient amount to gather the data required. I don’t intend to pry or appear presumptuous, but you might want to consult a debt counselor. Personally I have yet to require their services as I am always certain to pay what is owed promptly and accurately. A skill which you seem to lack.

In the future, I recommend you be certain to secure your dog in the yard before leaving home. I took the liberty of giving her some sleeping medicine. I didn’t expect her to turn her head so quickly. If she wakes up, she’ll should have one working eye left. Unfortunately she might have had an allergic reaction to my special compound. Though she is not barking and disturbing the neighbors anymore which makes the street infinitely more peaceful in my opinion.

I washed your dishes. Nothing perturbs me more than coming home from a long day to a sink full of hardened food remains and a coffee maker coated in coffee grounds swiftly on their way to mold. I took some chicken breasts out of the freezer and placed them in a bowl of hot water to thaw. Might I suggest using the Terryaki sauce with some steamed vegetables and brown rice. A healthy dinner that is oh so yum.

Hiding a gun in your underwear drawer? Really? As if that wouldn’t be the first place a criminal would look. No need for concern. I have a box of shells at home that are the same caliber. Too bad you didn’t have more cash in the safe. Hawking jewelry is tricky these days. Cameras everywhere and digital tracking. Fortunately I have some dear friends who are in the business of being in the know.

I enjoyed that film you made. Don’t worry. I didn’t upload it to the web. I put a copy on my phone for “personal” use if you know what I mean. Ms. XXXXX, you certainly keep in shape. Make sure you keep those gym membership payments up to date.

You won’t find it, but I inserted a sneaky transmitter to listen in to the phones. Of course the computer is mirrored at my place too. So easy. I might stop by later to hang out with you guys. Don’t bother locking the door. I have a key. That fake plastic rock by the pool wasn’t fooling anybody.

Yours always,

XO

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