Wednesday, October 29, 2014 a decent pair of shoes...

Episode Seventeen

Tribute to Myrna Loy ~ Ive(2008)

“So there’s this cabal like, the Illuminati, who like run the world...” says Al the Human Resources guy.
“Bullshit,” says the pale red-haired girl as she drops her cigarette but into a half empty glass of dark amber liquid, “bullshit,” she blows a plume of smoke in the general direction of the blinking smoke detector, “The world is run by incompetents, and they only succeed because the common man is driven by apathy.”
She lights another cigarette, contrary to the building regulations, as the not-quite-background music advises against sleeping on the subway darling.
“...fuckers like control everything we do.” Says Al.
Atom wonders how her hair got so red.
Atom wonders how she got so beautiful.
“Bullshit” she says.
“I’m Adam” he says in her ear.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

I hope that you die...

Episode Sixteen

If I invert the world
just briefly
so the moon swims the lake into the sky
glassine glassine
would we set our clocks
to oscillate our month’s away?

The singer floats the words on a voice made of whiskey; a style long gone out of fashion. She holds the microphone, still on its stand, as if unaware of its role, as if it were there by chance; something upon which to rest her hands.
The band - hired for the Milestone Party with uncharacteristic attention to quality by someone in Admin - oozes sound; backward-leaning guitars and countermanding drums; as if the noise they make is not so much an effort but rather some duty pre-ordained by the gods of music.

If I invert the world
just for love
so the sky hangs down around the moon
stainless stainless
would we rise to fly
like aquatic birds of prey?

Atom’s teeth chatter with the cold of the drink he’s just taken a gulp from. He feels like he’s standing on the edge of something dark and dangerous; that to take another step will shut a door behind him; a door without a handle, leaving him back in the room with the hairy madman.
In the dark of the audience no one cares if you scream.

If I invert the world
just once
so the horizon divides twin sister moons
skyline eyeline
would we lick the sky’s rim
to numb the morning sting?

And he wishes that she were singing to him alone since the words seem to mean something that he cannot quite reach and perhaps if she looked him in the eye he would understand and stop shivering.
Before he can catch his breath the band leaves the stage with a promise of “more later worker drones” and are replaced with piped music of the not-quite-background variety.
“What you lookin' so unhappy ‘bout Tonto?”
As if he has wrapped his cold core in papery facades of human warmth and studied empathy.
“Adam? Join us in the land o laughs willya!”
As if that was a choice available to a broken man.
“You know what your problem is doncha?” says Al, the Human Resources guy from the third floor, as he sloshes his drink across his knees, “too serious; you take things too serious.”

Thursday, October 09, 2014


Episode Fifteen

>>FastForward to Now>>

“And to cement our appreciation for your sterling efforts in both safety management and project advancement punctuality going forward, and with anticipation of projected future ground effect improvement targets, Tim and I would like to invite all of you team members to The Milestone Party,” pause for effect, “watch your Inboxes for details”
Obligatory applause enthusiastically initiated by the trained seals in the front row echoes around the sterile fluorescence of the Town Hall meeting.

Thursday, October 02, 2014

If the Shoe Fits

Episode Fourteen

Shepard Fairey

In order to wage war successfully the PTB need to manufacture soldiers.
Soldiers need to be trained to follow orders without question.
Shiny footwear is an important factor in determining the obedience of any given soldier; the shinier the boot the more obedient the soldier.
“One time I had a really good pair of shoes; expensive too. Pointy-toad brown-swayed; you know those ones with the little holes in them…what the fuck they called? My old brain don’t work the way it used to back in the day when I was… what are they called? You know, the ones with those tiny hole patterns? It’s on the tip of my…”
“Tongue! Brogues! Hey Adam, your speech’s got a lot better; loud too; one-a-these-days you’ll be able to hold a real conversation.”
Of course, in order for a soldier to present his shiny boots for inspection he needs to be trained in the ways of boot-polishing.
It is an ancient art which is handed down from father to son.
They say: "The army will be good for him; it‘ll teach him discipline."
Basic military training involves the removal of the word ‘me’ from the soldier’s vocabulary, a procedure which involves a prolonged period of intense physical discomfort.
“Me I never could go for those ‘comfortable’ sports shoes all rubber-n-plastic and oversized, making you look like you’ve got giant marshmallows on your feet.”

Friday, September 26, 2014

Advanced Hairdressing

Episode Thirteen

And so the months roll forward for our little hero; the hours spent between the diametrically opposite, but equally torturous poles of Pinky and NOM3.
Atom has managed through tenacious self-discipline to completely avoid looking at NOM3, a feat achieved by closing his eyes before being re-entered into his ‘room’, and thereafter ensuring he is always facing away before opening them.
NOM3 has paid little attention to where Atom’s eyes are pointing, intent as he is on his wagging tongue and in the maintenance of the suit he has knitted for himself out of his head of grey hair and with help from his beard and body hair too; a suit so personally snug that he considers himself (in his own mind’s eye) to be quite the man-about-town (not that he is allowed anywhere near town or indeed anywhere outside of his cell).
The necktie, so dramatically employed in the picture in Atom’s mind’s eye, is in fact a sober shade of chartreuse, nicely set off against grey hair-shirt (fashioned to match aforementioned suit) and is worn in the conventional manner replete with perfect Windsor knot.
Below neatly pressed and slightly flared grey trousers and being the result of very hirsute calves and ankles, are a pair of cabled grey hair socks, the whole image suffering only from a lack of adequate and appropriate shiny black footwear.