A fucker getting transfigured cause he saw jeans shorts cut off so part of the ass shows and a certain face he likes and he's too dense to suppress possessive jealousy and shit that you get with the little obsessions over people you can't have touch or get sympathy from
Friday, June 24, 2016
Is Essay: something slack in a discipline where you can work with precision...or: the most disciplined achievable in precisely a discipline where you can’t work with precision? A new essay: 'The woman, short hair, chewing gum used so much exposition that the movie’s dumb, or because the movie’s dumb, then I got kicked in my nuts and rolled around. To disambiguate: the common ancestor of the consciousness of anxiety was born. All this is not to suggest that the issues, the human misery would’ve necessarily developed with a different face, but one has to wonder how they would’ve voted.' See? You can take away the customary logical structure of content and customary cadence and all the academic formulas, the routine, it’s still a written essay, everything written is an essay.
Monday, June 13, 2016
There’s more where that came from. Janet, how could you? The car overheated on the freeway – and Roper’s niece?- on the living room couch. I have this friend that owes me a favor. If you need me I’m right out here. Get it on top – I can’t. I’m sure you’ll find your Paradise Towers someday. Tripper! See, nothing’s going on, just like in our apartment. She had these great...Danes. I’m gonna kill Larry. Uh, Greedy…I mean Gretchen. You Are So Beautiful, that’s my favorite song. OK, it’s gonna be a right cross and it’s coming now. No, Elmo don’t go in there! A dollar for three but this one’s on me. The Duchess! Mr. Furley? - Aunt Becky?! What is a Jack’s Bistro? Thank you for that wonderful lie. Well I never... -and you probably never will. Oh, I’m sure nobody saw that show - hi Mom, how are things in San Diego? Listen here shorty. Any more noise and you kids are out! I think you should do it – what!? Janet! Honk if you like what you see -hey Larry, honk honk. And Chrissy, try to cut down on the low cut dresses – gee, they’re already cut down about as far as they can go. JC the boss was a woman, Jack poured the food on wrong person, a guy, food critic that was gonna review him, Jack and Chrissy just hanging a shower curtain, stretch it - I can’t, sounded like something else from outside the door, Roper called Jack a real man’s man, Roper looks at camera, ie the TV viewer sometimes after cracking a joke, Jack learned how to tie knots in the Navy, tied sheets together to climb out bedroom window to escape diamond mafia waiting in living room, accidentally dropped end of sheet-rope out window while sliding it down then froze, winced and spazzed out, cardboard in the cake, turns out ruining party was wrong idea, ran through party and knocked cake out of everyone’s hands before they could eat it…….The camera shot of the living room, it looks like where a FUCKING TV set would be, facing them, back to viewer, against a back wall which would be in front of TV viewer, but no sign from the show they had a God…Damned….TV!!!, as far as I remember. Nice apartment, no life, full underachievers, they would be socially dumb now, old sitcoms made working class look like the stoic part of life but they’re the salt of my ass. They didn’t read anything complicated or know anything about world food, I think baked Alaska was a cultured thing back then. Morals were the base of the foundation layer, racy and faux progressive decoration on top and everybody thought it was crazy but it was so unrealistically moral and also stupid beyond my ass. Though, girls always dressed skimpy, Jack never appeared to get hard. Play, overacted flirting is all. All that fuss for nothing what a strange, what?…. Girls under-dressed or in night clothes is racy, no one got hard, it makes me hard, would make me hard, fucking what a fucking dick off time on TV while everything went on outside, someone was consolidating power somewhere and someone else was figuring out how to climb aboard. What a fucking bitch. What a fucking rod in my ass. Just like that, without transition and without there having been prefiguration I’ll change the subject now to a literary author reminiscing ca 1850 about childhood ca 1820s including his memory of a rumor in his town from 1713 to which he hooked a much more recent adult memory of himself reading the first-hand very different version of that rumor in a diary, adapted below from the Swiss German, from the literary author’s transcription of the protagonist’s notes, something of a religious correction slightly bordering on exorcism, translated closely but somewhat freely into English:
Today, Properly received from the noble and God fearing Madame M the cost due for the first quarter, right away receipted, deposited it, also dealt out and intensified the weekly correction with the young Meret (ie Emerentia) by laying her naked on the bench and punishing her with a new switch, not without lamenting and sighing to the Father that he will bring this sad work to a good end. The young girl screamed miserably, begged pardon submissively and sorrowfully, but remained obstinate, ignored the hymnal that I held up to her to learn, so I gave her a breather, then locked her in the bacon storage where she whimpered and wailed but later became quiet until she suddenly started to sing and rejoice, no different than the three holy men in the fire oven, and I listened recognizing that she sang that same versified psalm that she had otherwise refused to learn but in such a useless and earthy way, foolish and simple like the singing of nursery and children’s songs so that I was forced to deem this behavior new mischief and abuse from the devil.
Further, A most highly lamentable letter arrived from Madame, truly an admirable and faithful person, she had wetted said letter with her tears, also reported to me the great despair of the Mister that things aren’t going better with the young Meret, and it’s such a great calamity that this so happens to such noble and famous lineage, and one could with all respect be of the opinion that the sins of the noble grandfather on the father’s side, who was a godless psycho and evil cavalier, are noticeable in and raking this poor creature, so that I have changed my treatment with the young girl and will now attempt the hunger cure. Also had my wife make a small dress of rough sackcloth and forbidden Meret from wearing any other habit, since this atonement dress becomes her in puncto obstinacy.
Today, Found it necessary to forbid the young lady all interaction and conversation with the farm kids because they all came into the woods with her and swam in the pond, she took off the atonement garment that I’d ordained her and hung it on a tree branch and danced and leaped naked before it, also incited her team to insolent derision and mischief. Considerable correction.
Today, Enormous spectacle and disappointment, came a big strong rouge, the young Müllerhans, to discuss Meret, who he claims he hears screaming and wailing every day, and I had to quarrel with him when the young school master, Tropf, also came over and threatened to take action against me, and pounced on the pathetic creature, embraced and kissed her, etc etc, so that I had him arrested immediately and taken to the provincial governor, still needed to negotiate with Müllerhans though he’s rich and violent. Would myself be tempted to believe what the farm people say, that the kid is a witch, if this opinion didn’t contradict reason, in any case the devil’s in her and has undertaken a nasty bit of work.
The whole week had a painter in the house, sent over by Madame so he can do a portrait of the young lady, as the battered family doesn’t want to take the creature back any more, just wants to have an image for commemoration in mourning and repentant observance, also for preserving the exalted beauty of the child; especially the Mister doesn’t want to give up on this idea. My wife gives this painter two quarters of wine every day, of which he never seems to have enough as he goes to the Red Lion every evening and hangs with surgeon there, and he’s a wound up character so I often serve him a snipe or small pike, which is to be billed to Madame’s account for the quarter. At first he wanted to play his persona and affability on the young girl and she even became attached to him so that I made it clear to him not to intervene in my methods. When her preserved habit and Sunday clothes were brought up and put on her along with the schapell and the belts she showed the greatest pleasure and began dancing, but this joy soon became embittered when I, on the mother’s orders, brought in and gave to her to hold in her hand a skull, which she absolutely didn’t want to take, so she held it from then on crying and shaking as if holding a flaming iron; true the painter claimed he could paint the skull from memory since that type of thing belonged to the most basic of his artistic subjects but I didn’t allow it since the mother had written: “What the child suffers, so we also suffer, and through its suffering we also have the opportunity for atonement, which we can endure for the child; therefore the righteous pastor should hold nothing back in care and education. If our young daughter one day, which I pray to the almighty and merciful God will happen, would in some sense be enlightened and saved, so will she undoubtedly be overjoyed to have put behind her a good portion of her penance along with her obstinacy, which the unfathomable Almighty has chosen to lay upon us!” - and these faithful words before my eyes, I have thus deemed the skull an opportunity to apply a considerable sum towards the penance due from the child. Anyways a small child’s skull was used, since the painter insisted that a large adult male skull would be too unshapely in the small hands for his artistic purposes, and she also preferred to hold the small skull; the painter also added a small white rose to the picture, which I could justify since it could count as a symbol of good.
Today, Received a counter-orders regarding the painting, and now am not to send it to town but keep it here, a shame regarding the faithful work done by the painter, as he was totally charmed by the allure of the child. If I’d have known earlier he could’ve added my own portrait for this price, with all the fine victuals that were added to the payment.
Futher, Orders have come for me to stop with all instruction, especially with French, since this is no longer seen as necessary, so my wife is also to stop with the lessons on the spinet, which seems to make the child unhappy. More importantly, I’m supposed to simply take care of her as a foster child from now on, so that she causes no problems with the public.
Day before yesterday, The young Meret deserted us and we suffered the greatest anxiety until today at 12 o’clock when she was spotted on top of the Buchberg sitting naked in the sun on her atonement habit and warming herself en bas. She’d completely braided her hair up and set a small wreath of beech leaves on top and also hung a scherpen around her body, also had a bunch of beautiful strawberries lying in front of her from which she’d already stuffed herself full, and when she saw us she wanted to bolt again but was embarrassed by her nakedness and wanted to pull the small habit over herself so that fortunately we were able to catch her. Now she’s sick and seems confused, no longer able to give sensible answers.
It’s going better again with the young Meret, but she’s changed more and more and is generally dumb and mute. According to the Medicus brought in for consultation, she’s becoming insane or dull-witted and needs to be given over to medical treatment; he offered his services in this, in getting the kid on her feet again if the treatment can be done in his house but I’d already noticed that Monsieur surgeon is only concerned about the good pay along with that which he could get from Madame mother and so I testified to what I saw as correct, which is that the Father now seems to be bringing his plans with this creature to an end and that human hands neither can nor should change anything here anymore, which is the truth.”
Five or six months later, This kid seems, in her dull-witted condition, to enjoy splendid health and has gained perfectly jovial red cheeks. Spends the whole day out in the beans now, where no one sees her and no longer concerns themselves with her, since she no longer causes headaches.
The young Meret has arranged herself a small salon in the middle of the bean field, so we’ve discovered, and has received eccentric visits from the farm kids there who bring her fruit and other victuals with which they so bury her and keep her in supply, and we also found the small child-skull buried there, which had disappeared long ago and thus couldn’t be restored to the custos. Such sort of incidents. Also attracted the sparrows and other birds and tamed them, which caused great damage to the beans and I can no longer access the stalks because of this little occupation, and has also played with a poisonous snake, which got through the hedge and nested with her. Eventually we had to take her back into the house and keep her there.
She’s lost the red cheeks again, and the doctor claims she won’t last much longer, I’ve already written to the parents.
Today, Before daybreak the poor little Meret must’ve escaped her small bed and crept out to the beans and passed away there, as we found her there dead in a small furrow that she’d burrowed into the ground as if she wanted to slip into it, totally ##, and her hair as well as small dress wet and heavy with dew, which also lay in drops in her almost reddish small cheeks, no different than on an apple blossom. We had a terrifying shock, I was in complete quandary and confusion when the Herrschaften had left town just as my wife had travelled to K to buy some confect and provisions to get things in order so that I didn’t know which way was up, there was coming and going, the maids had to wash and dress the corpse and also put together a good lunch, finally I had the green ham fried, which my wife had marinated in vinegar for 8 days, and Jakob caught 3 of the tame trout that swim up near the garden now and then even though the blessed Meret had long been forbidden to go out to the water but fortunately I put together a respectable lunch with this food and it was to Madame’s liking. Had been a great sorrow and we’d spent 2 hours in prayer and death watch and such, in melancholy discussion about the fateful sickness of the deceased young girl after which we had to accept, to our increasing comfort, that the sickness had its cause in a fatal disposition of the blood and brain, also discussed the great abilities of the child and her often clever and alluring ideas and impromptus, all of which however we were unable reconcile in our mortal short-sightedness. Tomorrow morning the child will be given a Christian burial and this due to the presence of the noble parents, otherwise the farmers might’ve opposed.
This has been the most amazing and most terrifying day, not only among those since we’ve had to deal with this most unfortunate creature but of which I’ve ever come across in my peaceful existence, because as the hour came, struck 10:00, we filed in behind the small corpse and proceeded to the churchyard while the verger rang the small bells, with little energy as it sounded almost pathetic, the sound was half drowned out by the wind which blew rudely, also the sky was totally dark and humid and the churchyard empty except for our small company, though outside the yard walls all the farmers had gathered and stretched their curious heads over, but just as they were ready to lower the small coffin down into the grave we heard a strange scream coming from the coffin so that we were scared shitless and the grave digger took off running but right away the doctor, who was also here, loosened the coffin lid and lifted it off and the dead child sat up alive and crawled perfectly nimbly out of the grave and looked at us, and as the sun pushed bizarre and sharp through the clouds she looked like a fairy- or goblin-child in her yellowish brocade with the small glittering crown. The mother immediately fell into deep unconsciousness and Mr. M crashed to the ground crying. I myself in my amazement and terror was unable to move and at the moment firmly believed that we were witnessing witchcraft, but the small girl had soon recovered herself and sprung across the churchyard and out into the village like a cat so that all the people ran home in terror and bolted their doors, and just then school was letting out and the pack of children were coming up the street and when they saw what was happening they couldn’t be held back anymore and ran after the corpse in a large swarm, followed it, and the school master jumped in behind with his paddle. But she retained a 20 step lead and didn’t stop until reaching the top of the Buchberg and fell down lifeless, after which the children crawled around her and stroked her in vain and caressed her. We learned of all of this second hand since we’d rescued ourselves into the parsonage house in utter urgency and persisted in intense desolation until the corpse was brought back to us. She was laid on a mattress, then the family departed leaving behind a stone tablet with nothing carved in it but the family coat of arms and the year. Now the child is again presumed dead and we don’t dare go to sleep out of fear. The doctor is sitting by her now and believes she is finally at peace.
Today, After various examinations the doctor has declared that the child really is dead, and she has been buried in private, and nothing further has transpired.