Indifference to one company

Living in Los Angeles; home to invalids,, show-men, homosexuals, deviants, dero's, murderers and all other current and former peripheral members of society, the tangential concept encompassing this lovely neighborhood that it is also home to some of the most average and boring people on the planet is somewhat dividing of the mind. Armed with an exceptional grasp of statistical concepts and an abnormally high sperm count, it didnt take long for me to discover that most of the highly attractive females i was after were, in fact, very unintellectual and demure people. This inwardly led to a panic attack.

My earlier Socratic dialogue with myself concerning what i wanted out of female and the nature of love had no Socrates to keep me logical. It was just me, bouncing between the poles of intelligence and outward beauty. There was of course no one to correct me, as i am just myself, and consequently no thought necessarily implied the next, in fact, a thought would often contradict its predecessor. I thought perhaps some drugs would force clarity on my confused logical state, but this only further disturbed my demanding sense of order.

Spending the night at yet another strange tattoo'd girls house, she struck me with an interesting question early on. "You up?" she asked. Obviously i was left with a diametric situation: pretend to be asleep and hence avoid any unintelligent questioning, or wakeup with the usual eccentric charisma and throw her off balance, causing her chemically enhanced brainwaves to skip a beat and forget the aformentioned questions she was ready to impose. Obviously it was a risky situation, maybe one i shouldnt have placed on myself in my fragile state.
I chose the latter.
"Im way up!" i said, dropping my charade of sleep, which i instantly realized was a lie with no purpose.
Her centre parted hair, long and oddly brown, sat over her shoulders as her eyes flickered in a manner that showed she had remembered what she wanted to say, but suddenly felt a hint of regret at motioning me into this impromptu discussion. Her gaze changed again and she went on, oblivious to the last several seconds doubts.
"I cant get a job" she mumbled, her eyes beginning to water.
She was definately still in a drug reduced state, the come-down slowly sinking its claws into her mind. I wondered if maybe she wanted something chemical from me, but as i cant remember her or me paying for anything the night previous, i wasnt about to relent from this mongreled stance i had started.
Of course she was an actor, and traversed into an all-out discussion on her latest part as a bagel girl for a law firm show.
"I put my heart and soul into it. I wanted to be a great bagel girl, one thatd be remembered, someone memorable" This has been haphazardly paraphrashed as the entire speil lasted over 10 minutes and included quick 30seconds rants about her brother and his ex-girlfriend, her landlord, and the current status of the local subway shops construction, all topics met with the kind of childlike candor that attracted me to her in the first place.

She kept talking, but id stopped listening, preferring to think about where id left my orange juice in the fridge, so i could grab it without looking whilst i read the LA weekly. She didnt even finish her last sentence; it just trailed off. I think the subject had changed in her head again while her mouth had continued on the old topic, not realizing it was out of supplies. She asked me how old i was. It wasnt long till i left and got into the Montero sport to head home.

I subsequently met up with homes from NZ (blake) and we travelled past several disturbingly similiar industrial neighbourhoods and stamp-like outdoor malls to arrive in San Diego. Surf, booze, coke and other assorted derivations of the previous 3 set the tone. I had now picked out an odd habit of doing a two foot shuffle into any bar we walked, somewhat to amuse myself at peoples vacant stares as they witnessed what they could only classify as quirky, and secondly to show the bouncers i wasnt inebriated to the point that such a maneuver couldn't be accommodated by my rapidly depreciating body. As there were only 4 people in the bar, i decided that there was to much ice in my whiskey and threw a cube at the guy behind me. He turned out to be gay, and a rapidly flaring argument and heated debate about gay-bashing and foreign civility was high on the agenda for the next 5 minutes before we got kicked out and someone kicked the dukebox. Megadeth was playing. Happy days.

I can say with all certainty that is the last thing i remember from the 5 days down south. 24hours sleep straight.

When i awoke a vibrant image filled my head. I am always amazed by what lies buried in the mind until one day for no particular reason it rears its head. That afternoon in bed, a vision of the tattoo girls face entered my consciousness, and i saw clearly that she had grey blue eyes, really amazing grey blue eyes. It was a small fact i hadnt realized id known, and one that will undoubtedly shape my life in the future.

A dewy Mississippi path: Strange tales from the Great South

We were slipping down that dewy Mississippi path faster than our motor neurons could fire off proper orders to their soldiers to correct our balance. It was all laid out before us, but this ship had storms in its seas, which had started years ago, and our cruise was cursed from the start.

The curse on us all was this great entrapment called education. I was a victim of the trap for many years, suffering unknowingly in a form of purgatory where the pretty white haze ungulfed my Medula and the Serotonin was much too nice to ignore. It was the equivalent of putting a mine-victim into a morphine induced state and watching him drool and carry on in a thoroughly basic way whilst he was urged to follow the light at the end of the tunnel. The light at the end of the tunnel was ever so close and its warmth was beautiful, giving me hope for a nice retirement and a piece of wood with 4 walls and a roof which i loved dearly; my castle. Any form of uproar from the masses was quickly shot in the head; and besides, we were all civilised people weren't we? So act like it.

There was of course the dark little puddle next to me, flowing into a nearby drain; probably into some filthy cavern where nothing nice happens and all forms of life are extinguished with a swift clamp of the jaw. The wolves would surely get me if i dare fell into that hole, but why was it so alluring? It was like the proverbial temptation from the Devil. Except what was unknown to me then, and so many now, is that the Devil was actually the owner of the heaven we are always sold, it was just well disguised by Him; a dark, fascist, power hungry demon looking to lure you in under the guise of freedom and worthwhile. The average standardised IQ scores had dropped significantly, little did 'we' (and i use this sadly, as the sad truth of the matter is that no one will escape this end) know, and for the most part we were all just filthy vermin running amok on a giant piece of land, killing and maiming each other for our own little parcel of it. We had become nothing more than glorified apes. The microcosm below me represented the theme in it entirety. An animal kingdom hell bent on ripping its own limbs off and enjoying every last fucking minute of it. Why not? Lets maim ourselves for pleasure, weve got a whole year to recover till the next. All i could hear was 'Forget tomorrow, lets live now'. 

I looked down upon the world from our little embankment on the second story of the Tropical Isle Bar and Hotel. Woman below were quickly becoming a currency and i had yet to see anyone hold a linear path for more than 5 steps. The situation was deteriorating rapidly. We wouldnt survive the night said the little monkey on my back. Fuck, i guess theres only one thing to do then. 'Lets get down amongst the animals mate, i cant watch this anymore without being involved'. 

I took one step off the flight of stairs and was completely ravaged by noise and light, nothing made sense anymore. Huge woman were sweating in my face and men with large cups were screaming at me to drink from them. It was a social coliseum; i was scared, and the monkey on my back started screaming for HIS own safety. I didnt know he was male until this point, but the thought of a testostrone-fuelled guiding deity screaming for his own safety amongst us mere mortals had me worried. Any form of optimism left the room quickly.

A savage woman in a black trench coat grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the toilet area. 'Fuck, this isnt what i need'. I was close to bending over and thumping her with a stiff right jab before she could drag me into the dark pit, but the Bear somehow grabbed me and my stupid attached arm that had gotten me into all this trouble to begin with and pulled me out of the ring.

"Terrorists, Violators and Vermin, THEY ARE COMING FOR YOU!"

A man was screaming into a megaphone right by the door, leaning around the corner and angling the sermons straight into the live band playing up on the stage. I hadnt seen these musicians before, the lights had them hidden in a green haze; something toxic i wished i wasnt involved with on any level of general behaviour. Now it was 2.30am and i was feeling the beat beginning to drag me down with it. Some twisted mind that knew the frequency to unlock the control over our own willpower. This Pied Piper would get us soon enough.

The man at the door was still belting out incoherent rubbish about common civilities and the great lord when i took him down with a solid glass to the head. He hadnt seen it coming, and neither had god. The old degenerate hadnt listened to his own sermons, so the vermin he was warning us about was nice enough to show him a thing or two about general principles. 

Bear knew the police were on high patrol: a young group of men were shot on site last night for a collective robbery of 10 dollars and a need to leave no witnesses behind. High alerts has been issued and i knew any act of savagery, no matter how logical, would be met with extreme prejudice and a massive collection of violence. I shuddered at the thought, and my little act commited before. "Foreign man killed viciously as police use neccesary force in face of certain death" the headlines would read. The media would be paid off, the police force would apologize for any sadness, my mother sent a large flag and the world would be one mad-hatter less. The natural order updated to bring us one step closer to draconian law.

'Maybe its time to go home Bear'.

'Listen! If we give in now, itll only add to our desperation out here, so carry on over there' 

He said back as he pointed to another bar with men stumbling around outside holding plastic moulded jokers with green liquid inside. It looked interesting so i jumped into the queue to get inside the door. We ordered drinks, the joker mug ones, and sat back as the woman lent into a box under the bar, pulled out 2 moulded mugs, and poured a pre-made concoction into them. Nothing about this was organic. Even she had a green tinge to her, that toxic glow that had the band in the past bar straying me towards a madness i didnt need right now. Fuck, what is it about New Orleans that seems so inorganic, when everything about its history is pure and righteous. I knew it was the coming of the modern era, but i didnt expect it to all begin so suddenly. Another city succumbing to the bright light of modern education and strict umbrella control by the big wigs. They kept the rain off of us as they took our souls. I looked at Bear: 'This is the beginning of the end my friend, we're only in it for ourselves from now on, no one else is going to help us'. 

If i could even help myself right now id be happy. The green drink had me beyond words. I lit a cigarette and took in everything i could. I needed one last hit of this goodness before i sank away in the green haze of 'heaven'.

BANG. A huge din rang in my ears and hands grabbed me from all angles. "Never! You fucking vermin, fuck off and unhand me!"
"Quiet you idiot" Bear scowled as i looked up and saw his massive hand on my shoulder dragging me outside. He told me i had passed out and fallen onto the bar, breaking several glasses and arousing serious suspicion. He had slapped me back awake instantly and grabbed me to usher me outside. Both drinks were in his other massive paw, held with safety. They were our tickets to saviour after all. 

Brothers in arms, marching on towards calm.

Hunted for innocence: Strange tales from the great South (Part 1)

We had managed to convince my new friends mother to give us her credit card and keys to a brand new Winnebago Luxury model , for a full expenses paid plus salary excursion into the heart and soul of the American nightmare. Alabama through to the south, and then a psychotic all-holds-barred free wheel through some of the most barren and boring landscapes known to the modern homo-sapien, a land where even the most degenerately twisted minds couldnt conjure up a reason for staying more than 2 hours, let alone our 2 day high speed pursuit of the setting sun.  We were locked into something we would wish we werent, but our excitement for escapsim of the current situation marred our current levels of common sense, so we took it in our stride and agreed to all conditions imposed. Flights were booked, and we left San Diego the next day with the hordes of routine driven robots on their way to Houston for some kind of convention where they are told what to do and when to do it, all under the illusion of a 'fun' time.

What i hadnt considered was the fact that Mardi Gras was due to kick-off in strict accordance with our arrival in New Orleans, and this would mark the beginning of our descent into times of savagery and violence, times that would be set with overtones of extreme manipulation and a desire to rid ourselves of ourselves, which wouldnt have been possible without the help of ridiculous per-diems and massive quantities of cheap and nasty alcohol.

Of course, our rules for the journey were too strict, and we decided via a vote of no-confidence that these be sent to the bottom of the trash bin, only for use in times of extreme desperation and self-loathing. 

Im not sure on the current census figures of those that have experienced Birmingham, Alabama, but it is a dreary and sad little city which experiences its share of natural disasters and horrible weather, and about 50% of its population would not rate above an IQ score of 10. We were lucky to get out of there with our wits intact after a horrible hour spent debating with the Large vehicle storage yard owners that we had rights to the large Winnebago Luxury model sitting in the corner. My foreign accent didnt help, and my friend Bear had little in the way of a good looking demeanour about him; unshaven, shirtless and eyes blood shot red from a serious vacuum injection of California's best hydro.

We had agreed that our best bet to remain morally sound was to pick up hitchhiking travellers, with the rules of engagement being no arguments taken and no destination as important as our own. I knew somewhere down the line there would be trouble, but with the current issue of finding our way out of the god-foresaken state being priority numero uno, we had more pressing matters at hand. Such things could wait till we were dealing with them in-situ. I hadnt had any whiskey yet, and cigarettes were hard to find on Motorway B20, so i had to settle for a small order of a healthy smoothie option. Healthy being the operative word, and most likely the last time i would see those 2 syllables for the next few days. 

I forgot to mention (forgot? i think i was just wrapped up in the moment) there was a 3rd passenger on this mission, and it was most defintaly a mission: a surgical strike into the psychotic depths of the American Nightmare, to source a sentiment from the most ignorant and justifiably savage of all American people. Stephen wasnt equiped to take on anything this twisted, and it showed in his under-confidence and lack of suitable clothing for the mission. Me and Bear both knew that he wouldnt survive till the end. But we needed a scapegoat we could use under the guise of a martyr, so we ignored his pathetic attempts to stop for water and passed him the bottle of whiskey instead.

It was, after all, our trip, and Aggresive manoeuvres and unjustified liberties would be the norm. God knew we werent here to sweep the locals off their feet, but he probably let it all float under the table as he knew it wasnt going to last long. We wouldnt survive to claim any fame for it, so he would let the madmen finish themselves.

Whistle blowers taking their time in the cold streets of the South

'Take a knee and Bow, and let your tongue express that JESUS CHRIST IS YOUR LORD!'

The sign above me stated. Maybe he was our Lord. I wasnt in a mood to say 'Hell No you scum' and beat him with his own placard. Hours were spent by his lovely god-fearing wife putting that thing togethor, and i surely wasnt going to rob him of his fun. That would be a horrible thing to do. Id much rather come back sober and play with his belief system, perhaps even introduce him to the monkey hiding in his lounge, the one that proves evolution was the true story behind Human Model v.10, our current state. Darwin was his name, and whilst The little guy couldnt say much, its what he represened that counted. And i would sit and flaunt his symbolism.

But that was another time, maybe next year, when ive recovered from this cycle of affairs. Cigarette, whiskey, green tinge, pass out. Rinse and repeat with more violence. I did want to play games, but id stagger through anything i thought and come out confused and anxious, looking like I'd just coorindated a failed drug sale and had lost eveything. That wasnt the kind of look i wanted to be fronting in a place like this, with police hiding at every corner under extreme vigilance, hiked up on pure dopamine and looking for the nearest excuse to shoot someone right between the eyes. Under the hidden veil of a peaceful religious chant, the status quo was carefully kept in checķ by the police. The sideways glances of the bigots had them looking for any sign that they had better leave the party pronto, or they would be maimed or be killed under a hail of gunfire and police batons with sharpened edges. Blood was an easy colour to clean off the red bricked monolgue of buildings that made up the French Quarter, but Black spraypaint and the Ash of the dead Souls that were sucked into the kerosene burnoff these religious fanatics had started was not.

"On Fat Tuesday, revelers in New Orleans jam the streets with non-stop partying. The atmosphere is charged with drunkenness and unbridled sexual activity and perversion. In the French Quarter, homosexuals have costume contests before audiences of thousands. Women lean over balconies and openly expose themselves to anyone who will give beads to them. The practice of revelers engaging in sex with strangers is common."
The real truth magazine.

It is, quite beautifully, a massive power base of free speech allowing anything that constitutes pure right wing religious movements to speak their mind and drag anyone and anything that slips into their vacuum down into the dark cave with them.

Mardi Gras is never prepared yet always a willing accepter of the inundation, even downright swamping above the National Defence emergncy level, of all forms of gibberish, hearsay, lies, truths and psuedo-religious bullshit. Over 4 days it is a non-stop assault on all 5 senses that begins to manifest itself in every innocent bystanders mind in a very unstablely controlled violent tenure. And if it all turned against itself by the briefest lighting of a match the local law enforecment would have very little ability to quash the civil unrest before it reached a fever pitch. I have no doubt the Souths biggest party would quite quickly become a Master class in the civil guards ability to enforce martial law and return the city to a state of civic peace, even if extreme violence and death were the means to an end.

The main reason for the massive pilgirmage to New Orleans was a wealth of new and fertile minds ready to be harvested for their own viscious needs, gathering humans like crops in the local feilds. And they fell quickly too. A mindless mixture of alcohol, loneliness and well-directed and powerful dialogue could turn even the most straight-lined minds towards the dark cave in the extreme corner of the beautiful golden beach. I had seen it on several occasions right before my eyes, as i staggered from bar to bar in search of my friend Bear. I had lost him only minutes before and i was starting to get lonely. I had ticked off 2 of the 3 ingredients for sublimation into the vortex, but id be damned if i was going to let one of these vermin get ahold of me for any amount of time. I had my bottle ready and held my stature with intent.