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.