Not First Page Of New Story(?)

Started writing this story in mid-to-late March and haven’t really stopped yet. There was a short run-in with the law that caused me to almost give up on it but I made it through and I’m still with my girlfriend, as well. I know, nothing matters so giving up on the story wouldn’t matter either – but my girl giving up on me – that would make a difference. Oh well.

So the story remains with me. I get up every morn and start writing. If I find that I’m tired or a bit lost in the complexity of molding some creativity with the hardship of hacking on The Machine, then I just take a break, have a cup of Italian espresso-coffee and then pick out one of the many pages full of corrections and changes and re-type it. The idea is – no matter how WORST I am – to keep working. When the words flow incorrectly or sound like trash smell then just work through it – be compulsive and impulsive and be it all at the hood of a typewriter. Even if your work is really, really bad. You know. But at least, like, the typewriters I use are cool. (Click the pic of typewriter for source; I promise I’m not trying to sell anything; I just dig old typewriters.)

Below another example of the story I’m working on. I guess it’s going to be the first page – but at this stage who really knows. Actually the scan is the second re-type of the first iteration which I unfortunately discarded in a rage of correcting-tape bliss. Which means, what you get here is not the page that’s currently in the stack of papers on my desk that will eventually become the manuscript. It is, in fact, part of the collection of pages that I’ve re-written. Gee. Should I also go back (like in time) and collect all the crumpled pages that I threw away? Or run after the trash truck that has sense removed them from my (worst)writer wake? Make any sense? Please, let me know if you can make anything out of my sense. Or just, somehow, cut me into pieces because I can’t spell or place a comma correctly or can’t, somehow, connect my writing to the wills-wants of the world of pre-blog publishing. Yeah.

-tgs-

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Must Maintain Focus

What’s in a title? Can a title say much for a story or a novel? “The Grapes of Wrath” – what a great title (didn’t much like the book, though). “The Unbearable Lightness of Being” – Milan Kundera is pretty good at other titles, too. Or what about the title of this weblog? No. Forget that one. Then there’s my all-time favorite title:

Dead Souls by Nokolai Gogol.

And get this. Sometimes I wake up in the morning and find one of the many copies I have of “Dead Souls” (various translations into both German and English) under my pillow and then, after numerous cups of espresso-coffee, I think: but I wasn’t reading it the night before.

Struggling through my new story “Gloria“, I got to thinking recently that once I complete the first iteration and then begin the re-writing, should I keep the title? I mean, I could also call it “Heart” because, well, a heart – that is, the actual human organ, or a substitute for the human organ – plays a major role in the story.

Be so confused.

The thing about Gogol is, even though I love everything he’s written, I’m often confused at how, back in his day, he actually produced his work. I guess the same goes for Tolstoy (who I don’t really like), Chekhov, Dostoevsky, etc, etc. Did these guys get any help? I mean, did Dostoevsky really “write” every word and chisel every sentence together of his vast body of work all by his gambling-epileptic-self? Wasn’t there, like a lot of “pop” writers today, a staff to do all the “dirty work“?

So… Is greatness doing all the work by your lonesome?

I admire the great writers of the past because it’s obvious that they could focus all their attention on what they were doing. Yeah. Like. The industrial age brought more than just too much distraction for our brains. I guess that’s why we as a society – nation-state or not – really don’t achieve anything anymore.

Dirty work according to (worst)writer = working so hard on writing something that you feel like your spine is about to break in a dozen places.

Then there’s the idea that the actual work does not include what I call brain-time. I’m typing away everyday at a story and then after a while I get to thinking that maybe the story is really about something other than what I’m actually writing about. Is that possible? Or am I just losing touch because of the all the noise that interferes? In a way, a title is something that helps me keep hold of what I’m actually doing. It helps me focus. But as the end nears (even when I’m writing plays) and I have thousands of words behind all my effort I start to get real confused. Like… Maybe this whole thing needs to be written from scratch. Or. Maybe I should rethink these three chapters because that break from chapter 6 doesn’t work well with what the main character does in chapter 9.

Even though I mapped that shit out and…

<insert certain amount cynicism here> Boy, I really admire published writers. They must all be, like, really great at focusing and concentrating all their efforts at producing great work. Like Dan Brown. Which is the reason they get published. Eh? So… I reckon there is some solace in the fact that I’m (worst)writer, which means that the bar is set for infinite down and not infinite up. Yeah. I guess.

-tgs-

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Novel Or Erzählung

It’s been a struggle – thought I actually lost it for a while there – but there has been progress with this new story. The initial intention was to write a short story something like this, or something like this. One idea lead to another and the next thing I know I’ve got something like one-hundred and twenty typed A4 pages sitting on my table. According to what I’ve mapped-out for the story, I’m not quite half finished yet. Of course, this is still just the first iteration. There will naturally be a lot of words that have to be discarded (see end of this post). But I can’t help ask: Is this going to be a novel?

What is a novel?

If my work continues at this rate I’m going to have something like a seventy-five thousand words typed for this story within the next few weeks. But I don’t want to write a “novel”. I know it’s not exactly the amount of words that determines if something is a novel or not but… It’s definitely too long to be a short story.

Oh, pooh-bucka! I’m just so confused.

If you search around the Net you’ll notice that usually publishers and lit agents say that a novel should have something like seventy-five thousand words – give or take a few grand. Which I reckon is fine. But what if you actually don’t want to write a novel? What, in fact, if you don’t really give-a-hoot what/how publishers try to define/label your work? It certainly wasn’t/isn’t my intention with this piece to write a novel. So I got to thinking. What is it, then?

(Worst)Writer advice to those who care about what others think: do exactly as they say and try to do it better than they say and you might make it in this really difficult world of publishing ruled by boy-magicians and the titillating idea that JC got-it-on with MM.

Sometimes here in Germany you buy books that look like a novel – you know, the size, the amount of pages, the taste, etc., – but they are not called novels. Instead they are called Erzählungen. I like this word. It works well for me – but it is one of those typical German words (IMHO) that doesn’t translate well. It’s also one of those German words that, when I get to really thinking about it, is very difficult to explain.

I guess, what I should do at this point, is just leave it alone. I should forget about what it is and just finish writing it. Or?

According to Wiki (German) “Erzählung” is a general term that represents a literary work. No. Wait. That doesn’t make any sense. Again: It is a term used to indicate there is a story being told or something is being narrated. Also, it is a general term that could/can mean novella, anecdote or short story. There is, if I understand it correctly, a whole curriculum of study regarding Erzählung(en). Surprisingly the Germans have called that Erzähltheorie. What’s interesting about trying to define and translate this word is that what it doesn’t seem to describe is a “novel” – even though it can be just as long or just as complex.

I guess that makes sense.

So for my newest story, which I refuse to label a novel, I’m gonna go with the term Erzählung. Even if I don’t now what it is. “My Erzählung is going well, thank you for asking.” There. That isn’t so bad. I also plan on translating my Erzählung as soon as possible and making it my first prose piece that I’ll submit to German publishers. Now there’s a thought: I could potentially be the first writer ever published initially in a language he doesn’t even write in. Yeah right. Get prepared for a bunch of new rejection letters, fellow (worst)writers.

If you think none of the above makes sense, check out the text below. While playing around with a character last week, I came up with the idea of “still-trees”. This is a special and rare type of tree and there’s only one person that has dedicated her studies to these trees. It’s rambling, really, and I’ve since removed the whole idea from the story. I guess it’s just fun (for me) to go back through some of the pages and words that I didn’t actually toss into the bin but instead put aside thinking that maybe, just maybe, there’s still some potential there.

-tgs-

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A Very Sad Day

Yesterday, April 11, 2007, is the sad day, actually.

When I was in college among all those who supposedly would be the future leaders of community, business & commerce and government of the Great United Mistakes of America, there was one outlet that helped me deal with all the hypocrisy, bigotry and pipe-dream bullshit.

Kurt Vonnegut

I vividly remember being in yet another failed university class – I don’t know, Eng 35x or something. The pseudo-teacher (aka tenure seeking academic) was pushing everyone through some krapp curriculum on Beowulf or Paradise Lost or – whatthefuckever. I remember saying to the pseudo-teacher:

“Mr. Dude or Ms. Dudette, I just read Slaughterhouse Five because the krapp you’re making me read every frickin night is boring the shit out of me. I literally found this book under someone’s bed and it’s a great way to learn something about history and even about writing. Seriously. I got to thinkin’ teach: Why don’t you make us read something like this? Why do I have to pay all this money to read boring shit that ain’t gonna teach me nothin’ anywho?”

Of course, anything I had to say to a wannabe comfort seeking pseudo-academic professor was worth its weight. But at least I can say today that, while trying to submit to the coercive and submissive world that is United Mistakes Mis-Academia, at least I discovered Vonnegut.

With the death of Vonnegut, the Great United Mistakes has lost one of the best voices that ever spoke out (up) against everything that is wrong with not just the United Mistakes but everything else in this sorry period of human tragi-history.

-tgs-

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Bukowski, The Man, Too

If you’re interested in another vid of a great writer, check this out.

As I might have or not have said here, Charles Bukowski is a great writer. Although in the clip below he talks mostly about being a “poet”, I consider him just a great writer. Yes, to me, there is a difference. As a late bloomer to both reading and (worst)writing, the one aspect of both that turned me off early in life was “poetry”. Things really got bad for poetry when I went to college. All those dips lurking around to move beyond being an assistant professor or a professor lurking around for (more?) tenure, got me so riled as they forced so-called poetry down my throat, that I just said: fuck this. Please. It’s no wonder, if one looks at the west and how it manages itself, all governed and organized by college grads, that things are so screwed up. Iambic pentameter? If they (teachers, institutions) would finally stop pushing krapp down the throats of young people then maybe, just maybe, things might improve. But what the hell do I know. I love Charles Bukowski and miss him very much.

I also digress.

“The Writer has no responsibility … except to write a good page.”
- C. Bukowski




-tgs-

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Making Use Of Double Space

You see, there is hope for those who fail at pursuing a dream. In this case “hope” actually takes a tangible form: Typing. Others might consider it “writing” but I won’t go to overboard in this post, nor will I proceed in insulting the intelligence of those who actually only happen-stance by this site because they are techie gurus and have comfortable jobs and lifestyles and a connection to virtual reality.

I’ve long since lost any ability to actually write something that someone would want to read – at least, according to publishers and lit agents, write something that is commercially viable. And that’s OK because at my age I’m approaching the singularity that is oneness with nature and human failure. This ultimately means I will have a death that reflects (my)life. Right?

The other day when I was fiddling ’round with some thoughts and i-dears I got to thinking about all the double space I’ve left empty in life. So I picked me out some of that double-space at random and decided to make use of it. Even though tree-pulp isn’t the main ingredient of paper anymore I guess in a way I was thinking about those trees here as well. As I was typing away I got to thinking about the world being flat or round. Also about the universe being infinite or not. This lead to the i-dear…:

When you type to the right margin on a page the world basically ends. Unless, of course, you supersede ending and use that nifty Carriage Return. Then, basically, I mean, if you really break things down to their quintessence, you start all over again from the left margin. Yet, with all this starting and ending everything seems to come together. Or – as in my case – maybe not. (Stay in the hypothetical with me here.) When I type with a computer the CR is virtual and when one looks beyond all that is virtual everything is basically a straight line. Yet the computer shows you a world with perfect CR from the right margin back to the left. Why does a computer emulate something that in reality is much easier to grasp? So… What’s the real motivation behind virtual reality?

Oh my.

OK. Nomatter. Here’s my little i-dear with ridding (my)life of so much double space. Something like instructions on how to read this are in the pic above. Good luck.

-tgs-

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Profundity And Pop

Inspiration can be found in truth. That’s kind of a motto of mine as a (worst)writer. (But don’t quote me.)

Not as often as a few years back but more often than not, I listen to music to kind of take me away, help me relax, or give me a break from (worst)writing. When I listen to music it’s usually only music that in someway has a message or inspires. In the last couple of years I’ve been listening mostly to Jazz and, although it’s taken a while, I love Bitches Brew by Miles Davis.

My age puts me passed the whole “pop music” of recent years but I do follow what’s on the airwaves just so I can keep up with my son. So when it comes to music I consider myself to be “open”. But if I’m appalled at anything coming out of the music business in the last ten to fifteen years it’s this whole scene of talentless “artists” that appeals, like politics, to the lowest common denominator of taste and culture. Every time I see a Beyonce or a Britany or Timberlick or Black Eyed Pansy I feel that cringe in my gut that I used to feel when I drank too much, the bed would spin and the heaves would begin. And if that’s not enough, now we have American Idol-atry.

Thank goodness that every once in a while someone comes along in Pop music and saves us all from the krapp that’s thrown over the airwaves. One particular artist is Alanis Morissette. It was such a relief when radio stations would play “You Oughta Know” from her debut album “Jagged Little Pill” in the mid 90s. I might be wrong but I think Alanis created an entire new genre of rock with this and subsequent albums. I’m not sure what the genre would be called but it’s got to have the word “bitch” in it. And I dig that!

Btw, here some very inspiring musical text: “And every time I scratch my nails down someone else’s back I hope you feel it… Well can you feel it?” – from You Oughta Know by Alanis M.

Never before had the anger and frustration of a woman (rejected) been articulated to me in such a way. The song mentioned above and Alanis were perfect timing because I was about to enter into a typical predestined relationship. You know the kind. These relationships happen every day. Sadly the ending of these relationships has nothing to do with whether you’ve found Mr. Right or Ms. Wrong. Ironically, what Alanis wrote about in her music appealed to me – a man – as much as it appealed to the millions (mostly women?) that bought a debut album and set an all-time sales record.

Anywho.

Alanis has kind of faded away and that’s probably OK. She’s given enough to the world which cannot be said of most artists today. But this morning while scanning this cool news blog (crooksandliars) I happened across this vid. I haven’t been blown away like this in months. This vid is so profound – even though it’s really nothing but a parody – that the memories I had of seeing Morissette in concert twice in Germany and standing in the middle of thousands of people while she sang words about love and loving that made me, a grown and lost man, cry… Well… All I can say to that is… Toris Amos has the same effect on me.

I won’t promote the trash that the video below from Alanis parodies. But I would suggest you give the original a look – especially if you haven’t seen or heard the song before. I refuse to include such trash on my site but I should at least try and be fair. Here is a link to the original video Alanis parodies. (If the link doesn’t work then just search for “black eyes peas” and “humps”.) It’s good to know that someone who is vested in the industry can tell the truth about a very sad state of affairs. And that’s a good thing in a world full of so much Pop krapp.

- tgs-

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Bad Weather, iPod Sucks, DRM

Note: Dear fellow (worst)writer(s), postings in April are gonna be kind of weird because I’m trying to focus on a really bad story I’ve been working on lately. As usual it’s going badly and most likely nothing will come of it. But it is preoccupying me a bit. Whoopee.

Also, this is yet another confusing post – yes, with some post-teen language – trying to find a train of thought, a topic to focus on, or something worthwhile to say.

If you’re here about the iPod complaint then just scroll down a bit.

There are three months out of the year I hate. No, I mean, seriously, I hate these months. First there’s November. I hate November. The second and third hated months are April and May. The reason I hate May is because it seems to me like the only month out of the year that lasts thirty-two or thirty three days. I hate April because it’s pretentious and usually always lies about winter going away. I actually started hating November when I moved to Germany because it always seemed like the time of year where the weather was the worst. You know, it’s always gray and the sky hangs just over your head threatening to dump a cloud on you with every step.

Months were always strange for me. When I was young I remember asking a teacher why we needed months. Included in that question was why we need twenty four hours in a day or twice twelve hours and then there was a bit in there about weeks. Anywho. I said to my teacher one day, “Wouldn’t it be better if we just tracked it all along a single line towards infinity?” The answer – as usual – in a world of misgivings and everything-you-know-is-wrong – was: “No. Things are the way they are. Because that’s just the way it is.” Yeah, everything is that way ain’t it? When I got older and finally learned that time was invented by a bunch of dudes who were stoned out of their minds and spent every night staring at the stars…. I thought: Wow.

One thing in all this (worst)writing is for sure. The weather sucks in Europe. Currently winter is trying to recede but, as usual, it hangs on with some kind of selfish child-like vengeance. I feel this mostly in my bones. One day the sun shines or maybe it shines for three of four days but it’s combined with a cold front. So you’ve got this hot spring sun barreling down on you – which you haven’t felt for nine or so months – and if you wear dark clothes it makes you sweat. (Seriously, the response/answer to that is NOT to wear brighter clothes – at least not in Europe!) Of course the air is almost freezing which causes some pretty nasty chills. Someone told me once that my problem is the way I dress. They added, “You’re not young anymore. When you get older you have to watch out for the weather. If you didn’t make friends with it (the weather?) when you were young, as you get older it won’t get any better.” Thanks pops.

iPod, DRM, iSuck begins here.

So the sun’s been shinning this week and Germany has a few days off on account of the death of that guy some thought was a messiah and others didn’t think was a messiah. So my girl said the other day: “OK, I want a new car radio in the convertible and make sure it works with my iPod.”

My girlfriend ordered an iPod Nano from all the points she collected using one of her credit cards. It’s the 4gb version in silver. Being the cause-less rebel that I am, I would never buy an iPod (with actual money) because, although many years ago I was an avid Apple Macintosh user, I’ve since come to the conclusion that there is nothing innovative about anything Apple does anymore which also means it’s not worth the self-imposed mark-ups that buyers of its products love paying. Since I’d been wanting an MP3 player – on account my cassette Walkman kicked the bucket last summer- I thought, OK, what the hell, let me finally see what all this iPod krapp is about.

In short: iPods suck.

Been fiddling with an iPod for almost six months now and I’m amazed that so many people actually buy this krapp. It is, like all Apple products, completely overpriced and second rate. Nothing more than a memory stick, this thing has got to be the worst “programmed” personal technology device I’ve ever used. On top of that the monopolized PC interface, iTunes, sucks even more. Obviously Apple had to do some serious butt-licking in order to legitimize the downloading of music files post Napster which includes milking the ill-will of the dinosaur music industry mafia. The result: why bother “buying” anything via iTunes? This is nothing but a memory stick dependent on very badly written software – including “mp3″ – that makes the whole product/experience, according to its potential, pretty much useless. (Luckily I have a large enough CD collection so I can just dump songs on the thing. But, to be honest, my old cassette Walkman had much better sound/fidelity than the iPod.)

Continuing with the brilliant and shinny lack of innovation and thoughtlessness that is Apple, their engineers have come up with the first technology product that you can’t actually buy – but you think you’re buying it. Ain’t that really neat-o-torpedo. Seriously. I find it very strange that so many people spend so much money for something that they ultimately don’t even own. Wow. I guess that Steve (brainfuck) Jobs is a pretty smart guy since he can easily trick so many smart people. Can you say DRM? Hold on a sec…

Jobs looks so stupid when he gets up on that podium every year to announce products. Every time I see him my gut tells me I would rather listen to Bill Gates. And that is saying a lot! Gee, to think of all the idiots waiting for the first beta release of iPhone. Yes, I believe that all Apple products are somehow beta. (PCs are too but at least they’re cheap and less pretentious! Which is what all technology should be!)

The reality is, Apple has created probably the first product in history that a person cannot actually own – even though s/he actually buys it. Does that make any sense? Are you bit a lost? Or are you still practicing saying… D-R-M, D-R-M, D-R-M…

My real problem with the iPod started when my girl and I needed to make some changes with the stuff (music?) we had put on it. My girl actually bought one or two podcasts for the iPod and I just loaded about 1gb of music on it from my CD collection. We have three PCs that we regularly use. There’s my girl’s work PC, the home laptop and the home desktop. We initially installed iTunes on the desktop. But then when we tried to synchronize that with the home laptop (yes, we were traveling) iTunes wouldn’t recognize the iPod. This meant that all of the podcasts and music on the iPod were locked into being used ONLY by the home PC where the iPod synchronized with iTunes. And that’s not what we – as owners of these products – wanted. But who are we (idiot consumer)!

Consumer: But this is my iPod. I own it. I can do anything I want with it!

Really Big Fancy Company, Inc.: Think again. Sucker!

In order for Apple to be able to legitimize a product that is dependent on content they cannot own they had to basically sell-out to the providers of that content. This is where the idea/concept of DRM comes into the picture. I won’t get into explaining DRM here because it is a somewhat complex but I highly suggest that anyone considering buying an iPod should get informed about this. And be prepared to do a lot of reading – talk about the proverbial small print! In fact, I suggest that people get informed with or without considering an iPod because DRM is gonna be in our future no matter what.

IMHO DRM is one of the largest consumer scams in history. In short, the reality is, this is the beginning of not being able to actually own anything anymore – even though you will be required to exchange your hard-earned cash/credit in the traditional sense. That is, the day where you take a dollar (or lots of them) and buy something and then call it “mine” will come to end. I don’t know about you but the implications of DRM are pretty strange.

It is somehow ironic when one takes a below the surface look at the US economy and how it actually works these days (comparatively, nothing is produced anymore, everything consumed is purchased with debt, and the only secure work available across the board is low-paying) that something like DRM appears without much attention. I don’t mean attention from the media here. You would think that consumers, especially the so-called educated consumer elites that can actually afford an iPod, would be very, VERY interested in DRM. It may be small now but in the future this concept will be big. The time is coming, for example, that you will never be able to actually “buy” an automobile or “own” a house. You will instead be granted a “right” to use the automobile that is ultimately owned by an investment group or foreign-national cash-cow entity. This goes way beyond the idea of consumer credit, mortgaging, or “leasing”.

Yeah, give an iPod and your stupid monthly car payments a new thought or two when you decide to buy another house that is ultimately financed by bonds that are owned by China or Saudi Arabia or, etc., etc. Wow.

Here a few sites regarding the iSuck world of iPod:

iPods Suck.
This link is just a pretty cool rant about iPods.
Here an interesting and somewhat similar iPod experience.
Here’s a google blog search with “iPod sucks” if you want more.

Originally I intended to make a joke about my girl getting an iPod Nano and now wanting an iPod Video and also wanting it to work with the new radio in her convertible and then adding something about the irony of all the Germans that own convertibles even though the weather is so bad here.

Oh well. So much for focusing on anything.

-tgs-

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Story of Ey, Anecdotes

Although warranted every day in this day and age… there will be no jokes today. (For those who don’t get it… see date of this post.)

Being a voluntary Bible reader – but let me add here that I am at the most an atheist and at the least a still very confused deist – I like parables. Then came the wacky Christian Right of America and suddenly I felt myself a bit out of place. So I gave up “parables” and turned to anecdotes. To be quite frank, I never knew what an anecdote was till one day it was jammed down my throat. Some teacher told me this neat little story – which I can’t remember – and then said it was an anecdote. I turned to her and said, “But that sounded like a parable.” “That’s almost the same thing,” she responded. “But we are in a university here. We don’t use parables,” she added. I enjoyed how Jesus tried to talk to stupid people, you know, so that stupid people could understand his “message”. Very strategic, that fellow, I used to say to myself – even though I never really understood a fuckin’ thing he was trying to say. It was just, growing up with a “God” who actually tried to talk to you was kinda cool. When I finally learned that an anecdote was nothing but an elitist parable, thanks to that really accepting and tolerant teacher, well, hey, what the heck, I dig anecdotes now.

Perhaps a bit long, I consider the excerpt below from my new story “Gloria” to be an anecdote. I’ll use these very short stories in my writing to allow myself to break away from the structure and system required to actually mold a much longer piece of prose. The biggest problem I have with writing is organizing it all. You know, the actual process of getting it from head to paper. I don’t think I was intended for this sort of thing – hence, (worst)writer. Still, I press on. If you’re interested, here’s another anecdote of mine.

Time’s Story To Kev & Tom

A text example from my story “Gloria”

by Thomas Stough

As you know, I am not the best speaker, Time said. But I am the best thinker among the elements of the universe. The situation at hand requires any amount of control that we can muster. Are you both with me? Just nod your heads. Good. Now. There are two reasons that this is happening today. One of those reasons is very simple. It is against all known and established rules of the universe that two men die while fighting each other over the same woman. One of you may die, that’s fine. The simple fact is, if you both continue on this path you break many a’ rule – and upset a few elements, too. Is that clear? Good. Now. The second reason I am here is to pose to you both a question. Before I do that I will tell you a little story. OK? Just nod your heads. You don’t have to ring your minds to try and accommodate me. I know pretty much what you’ re thinking anyway. OK? Good. I’m going to tell you the story of Ey. When I’m finished with the story I’m then going to ask you a question. Understand? Good. Tom? Don’t worry about Kev’s knife. We have that under control. Again. When I’m finished telling you this story I’m going to ask you both a question and you then must answer it. OK? Good. Here we go. Please consider that the story of Ey is not to be taken lightly and there are many in the natural universe that have failed at trying to understand it. It’s not that it’s a complicated story but it is one of, let’s say, variety. Generally speaking, we know “variety” is not one of the windows out of which man tends to look. You follow me? Good. The story of Ey was originally a story of love. But we had to change that a bit because of some dissension among other elements. Instead it became a story of cooperative manipulation. You know, friendly coercion, hereditary privilege, all that. Still with me? Good. Ey was given the gift of life long before Man. At the time it was quite a task for us elements to converge and coordinate in giving Ey form but in the end we were able to pull it off. We decided that Ey would be a small creature. It would have two legs, two wings – although I must tell yon that I and Space were against the wings – it was all the idea of energy and mass, the weak and the strong force, etcetera. Anyway. Of course it also had a head, two eyes, a mouth, etcetera and to communicate it would chirp. What’s that, Tom? Think that again – I missed it the first pass. Oh. You want to know why we gave it the ability to chirp. Just keep in mind that we were at the beginning. That’s right. The beginning of everything. But get this. This is good. In order for Ey to move we decided that its head would have to move in collaboration with its feet. A great idea, really. That way it couldn’t, you know, since we gave it a head and everything, it couldn’t intellectually or physically get away from itself. Still with me fellows? I think that’s one of the funniest parts of the story. Oh. Would you believe at the last minute an element suggested that our new creation be fluffy? We had to kind of throw that in. OK. Do you guys have a picture of Ey? Nod your heads. Good. Now that Ey had form we had to give it purpose. Tom? You OK? You’re starting to look strained. Try to relax. Stay with me now. So. The purpose given Ey was to traverse the universe and then find its way back to where it started. Simple enough, won’t you agree? Ey was even given free rein which meant it could use any means necessary to fulfill its purpose. Before we knew it the little bugger was off. I’m telling you it was a frisky little thing and cute as a button. It jumped across galaxies, hitch-hiked on the back of comets, found a way to rest while hanging on to some asteroid field. It was great. But then, suddenly… Pay attention you two, this is important. Suddenly, in a single flash of Time – that’s me, ha, ha – it arrived at a crossing. This wasn’t just any crossing. It was a crossing of … How do I put this? You see there is only one thing that all the elements agree on. It’s really very simple. All the elements agree that everything is connected. Do you know what I ‘m talking about? Kev? You’re the scientist here. Good. But there are certain things that even the elements do not control. This all part of the complication between Nature and Elements. But I don’t want to lead us astray here, we’ll get into that some other time. Still with me? Good. Now. I think that today you would liken the crossing that Ey reached with something like… Quantum mechanics. Now don’t panic. The reason I say that is because, ultimately, Ey could have easily crossed. But he didn’t. The reason he didn’t, we think, is because he couldn’t see the other side. Remember now what I told you about Ey’s form. The head, feet coordination thing. All of us at elements headquarters were aghast. How many of these bloody living things do we have to make! No matter what we did, what we made, the living things always get stuck. And most recently they all get stuck at this stupid fuckin’ crossing. Ok. Excuse my French, there. So there Ey stood. It was still, I mean motionless, as if it were dead. After a few millennium we bagged it. I mean, we left it. I used to always say in such situations: Time to move on. Ha, ha. And we all did. But then, one day, the elements are all hanging out and suddenly Ey appears. There it is all cute and cuddly and fluffy. Some of the elements got pissed. Where the hell did you come from!, they would ask. How could you be here if you haven’t fulfilled the purpose we gave you, others asked. I mean, come on, think about it. We lost sight of Ey, frustrated that it didn’t fulfill its purpose and so we left it – we channeled our attention elsewhere. Now. Does either of you understand the implications of Ey suddenly appearing as though it had fulfilled its purpose? Granted, some elements could have hung around a bit longer – it’ s not as though all of us are busy all the time. But none did because we have been through this many times before. Create the living, give it all a purpose, hang out and be entertained and then wait for it to reach a crossing and then your eyes pop out from boredom. What? What was that, Tom? Think slowly and I’ll eventually get it. Oh. What does all this have to do with a story of manipulation? Well, like I said, if you were paying attention, initially this was a story of love. We changed the premise to manipulation and all that other stuff because there are elements that are simply incapable of love. Just not in their Nature – if you know what I mean. When Ey appeared, though, it sent shudders through the universe. And do you know what happens when the universe shudders? That is right. Nature awakens – and she’s not pretty when she doesn’t get to sleep-in. In fact, ever since Ey returned, putting some elements into a state of shock, Nature hasn’t been able to sleep-in anymore. Are you guys following me here? Come on. I’m almost finished. In order to have some peace from a forever bitching and moaning Nature, the elements got together and came up with a plan that would stop the shuddering of the universe and finally give Nature a chance to sleep-in. Some elements, though, said the hell with it and they didn’t care if the universe shuddered or not. There were also elements that said because Ey quit that we should just throw it in a black-hole – or something like that. But then my friend Space stepped in and set everyone straight. Everything is connected, Space said. Even though we are dysfunctional with Nature, we are all still connected to her in one way or the other. Let us recognize our doing this one time and get involved with what we have created. There was a few millennium of silence in the hall of elements – Oh, sorry. In the universe. But then everyone finally agreed. You see, if we didn’t somehow agree then the universe would stop evolving and we run the risk of having more problems like we have with Ey and Nature will forever be a sour puss. Still with me fellows? Kev? Tom? Nod. Good. Do you see where this story is going? We created Ey, gave it a purpose, it was off and then … By default, in order for Ey to have returned from fulfilling its purpose it had to have done something at that crossing. Remember the Quantum thing that made you shudder? It makes Nature shudder as well. I tell you, she hates it. She hates it more than most men do. Anyway. For the first time, and this is a pretext for this story, the elements lost track of creation because of this stupid fluffy thing. We want to get back on track, we want once again to partake. Most importantly, we want that bitch Nature to get a good nights sleep and, if possible, someone serve her breakfast in bed. Now. That’s the end of the story. But it is not the end of purpose. I’m going to leave you both but before I do I want you to focus. Pull all your strength together, reach deep into your consciousness, go mining for it. I know that neither of your egos want to hear this but there is a lot depending on you two. I suggest you face that fact. Trust me when I say that your every action has meaning and purpose. Still with me? Good. Now. Do you have any questions regarding the story of Ey? Are you sure? OK. The elements of the universe want to stop all the shuddering. We admit that we lost touch with all that we created but we want to finally make good. Ey is among us, cute and fluffy as ever, but it’s difficult communicating with it – and that too is our mistake. We now turn to you, our greatest achievement and ask for your help. Now. Please, tell us, based on what you know of Ey. Did it cross…?

Write and Rant on,

-tgs-

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