IS NOTHINGNESS A THING?

notes:

 

TOO MANY HUNKS

learned:

* see, this should've won, something.

* speaking of won, this looks like a one-off, so savor every bite, chew your food, don't swallow until you've tasted, that is broad life advice for any occasion.

* the picture above is symbolic, poor Steve Brule has slipped on his own self. there are too many hunks in the world, and the hunk in this piece is also a little punk. hunk punk. punk hunk. double dose of impossible, to deal with.

* so what if the hunk has tickets for some generic glam band?! hair metal sucks. i went straight from Adam Ant to Nirvana. i had to skip Guns N' Roses and Metallica cos i was grounded those years.

* i thought Steve Brule was a doctor, not a bag boy.

* is it bagboy or bag boy?

* how would we eat if not for cans?

* whenever you see the puppeteer in the shot ruin the magic of having a reallife talking puppet, the audience immediately moves from the puppet's life to the puppeteer's life and wonders what kind of life the puppeteer really lives, when the cameras are turned off.

* maybe she really needed to wash her hair. now you feel bad. hey, love at first sight is a real thing, don't knock it till you imagine it for yourself.

* you are never so hungry that you can eat a horse. this store serves actual horse in cans. we really need to separate literally and figuratively out again.

* in some cultures, kissing is a sign of affection.

* breaking a pencil is a sign of good luck, not bad luck. you'll get an unexpected package at your house afterwards, you'll see. you'll have to sign for it with something, though.

* do you know why security guards are always shown sleeping and thus letting the bad guys get away? they're resting up for the final battle with the bad guys at the end.

* speaking of packages, what can Brown do for you? you never want to see how the butcher meat is made...

* it's the eternal dilemma: lie to the out-of-your-league blonde about her angelic brother who's a secret delinquent to maintain your chances, or come clean and come alone as usual. she's never gonna believe you, that's fer sure.

CLICK HERE FOR THE FULL GOURMET COURSE MEAL.

OR CLICK HERE FOR BUT A SAMPLING ON A TOOTHPICK, PROBABLY GONNA BE THE ONLY WAY MY BEAUTIFUL NON-AMERICAN FRIENDS CAN GET A TASTE. BUT THERE'S SOME NICE CON-CROWD REACTION AMBIANCE/DECOR WITH IT.

happy weekend. i'm on a boat this weekend, sailing to a lonely island to clear my one thought. don't take life too seriously, don't sweat the small stuff, and it's all small stuff, until that one big stuff comes and gets ya in the end. ate too many cookies turns out. i have a choice of sail: one white and gold, the other blue and black. i made my choice...oh, i thought i picked the white one, this one is blue. natural lighting playing tricks. whether skipping the waves or tripping on the stars above, may you all live long and prosper.

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THUMB SWEAR

old themes, new memes, an old beginning, same ol fuck, different yet always the same, cliche for our own good, lessons learned that never seem to get learned with each passing generation, new page, old problems, turn the page but it's the same outdated book that has a spine and is full of helldust and can be felt up and touched, isn't a mechanical cold humanless tablet, think that way and you'll end up homeless, that's what we need more of in this world, spines and touching, it's a lost art to be strong and caring.

the one thing that is undeniable, the one thing that everyone notices about this place is the heat. it's dry but when it's wet it makes the dry more dry, moist dry. everywhere in this place a storming heat beats down on skin and skin alike, on the stones, melting them a little on the corners that you almost see the beginnings of the formation of a gray crayola crayon, not a new color, but a real one from the earth, not a fake mixed one for the kids' eyes to light up. it's so hot all the time. the steamfall, well, there you go, steamfall doesn't help. the women of the village wear skimpy outfits, skimpier, to beat the heat and the men don't care, it's moved way past sexual into survival.

Sunsong: why has the Fire Demon cursed us so? we know no water, our crops have become resistant to growing, WE NEED A MIRACLE, CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE AT THIS LINK.

Kenyatta: you need people, we all do. gods are gods but people fuel gods. and the fire fuels everyone into a frenzy if you let it. i need you and you need me. each other. each. together. i didn't ask to come here, at least not consciously, but now that i'm here, all that is is here and me in it, i have no past and no future if i can't help you guys out, i couldn't live with myself, i couldn't live forward. present is all, presence is all.

Sunsong: i feel the Fire Demon approaching once more. you feel him, too, don't doubt it. i can't go through this anymore, none of us can, we work and we work to get our homes our lives our village back together and for what? eventually we know the Fire will come back and burn it all down into the ground. what is our great sin? we're just livin' over here. we gotta eat. everyone's gotta eat. it's like Sisyphus and the stone. that stone, our burden. what did we do to be in the hot seat? we didn't throw a basketball at a college player's head. we are simple, yes, primitive, absolutely, but our simple ways are honor and trust and vegetarianism and living off the land and worship and respect and not much wild violence in the wild. it's a dog-eat-dog world, we experience that literally, but we hold true to our ancient ways because they are the humblest, having been the hotshot kid who gets put in his place, shot down a few pegs a couple times.

Kenyatta: not to get all Socrates on ya, but you don't seriously believe in the gods, do you? everything has a scientific explanantion, if not now, eventually. it's that last reason that scares us all. yoga is pure science, i practice it, it is my ritual. i'm sure we can figure this out rationally. your husband is worldly and brings worldly things and ideas back to the vilage.

Sunsong: well, to me, not to the other villagers. they are still left out in the cold. my husband shares things from the urbane world, western civilization. i am elite.

Kenyatta: careful how you throw around that word, that's another world of problems. darkened doorsteps are created when there are those left in the dark. eastern civilization is better. so you see, you probably are thinking to yourself that there really isn't a fire demon, it's just unseasonably warm. see that! global warming, perfect, you are instantly on the left side of the issue and my friend. noble ideals like warmth and compassion are complicated, too complicated it seems for this modern complicated world.

Sunsong: our only hope is to pray to the Ice Demon. when things are larger than our comprehension, we must turn to a higher authority and hope for the best. they are the higher authority after all, they should have higher magic we don't, better seeds in their bags, better celestial strings to tighten around stars and control the weather and any intruders who want to get in.

Kenyatta: look, are there any ice packs in the village?

Sunsong: ice can't form here, only in the domain of the Ice Demon, if He deems.

Kenyatta: well, deigns.

Sunsong: where are the men? we need them.

Kenyatta: no we don't, we can manage just fine. i'm sorry i used that word, i always hated my middle-managers. we will triumph without them, we are strong, stronger than men, that's a scientific fact, they would just mess things up. look at countries and institutions run by women, shit gets done, no gridlock anywhere in the vicinity. we pull hair like the men but eventually the answers come and we agree. we don't have pissing contests. i think it's cos we secretly like to get our hair pulled.

Kenyatta gets on her knees to search around the immediate area for supplies.

Sunsong gets on her knees to pray silently. the closer you get to her lips, the more you recognize that the words go from English to broken English.

Yayray is floating on the ocean.

eventually, eventually, rescue workers helicopter him in to the cavernous inside of a small searching copter.

the other rescue worker: what's your name, son?

Yayray (confused but not about what you think): yayjay, jaybird, pick one, does it matter what my name is? my character is what matters, i am a character, but a character. how dare you question me. do you know who i am?

rescue worker: yes but do you?

Yayray (dazed): i think i hit my head on the water, should've dived. i heard helicopters. parents, is that you?

rescue worker Benedict: i'm not your mommy and i'm definitely not your daddy. son, do you know where you are? why are you trying to kill yourself?

Yayray: it's the only thing that makes me feel alive. i'm trying to figure things out before i try out for Jeopardy, i want as much knowledge as possible, of everything. i haven't experienced everything yet, i'm scared too, i'm still young. i feel nothing, i'm numb, but i did feel you taping me, we modern kids are hip to that sort of thing.

rescue worker Cucumber: that was me, filmed you and me ziplining to safety. what a rush! already the video has a few hits on youtube.

Yayray: oh no, not that shit again. please just take me to a less complicated place, a place we all recognize despite our varying backstories, a grocery store, it's still shopping day.

Cucumber: i said ditch the rescue basket and the litter, let's make history with you. after all, it's already historic that you survived such a splashfall.

Yayray: my tummy was made for food, i can cannonball with the best of 'em.

Benedict: you were a master of slacklife though unconscious. you were unconscious out there, rookie! Cue and i are looking out for you. beginner's luck.

Yayray: thank you for looking out for me, i certainly am not. yes i am a slacker but i'm young, just beginning, i still got time. slacklife, huh?

Benedict does a better job than Cucumber at explaining slacklife to a buzzing Yayray on the trip to the grocery store. Yayray is buzzed on something new.

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