All of a Sudden

He’s resurrected!
it’s truly a marigold.
But you know what?
It’s this very kind of
garden-variety entendre
that I’ve been meaning to avoid here,
amongst all the sordid
ne’er-do-well activity
that seems to define our times
all of a sudden.

Wasn’t integrity of character
ever something to strive toward?
Maybe not in this system of
checks [cashed] and balances [slashed].

Though perhaps I’m as guilty
as any other layabout milquetoast out there,
lounging around the house
sipping my pink lemonade martinis
(my live-in mixologist’s proprietary recipe)
and grousing like one of my commoner counterparts.

Dips and Dives

Exaggerating one’s influence should be among those acts reserved for the dolomite entrepreneurs out there with more margarine than non-dairy coffee creamer at their regular disposal.

If we allow these blowhards to navigate the kitchen table’s width and fail to uncover the tangential ne’er-do-wells we’ve been warned about, then what was it all for?

All we can say is that protesting such an alteration of manifest destiny (density?) comes with the price of freedom (and a bag of chips in some circumstances), and nothing short of Ozzy the Philistine could resurrect the embattled intentions of those labor organizers mainly concerned with seizing the means of production.

We must remain ever-vigilant, for you never know when pediatric charlie horse tendencies will rear their ugly heads in the recesses of adolescent America. We (the Americanses) once sat atop the global jungle gym, our ingenuity and general cuteness inspiring power-seekers a world around to blush with envy at the amenities they could only imagine (until that coal train came a rolling down the bend with the promise of sooty modernity), filling their heads with unrequited lust for widgets and modules and bells and whistles that could fill their modest spaces—digital and otherwise.

And, of course, once even a modicum of that prosperity had begun evening the materialistic score, we flat out lost our lease on the planet. As our Gaia gathers the foreclosure paperwork, we scramble like the varmints we really are, pushing and shoving, blaming all but ourselves and projecting our greed onto unrealistic scapegoats for just long enough to lose any chance of saving what had once been humanity’s little slice of paradise that, against all odds, had once been a serviceable milieu.

Ah well, the sloughing-off period is just gonna have to start a little early this time around, with a tad more english on the dips and dives.

Impressionology

Facile fabrication comes with half-price wine and a half-decent idea of what it means to be a cut-rate pilgrim on the eve of the seventh tardigrade.

So now, Jimber Unfletching Libberdijibbet (that’s his stage name) has a bone to pick with the absurd nature of his very existence on this here rock orbiting a mid-grade star of no particular distinction. For one: how could his sorry-ass soul have been picked to inhabit a corporeal manifestation of this godforsaken planet? His mind simply wasn’t malleable enough to adapt to such mental calisthenics, even if said activities only constituted a sixteenth of one morning each second Thursday after waterobics.

He needed a tutor of sorts to escort him down the row of unconcerned minds, so he could become one of those most-enviable kinds of folks who look so cool that their general demeanor forces them to do everything but justify the wherewithal that led the to cultivate such a persona in the first place.

But, after all, we happen to inhabit an age of severe impressionology. I can see I may have lost you on that last one. It’s essentially a myriad of minuscule multiplicities as seen through the eyes of numerous (some would say innumerable) individuals, wherein people tend to default toward the middle of the pack so as to avoid embarrassing themselves in front of those in the know.

I know.

This Disregarding Chagrin

It would appear as though I’m getting somewhat flummoxed at the disregarding chagrin our elders heap upon us one at a time by the out-turned burlap sackful as we billowing travelers have nothing better to do than adjust our expectations and run with the idiocy. Lack of a better option? More likely a surplus of crippling anxiety and sneaking suspicion that this generation is going to die out soon enough anyway, so why engage with them at all when we could be pursuing our own noble causes and callings?

Oh,
so you’re saying that they’ve been indoctrinating their families and offspring into the cult of reaction, that distinct line of cash grabs formed out of boredom and greed by the people just smart enough to get how the whole system works but also evil enough to profit unscrupulously from it?

Gotcha.
So I can’t just sit back and tend my garden of unconcern? Friggin’ bummer, man.

Telekinetics

The future of telekinetics goes as follows:

Gene Squadron Trowel-Resistant
Pantaloons

Jungle Drapes, Inc.
[A Subsidiary of Jaunty
Enterprises]

Tom Cat Harry and his Grumpy
Shenanigans
[That Silly Old Boy,
He Really Should Be
Put Down]

But Aren’t You a Bob
Marley Impersonator?

Yesterday, 12,000 bees or so
decided to, uh, there’s
no other way to put it, swarm
on my succulent ‘do.
°Nothin’ I could ‘do.®

°Intellectual Property of
The Gideon Partners
[In Perpetuity]

Crumpet Festival

Drangled intermittent scratch patterns engulf the otherwise narrative-laden crumpet festival, but you know what? Nobody seems to have noticed that detail in the first place, completely unaware of even why that would ever be considered a big deal at all. When I was a more divisive person, I more than likely would have acted immediately in the form of a lecture or rant to whip them into shape. How dare they maintain their ignorance of such an excruciatingly-crucial detail?! As the years have passed–and time’s been kind to me–I’ve learned when to retreat and let folks have their own little moments in the obscurity of their uninformed worldviews (even when it gets to the point of paining me).

Jesus!!
Will youse make up your minds already?!
I’m starving
and my tea is getting cold.

Large Woodland Mammals

I won’t steer you
in any specific direction
until you’ve actually tried my cereal.

Just two doses a day
can ward off severe depression,
as evidenced by my friend Smoky over here.

He used to be
an average melancholic bear, but
after an all-cereal regimen, he was bouncing

off the walls
all the time. Granted,
an all-cereal diet will be high in sugar,

but you mustn’t discount
the great benefits just because
of a little weight gain and jitteriness.

Effects of this product
have not been extensively documented
on human subjects, but there is a glut of research

as it pertains
to the treatment of large woodland
mammals (bears, quadrupeds, yetis, etc.).