Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Part 7: am I the hunter's disciple?

So what is the game of debriefing a supermarket visit? A lousy test of temporary knowledge?We did not dig deep till now did we. We hardly touched any substance. Well I did not. Are you alright with your head on the ground? I can hardly hear you from down there. What you say? The building? I do not know anything about architecture! Let me fix your headquarters but first move a little. There are more rooms in the mansion after all and in the dining room we can finish our bun. I will also eat your part since you are not capable of simply swallowing it without taking extra risks. Want to sit in the bus shelter and throw some wood on the fireplace? Can you move? Need a hand? You are so cold, old soldier, you want your brain back? Buy a ticket and take a ride?

They sit as Sluik suggested for a while at the bus-stop where no immediate words are spoken. Senis gets his breath back and recovers from the breakdown or stroke he had earlier. Sluik is not the least worried or impressed with the setback nor the quick recovery and crunches away on Senis' part of the bun. He has become a patient and obedient man once in a while and in between and waits until Senis speaks. The supermarket is their view. Senis suddenly starts fountaineously and Sluik spits out a sporadic question mark in between:

It is the building I wanted to hear some words about. The shell as much as the shelf. Tell you ahead: I like it so much and want you to agree with me. Can not care less what happens behind my back. You buy we sell. To call it kiwi is also brilliant. Just brilliant! Ha, you worry about fooling the client and nag about fake behaviour! Nothing of that kind here. Not in the attitude of selling and not in the way of presenting it. You are kidding? No, I will make you agree with me in a few minutes. It is not particularly this one but the principal of all. Slowly the world has made the dividing of wealth a virtue. We Northern ones except so many things now without questioning. We can all live with no concern! Endless temporary. Huxley alive today would immediately revise or hide the brave new world! Hypnopaedia is after all not needed to get us worshipping the reality stars. And we have liberated the world for all products to travel free! That is progress! The drug is there too it just does not come in a capsule or on a plate. Soon we do not have to move anymore or anywhere, not even virtually. The product will travel for us. We will get a product that goes for us on holidays and makes us relax and continue to relax. A Huxley drug that tans us is around the corner for the whites amongst us. Cynical Senis needs a parasol?You might not agree with the new world rules but have to agree they do a good job of it. A free market with a huge but invisible fence or camouflaged panzer-box and eyed with CCTV, not to scare the occasional notorious nut pickers of your handful sort but to scare ourselves, the innocent. They even create crisis of conveniences to clear up some bonos and spilled leftovers of the past. Look at it. Look at it! The store is a massive sea container with mouth and ass and we clients enter and leave through the ass! We actually never get to see the mouth. We do not even know where it is. I would say the building is in excellent condition with the expiring date as long as it's products. The archaeologist of the 25th century will not find a trace of the kiwi! You still wonder if I do not fool you, you poor Fidel. Robbing and evaporating is the new form! See the long-term use of it. It is only an example. There is an abundance of kiwis and it is spreading like a new satisfactory flu. Would be good for the observers if the development goes to a little overweight for the building. The predicament of Erwin Wurm! You want some round curves? Or it is good as it is, so straight forward. Supreme and breathtaking! Convinced with the beauty of your evil opponent for the better world? Sl ...

This has really gone far enough. It is really getting smelly and beyond the point of using energy on. The reversibility is so obvious and so tedious and tiresome. Thinking that I am honestly observing but finding myself constructing constructions. If I continue like this I end up with the Michael Moore righteousness disease. Oh what a pretentious blabla and pitiful behaviour. Oh yes truth does not exist which includes subjective truth and partisan truth and slain or lovers truth and in my case the truth of the coward. It is all much more real out there! I will start over again but delete nothing.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Part 6: in the garden of kiwi.

As the word turns this title will be a little too Norwegian perhaps...

The soup is less hot so I might as well stick to the jumping and clarify some here some there of what is observed and heard. The kiwi episode is just the right thing to mention. Oh, do realize I make a sinuous giant leap now but that is me: time dictates directions and not the other way round.

So remember it to know now! I already told you several times what the word temporary really means. Yes, I see that now, old man, and love the simplicity of it. Just needed some time to let it sink in. Well, you should do better than that. You have got after all the date right. You really think that has something to do with it? I mean, I use it myself so many times but thought more of it as a gimmick or play of turning numbers and establishing hardly existing or thin relating links and showing the academics I see the light too while clogging their memories with my truth! Brave aimless sabotage boy! Do not think it is as easy as that. Should be but it is not. Not yet. Let's walk. My back still hurts but I can breath now. Let's walk a little distance. To the chain-store where we get a bun. Let us walk to that kiwi!

It is the only shop in a circle of at least half a kilometer or so. The next one is a gas station. Their local supermarket is situated at the end of a trolleybus line. A little up the mountain of Natland. There is the main road, the bus-stop and a huge parking as an observatory crest, overlooking beautifully the centre of the city below, all the way to the sea. Temperature is just below zero that day and thin drizzling snow occasionally falls, snow like rain and rain like snow. They stroll there in utter silence and go for one large plain bun to share. Sluik enters and pays with the deposit of bottle and tins. Senis stands outside. They take in the view nibbling and Sluik says if seeing it for the first time: Oh, what a lovely view! It's a great parking with a view! A discount parking plot panorama pleasure! which triggers Senis enough to turn the subject:

Stop biting bits of bun for a second, leave the view for a minute and turn around for a while and look at the door you just came out of and give me some words about the space while you were visiting the bread section. Lend me your brain and tell me what you encountered.

All for our convenience I enter the suburban unclassified corrugated temple-box below the green neon kiwi. I pass cryptic announcements telling the times I can fill up with consumption and bargains which means it is always open when I am not sleeping. Entrance is Exit. Cash desks ahead and turn left right left passing pamper, washing powder, frozen food section. That's it. Now it is just various buns ahead. I take one and continue straight to the deposit department to cash my tin. As a habit I pick a nut in yogurt cream or two and via carrot and herbs and beer and sweets I Ass get out, breathless and find you looking in bins for new tins. No memory of other passersby. Not even a recall of the face of the till girl... No, that is not true. Almost forget I saw Tilbud in the corner of my eye... He is loud.

Oh, it is an extremely dull place with the average pretty spot face filling the lanes and counting cash registers. Ugly place of plain providing. I mean really ugly and full of stuff of wants and not haves with enough room for a mold in the box. Priced stuffing blowing and sucking without making too much fuzz about it's overweight. Chain store politics of greed rules here. Did the monster not shit it's pile just where it wants ? Is it questioned? What do you expect me to come up with? Are they not fuck all the same wherever you may go in the country?

Gmpho! Gumpho! Gonpho? Guntho! Gun who? No, gontzo! Gonzo? Yes, Gonzo... Bun... Bum!! What about Gonzo? Ah, I get your point I think. Gonzo the Muppet puppet was on sale? Still stuck that bun? I slice your head off and you are cured.