tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51932393635385642842024-03-08T00:29:18.619-05:00Writings of The SagestKevin S. Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02279586264363970630noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193239363538564284.post-85814498280293191002018-03-21T14:23:00.000-04:002018-03-21T14:23:01.422-04:00<br />
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">Bison and Bean Chili*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Ingredients:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
2 TBSP olive oil</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
2# ground bison</div>
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1 <i>15.5 oz</i> can of red kidney beans OR chickpeas,
rinsed and drained</div>
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2 garlic cloves, minced</div>
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1 large yellow onion, peeled and chopped</div>
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1 green bell pepper seeded and chopped OR 1 ancho pepper
seeded and chopped</div>
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2 TBSP flour</div>
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1 <i>28 oz </i>can diced tomatoes with juice OR 7 large
tomatoes peeled and chopped</div>
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1 <i>16 oz</i> can tomato sauce</div>
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1 cup water, plus more as needed</div>
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¼ tsp salt</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
¼ tsp ground black pepper</div>
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1 TBSP unsweetened baking cocoa</div>
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2 TBSP chili powder</div>
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½ tsp smoked Serrano chili powder OR ¼ tsp habanero chili
flakes (or less) for heat</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Instructions:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<ol start="1" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Heat a
large pot on the burner on medium heat, add the olive oil.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the olive oil is shimmering, but
not smoking, add the bison.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sauté
the meat until it’s almost done.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Add
the garlic, onion, and green pepper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Continue to cook until the onion is translucent.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Whisk
together the flour and water, then add the slurry to the pot, stirring to
incorporate.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Add
the tomatoes, tomato sauce, and all the spices, stirring constantly.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Bring
pot to the boil, then turn the heat down until chili is just simmering on
the stove.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Let
the chili simmer uncovered, stirring every ten minutes or so, until the
tomato and tomato sauce break down, changing in color from bright red to
dark brick red.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This may take up to
70 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Add water to the chili
to keep the volume about the same as when the simmering started.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b>DO NOT</b> let the chili dry out or
stick to the bottom of the pot.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Once
the color change has occurred, (ensuring the acids have cooked out of the
tomatoes) taste the chili.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Add
salt, pepper, or chili powder as needed to balance the flavors.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Add
the beans or chickpeas to the pot, stirring to combine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Keep the heat on until the beans reach
the same temperature as the chili, perhaps 15 minutes, stirring
frequently.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Serve
chili hot, with your shredded cheese and chip of choice as a garnish.</li>
</ol>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Tips
and Tricks<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in; text-indent: .25in;">
Peeling fresh
tomatoes isn’t a giant headache if you know how to deglove them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fill a small saucepan ¾ full with water and
bring it to rolling boil.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fill a larger
bowl ¾ full with ice water (cubes and all).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Put each tomato in the boiling water for a minute, submerging with a
spoon if necessary, then place each tomato in the ice bath for ninety seconds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tomato skin should split and remove with
ease.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in; text-indent: .25in;">
The green pepper
added to this chili could be any large fleshy green pepper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anchos are a bit smoky, bell peppers are sturdy but plain, a large <st1:city><st1:place>Anaheim</st1:place></st1:city> would add
more heat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do what works for you.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in; text-indent: .25in;">
This chili can
be spicy or just savory, but the cheese should complement it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the chili is spicy, and you want to mellow
it out, use charp cheddar cheese.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the
dish needs a little kick instead, pepper jack cheese works well.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in; text-indent: .25in;">
You can garnish
this chili with lime chips if you want, ALaw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No one will judge you.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in; text-indent: .25in;">
*This recipe
adapted from one in <u>Killer Chili</u> by Stephanie Anderson (from a recipe
provided by the Cougar Ranch Bed and Breakfast Lodge in <st1:place><st1:city>Missoula</st1:city>,
<st1:state>Montana</st1:state></st1:place>).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s not the same thing, but it’s where I started from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Credit where credit is due.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Kevin S. Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02279586264363970630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193239363538564284.post-43598957987808692912018-01-20T00:48:00.000-05:002018-01-20T00:48:09.380-05:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Life, Death, and Pizza: An Argument for Cooperation<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;">By Kevin S. Mahoney<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span>“Mister Wolfe
says we never get to the why of anything.”
So intoned possibly the best narrator of detective fiction ever devised,
Rex Stout’s Archie Goodwin. I forget
which novella he says that. Having read
them all, certain details blur. But it
has that blend of snarky omniscience that Wolfe maddeningly displays with
regularity when he sees something in a murder case that no one else does, and
calmly solves the case.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"> That idea stuck
in my head, is still there. I don’t know
if I believe it, which practically proves the point. If I don’t know what I believe to be true,
what certainty exists? It’s possible
that everyone just feels their way along, every moment of every day. It’s not quite fate, but it’s not pure free
will either. And pretty chaos and flinty
pragmatism are wound together, indistinguishable and therefore inseparable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"> Yet I believe
in and practice altruism. The form it
takes varies. I might hold a door. I have given directions around my city to
clueless tourists countless times.
Sometimes I write a check to a charity.
Usually the opportunity drops into my lap, and I throw up my hands and
give the universe a nudge in what I perceive as its intended course, because it
seemed like the thing to do at the time.
I don’t go looking for it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"> Robert
Twigger, British author and veteran of the world’s most difficult martial arts
course, learned during that year long trial that there were two types of people
(both students and teachers) involved in it: the monk types who wanted to make
the path of success clearer and easier for those who came after them, and the
hard boys who figured the difficulty should be passed along, as it adds
character. I agree with that division just
as strongly as I do with Mr. Wolfe, and I know I am one of the monks. The world is difficult enough. So if I see a situation developing that
mirrors one that has gone sideways in my own life, I am compelled to put my
hand on the tiller and keep the bow of the world above water.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"> I was nearly
excommunicated once. For the
non-Catholics out there (which statistically is almost everybody, which is
fine) a moment of explanation: excommunication is the denial of salvation of a
parishioner by direct intervention of the clergy. The flip side of the Catholic concept of
confession, if a person fucks up badly enough the priesthood can come to the
decision that he or she isn’t fit for heaven.
Once thrown out of the Church, conduct in life past that point becomes
immaterial. Go directly to HELL, do not
pass Go, do not collect any further communion wafers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"> To be fair, it
was an accident. And neither I nor the
nun who proofread my blasphemous remarks were in our right minds. But I said what I said and wrote what I
wrote, so I take full responsibility.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"> I wrote the
eulogy for a young priest who had served my first college. He died in the early hours of Christmas day,
twenty odd years ago. He had held a </span><st1:time hour="0" minute="0"><span style="line-height: 150%;">midnight</span></st1:time><span style="line-height: 150%;"> mass at a nearby church, then fell
asleep at the wheel driving home. I got
back from Christmas break to flyers that didn’t make sense no matter how many
times I read them, and probably still wouldn’t if I had continued to be
religious. I found the nun who had run
the campus ministry with him, and after she broke the horrible news, she asked
me to be a part of his service. I had
been involved in Sunday mass almost two years at that point, reading and giving
communion, and I couldn’t say no. I have
no real singing talent, and I don’t play an instrument. She gave me the only other piece of the
service that was available.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"> At first look,
this seems like two people making interlocked bad decisions. But it wasn’t wholly unreasonable. I had been an altar boy all through grade
school and served in many weddings and funerals. I knew the format of the eulogy, and I knew
the man who had died, more than some strange imported priest, who would have doubtless
delivered something far more generic.
And I sweated that speech. I
wanted everyone to know what made Father Mike different from all the stodgy,
dour, senior citizen priests I had been raised by. And in crafting the best send off for Father
Mike I could, I overlooked the first runner-up rule of speechwriting: know your
audience.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"> Halfway
through explaining how fun, and relatable, and warm, and cheering Father Mike
was, I looked up from my notes to see two plus rows of incredibly insulted
priests. If any one of them had been
armed with holy fire, or some other decorum preserving weapon, I would have
been dead already. Still at the lectern,
I did the only thing I could think of; I blamed the nun for setting me up. She and I laughed, and then I finished
reading. I don’t remember blushing
through the remainder of the service, but I must have. I’m not a monster.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"> That extreme
experience has stuck with me the entire second half of my life. So when I found out that someone a bunch of
my idols knew and loved had died prematurely, and quite a few of them were
stressed and nervous about their roles in his send-off, I saw a tiller than
needed steadying. There were some
complications. I only know my idols
digitally. I didn’t know the man who
died at all. And his memorial was on the
other side of the country, three time zones away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"> Courage takes
strange forms when required. The
memorial was a ticketed event. The
schedule was made public on social media.
I knew where people would be, when they would be there, and having been
in their shoes, I knew what kind of boost might help. I bought enough pizza to feed all the
performers and had it delivered backstage.
I told no one in advance. It is
still easier to ask forgiveness than permission, even in </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="line-height: 150%;">Seattle</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="line-height: 150%;">.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"> I was happy to
learn that the food got there and was well received. I don’t think anyone would have blown it as
badly as I almost did two decades ago.
It felt really good to know that I made a horrible high stress situation
a little easier. Life might be a mess, a
flailing chain of events holding everyone hostage. But that doesn’t prevent bravery, compassion,
and the delivery of surprise gourmet pizza.
Be the slice you want to see in the world.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">Special Notes:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
</div>
<ul>
<li>This is the first post of 2018. I ignored the blog last year, due to Trump angst.</li>
<li>This post was composed to TMBG's new album <u>I Like Fun</u>. It's great, go buy it.</li>
<li>The Robert Twigger book is <u>Angry White Pyjamas</u>. It too, is excellent. </li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Kevin S. Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02279586264363970630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193239363538564284.post-28440357836616814062014-09-05T12:24:00.000-04:002014-09-06T09:15:14.284-04:00Scene from a Rerview Mirror, my effort at Wordplay Season 2, Episode Two<br />
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Scene from a Rearview Mirror</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">By Kevin S. Mahoney</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I didn’t have
to stop for him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My light was off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was just a few miles from the shop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My fare sheet was full enough that I’d be
taking a good haul home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d looked the
back seat over when I stopped for gas and coffee, and it was free of both puke
and dropped cell phones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The hand-off
would have been seamless.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">But there was enough light over him
to see his shiner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And there was half a
sleeve caught in the edge of his suitcase.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His shocked face shone in the mercury vapor lamp, his stubble casting a
shadow down his neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t tell if
he was in trouble or merely running from it before I passed him by.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The light turned red at the
corner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He started towards me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wasn’t running, but he wasn’t moving with
any dignity either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The single suitcase
pulled him off center, but he squared his shoulders and was trying so hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The light changed.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I took my foot off the brake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was about to signal left and get out of
there, when his hand found the latch on the passenger’s side rear door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The door opened, but he didn’t pile in like
the drunks normally do, he just ducked his head in and tried to find my eyes in
the mirror.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I have money,” he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I just need a ride across town.”</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">His voice cracked on the word
ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t panic, not quite yet,
but I could hear his breath whistling in his throat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His adrenaline must be pumping pretty hard to
make him sound so young.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I waved him
into the backseat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">He slid his suitcase over behind me
and sat down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I turned my signal off and
pulled away from the intersection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
going to give him a minute to think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then, the back window exploded all over us.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What the hell
is this?!” I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was accelerating,
straining to outdistance whoever had it in for him, my eyes switching to the
rearview mirror, then back to the road ahead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was an intersection in the distance; I made for it, even though I
couldn’t see anyone following the car.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“She said it
was mine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She just dropped it on me over
dinner when I noticed she wasn’t drinking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I told her I didn’t believe her, she hit me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Right in the face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After that, she came at me with the table
lamp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got her to calm down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I promised her we’d talk about it in the
morning, like adults.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I couldn’t
sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So when she finally started to snore, I got
up as quietly as I could and packed what I could get to without making any
noise.”</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I didn’t know
what to believe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess it didn’t
matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were going to an airport, a
train station, or maybe a friend’s house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But we were going to find an ATM first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was no way I was paying to replace that window myself.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Miscellany:</span></strong></span></div>
<ul>
<li><div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">This is my attempt at exposition as per the video </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u16l1_-Wrik&list=PLUXRtYLIAoiLKWAR-naOKCGCnKgQrNCID" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">here</span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">. I think Miss Harper's videos are great fun, and while I don't usually do the challenges, I thought I might try this one. The phrase I based the above on was, "I could have stopped at any time".</span></span></div>
</li>
<li><div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">This piece was written using my Pandora Neil Young Station and Guatemalan coffee.</span></span></div>
</li>
<li><div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I used both the infodump (the passenger) and incluing (the driver) in this piece.</span></span></div>
</li>
<li><div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Once again, comments are welcome. My email is </span><a href="mailto:thesagest77@gmail.com"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">thesagest77@gmail.com</span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> and my twitter handle is @TheSagest. Please forward all praise or gripes.</span></span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
Kevin S. Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02279586264363970630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193239363538564284.post-31785901797812588932014-08-08T11:03:00.000-04:002014-08-08T11:05:41.943-04:00<br />
<br />
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The Flying
Snowman, Mordor, The No Prize, and Hulk’s Teeth</span></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">by Kevin S. Mahoney</span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
much better writer than I, John Scalzi, invented a term for the thing in a
fictional work that throws your disbelief out of kilter and takes your head out
of a story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He called it a Flying
Snowman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a neat concept.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has a great blog post about it <a href="http://whatever.scalzi.com/2011/12/11/the-flying-snowman/"><span style="color: blue;">here</span></a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He also tweeted something about the Hulk’s
teeth being a FS for him in Marvel Comics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><br />
<a name='more'></a>I have read a lot of comic books, probably too many.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Initially, I was going to write a column
defending Hulk’s teeth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could have
called it <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: green; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;">HULK GNASH!!</span></b>, but I dismissed the idea
as far too silly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, the idea
persisted, and so I’m writing a roundabout missive on the topic, just to get it
out of my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since I’m going to be
using Mr. Scalzi’s concept, and referencing his initial examples, I’d like you
to <a href="http://whatever.scalzi.com/2011/12/11/the-flying-snowman/"><span style="color: blue;">go read
his post</span></a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll be here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’ll only take a couple of minutes.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
Done?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Excellent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Isn’t he an eloquent and frank writer?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yeah, I think so too.<br />
<br /><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
So
other than the picture book example, Scalzi mostly talks about the molten lava
of <st1:place><st1:placetype>Mount</st1:placetype> <st1:placename>Doom</st1:placename></st1:place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, I’m no geologist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The physics of lava are rightfully beyond
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I have read the Lord of the
Rings Trilogy, and in the text of the first book Gandalf (whose name doesn’t
trigger my spellcheck, which is a point for Word I guess) goes to great pains
to explain to Frodo that only the fire from the cracks of <st1:place><st1:placetype>Mount</st1:placetype>
<st1:placename>Doom</st1:placename></st1:place> would be hot enough to destroy
the One Ring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So in my head, and using
Scalzi’s guiding principle of <em>“…<span lang="EN" style="color: #141412; mso-ansi-language: EN;">if you’re going to complain about one specific element as
being unrealistic, you should consider the work in its totality and ask whether
in the context of the work, this specific thing is </span><span lang="EN" style="color: #141412; mso-ansi-language: EN;">inconsistent</span><span lang="EN" style="color: #141412; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> with the worldbuilding"</span></em><span lang="EN" style="color: #141412; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> then, this isn’t even
inconsistent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mount Doom is a special
mountain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It certainly follows then that
its lava wouldn’t be garden variety either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So I’m not going to sweat Gollum’s liquefying descent to his death, if
you’ll pardon the pun.</span><br />
<span style="color: #141412;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #141412; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><span lang="EN" style="color: #141412; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Scalzi’s
Hulk tweet posits how Bruce Banner’s teeth get larger when he hulks out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, I know a whole bunch more about The
Hulk than I do about lava.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So while I’ve
never sold a story to Marvel Comics, or earned a No Prize for explaining a
factual or continuity error in their books, I feel like I’m on firmer jade
footing here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So using Scalzi’s guiding
principle I’ll go into it a bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is
my uber-nerdery, so excuse the pedantry, if you please.</span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #141412; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="color: #141412; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> Bruce
Banner was caught in a gamma bomb explosion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His miraculous non-atomization had a strange side effect: he periodically
turns into the Hulk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone who’s seen
three of the many Marvel movies (or their 80ish TV series equivalent) knows
this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What most people who aren’t
several nerd orders above that don’t know is that there are not only multiple
Hulks that Banner has changed into over the years, but multiple triggers for
that transformation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Initially, he
became the Hulk only at night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was
also grey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But printing a grey hero
using 1960’s printing methods proved inconsistent and so he became the green
goliath most people know and love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
Banner/Hulk stress trigger came later also, and has stuck around despite lots
of advances in modern psychotherapy since his origin.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #141412; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #141412; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
multiple Hulk thing is perhaps the most interesting part of this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Banner can become the dumb Hulk most
know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the comics, he has also become
a grey version called Mr. FixIt who worked in Vegas and wore sharp suits (when
he wasn’t wrecking buildings).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the
nineties, the Hulk and Banner personas and forms merged to result in an integrated
Hulk who was giant, green, yet of classical human proportions (something neither previous Hulk had been) and
kept the Hulk’s superhuman strength and durability while preserving Banner’s
intellect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For a really brief time, the
two bodies swapped personas, resulting in a calm green goliath and an enraged
90 pound weakling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The force that
spurred these changes?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Psychotherapy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, Banner’s state
of mind has some control over the Hulk’s final form.</span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #141412; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #141412; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Why do
the Hulk’s teeth stay proportionate, despite his other limbs changing their mass
and proportions?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think the answer is
simple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Deep down, Banner has the same
survival drives as non-powered folk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He flees from physical attack, or fights back if cornered, for
example.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the earliest
evolutionary drives in the animal kingdom is hunger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whether it’s the herbivore’s need for a large
field to graze or the carnivore’s lust for game, an empty belly is an
incredibly strong motivator.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somewhere in
his mind, Bruce must know that if he’s the Hulk for any extended length of time,
he’s going to get peckish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And to
satisfy that need, his teeth need to fit his giant jade/grey jaws.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And so his subconscious mind makes sure his
teeth continue to fit his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just
tell his shrink Doc Samson he’s got an oral fixation.</span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #141412; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b><span lang="EN" style="color: #141412; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Miscellany:</span></b></div>
<br />
<br />
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li style="color: #141412; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;">This is my
first post in a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a very
busy summer that included the birth of two nieces and two nephews, a phone
that mysteriously reset itself to factory defaults, and a laptop that
finally fried itself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></li>
<li style="color: #141412; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;">This post
has been in the works for most of a month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m sorry if the tweet it references has lost its tread in the
social media consciousness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These
posts happen when they can.</span></li>
<li style="color: #141412; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;">This post
was written using my new laptop, with my Pandora account restored.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It booted with the Chet Baker station
online (alphabetical listing) which I swapped to the Zevon and Neil Young
stations respectively.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My new
laptop’s speakers kind of suck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
headphones fix that problem.</span></li>
<li style="color: #141412; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;">Once
again, comments are appreciated and encouraged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My twitter handle is @TheSagest, my
email is <a href="mailto:thesagest77@gmail.com"><span style="color: blue;">thesagest77@gmail.com</span></a>.</span></li>
<li style="color: #141412; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;">I don’t
think I have a snowman obsession, but <a href="http://thesagestwritings.blogspot.com/2014/01/blizzard-friendly-post.html"><span style="color: blue;">this
story</span></a> makes me look like a liar.</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></div>
<br /></div>
Kevin S. Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02279586264363970630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193239363538564284.post-10564855451056474572014-06-27T11:31:00.000-04:002014-06-27T11:31:34.984-04:00One of the Missing: Curious Liquids Café<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I live in a suburb of <st1:place><st1:city>Boston</st1:city>,
<st1:state>Massachusetts</st1:state></st1:place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have lived in this area, minus a short
stint in upstate NY, my entire life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
have seen a lot change in thirty plus years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Most of the changes are grand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Our museums got bigger and better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We lost our ugly over street highway in favor of a tunnel system and
more parks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even <st1:place><st1:placename>Fenway</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype>Park</st1:placetype></st1:place> has made steps towards
modernization.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, sometimes, I
realize I miss some feature of the city that’s long been gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When that happens, and I remember to write it
up, you’ll get a story about it under this heading.*<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In
the shadow of the Statehouse, there’s an odd building, on the corner of Park
and Beacon Streets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the home of a
local news team’s morning show now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the
late nineties, it was an awesome independent coffee shop called the Curious
Liquids Café.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was my haven for
years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had everything a young
would-be writer could want: great espresso and drip drinks, quirky décor,
sympathetic and agreeable wait staff, the occasional live show, and a basement
seating level that made you forget where you were and where the city mutually
forgot about you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If ever there was a
perfect place to scribble in a college ruled composition notebook, this was
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
wrote my first in your face piece of writing there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its effectiveness surprised even me
then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every once in a while, I read that
letter again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The words practically melt
off the page.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The achievement wasn’t a
technical one, but one of spiritual distillation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took a huge hurt from my heart, threw a net
over it, captured it in type, and delivered it to the person responsible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the kind of thing only a young
self-involved moron would try.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think
not knowing I knew nothing made success possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know any mature adult who would be
that comfortable confronting either their hurt or those responsible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Either people learn more ways to cope as they
grow, or are just affected less by the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That’s a puzzle for another time.</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
miss the CLC because writing felt exciting and easy there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was as if the very walls whispered ideas
and encouragement into my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had no
concept of quit or failure there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Everyone was young, trying their best, and foolishly optimistic about
their secure futures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And there seemed
plenty of time to try whatever it was you wanted to try.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Time flows differently now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s a clock to punch, and obligations to
meet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I forget to relax and just try to
put words on a page far too often.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Somehow I think I would write more if the CLC or places like it were
closer than my backwards looking heart.</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span id="goog_557963327"></span><span id="goog_557963328"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">* Yes, I know that phrase is cribbed from one of the
interludes in Stephen King’s <u>IT</u>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s one of my favorite works of his.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><strong>Miscellany</strong></span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">So this is my first post since March. I apologize to either of my readers for the long delay. Getting married and then redefining what normal life is after that took more time than I thought.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">This post was written using my Warren Zevon station on Pandora, I used my Moto X phone to listen to it. It gets by that awful vibrating laptop sensation I can't stand when I type.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Readers are welcome to comment by e-mail or twitter. My twitter handle is @TheSagest and my writer e-mail is <a href="mailto:thesagest77@gmail.com">thesagest77@gmail.com</a>. If you want more posts like this, holler back.</span></li>
</ul>
</div>
Kevin S. Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02279586264363970630noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193239363538564284.post-66421844792507768832014-03-01T11:24:00.000-05:002014-03-01T11:33:42.720-05:00Secrets of the World I've Seen<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
are a million nooks and crannies in the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are caves and alleyways, cubbies and caverns, causeways and <st1:city><st1:place>cairns</st1:place></st1:city>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People see the same sights every day, and
become inured to them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But some of us
pay attention, some of the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we
learn things about where we live and what’s around.</div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
first place I ever lived that wasn’t away at school was a tiny apartment in a
huge concrete complex.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rent was too
high, and nothing that I needed was in walking distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was also plenty of crime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I literally walked through a drug deal on my
way home one August night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(It turned
out better than you’d think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oddly
enough, being 6’3” and the only white person for a six block radius has
occasional advantages.)</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
there were trees there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And as a man who
lived within fifteen yards of the ocean his whole life, it was an amazing
change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The wind, filtered through a
half a dozen trees a story or two below your bedroom window, brings peace and
freedom with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were weeks I
hated living in that place, and many things went wrong in my life while I was
there, but I can still hear that somnolent sound in my dreams some nights.</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When
I moved to a suburb overrun with students, I lost that peace and quiet, but
gained access to anything I’d ever been curious about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were more coffee shops and ethnic
restaurants in a ten minute walk from my door than made any sense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a used fantasy bookstore down the
street that was so crowded with wares I could barely walk down the aisles. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And there were about a billion places to get a
beer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was tough to feel tired or old
in a place like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No matter how
awful my work schedule was or how empty my wallet, there was cheap youthful fun
close by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The energy of the neighborhood
made up for the periodic rashes of street vomit every fall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still go to a few of <a href="http://www.esperiagrill.com/" target="_blank">those restaurants</a>, and
lament a few that closed before they got traction.</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Last
year, I lived in a small converted office building.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were twelve units on three floors, and
the renovation was as cheap as my rent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was no individual unit heat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The baseboards and walls were ugly and uneven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the kitchen was maybe three feet
square.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was cramped. My unit faced the
back of the house, so I had no view of the street.</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What
I did have was a back door that opened onto a tiny deck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a portal to the street behind mine,
which was dull and uninteresting the first eight months I lived there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then, the house behind mine decided to redo
their rear façade and add a large deck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
did it themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the father/tot
team took their time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The house had no
rear siding for months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But every so
often, I’d poke my head out and either watch them work, or see what had changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a surreptitious show and
I had the only unofficial ticket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
a slow moving miracle, and I was just a little sad when the work was over.</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It’s
a big crazy world out there readers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Keep your eyes open.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You might
just spy something special.</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Miscellany</span></div>
<ul>
<li><div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;">This post was inspired by my move to a new apartment in advance of my wedding in May. I'm going to bang around the new place alone until after the big day. It's not fun. But it has helped me reflect on how I've had it elsewhere.</span></div>
</li>
<li><div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
As always, I welcome comments here, on my twitter @TheSagest, my tumblr <a href="http://kevinsmahoney77.tumblr.com/">http://kevinsmahoney77.tumblr.com/</a> or directly at <a href="mailto:thesagest77@gmail.com">thesagest77@gmail.com</a>. I'm here to share my thoughts and my writing. Drop me a line if you'd like.</div>
</li>
</ul>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"></span></li>
</ul>
</div>
Kevin S. Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02279586264363970630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193239363538564284.post-36876411441999271522014-01-06T16:11:00.001-05:002014-01-06T16:11:28.963-05:00Blizzard Friendly Post
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
The <st1:place>Lake</st1:place>
of Dissolved Effigies</div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
By
Kevin S. Mahoney</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
was one of those things no one thought about, like the lint under the
refrigerator, or who cut their barber’s hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thousands were made, every year, in any location that would support the
art form.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Generation schooled generation
on the process, families united in cold purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every form was unique.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each artifact was personalized, sculpted by
its creators from their environment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Each building block was unlike every other one, from the macroscopic to
the microscopic level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Molecules were
connected, melding from the warmth of the people, changing according to their
whims, each form distinct and temporary.<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Those
billions of connections of simple molecules, combined with the energy and
purpose of so many over many years, had a cumulative effect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The structures began to interact slowly, over
the long term, with each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
weren’t alive, or awake, simply barely aware.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But that awareness was parceled out over thousands of miles, hundreds of
artifacts each year, piling upon itself for decades.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was no intelligence, but there began a
funneling, a gathering, a stockpiling of similar parts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like ants in a line, or birds flying in
formation, like called to like and they began to gather, despite all known
physical laws.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
Earth helped, inadvertently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
individual bodies that began to coalesce couldn’t do it when in solid
form.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But as the solstice surged towards
the equinox, solids became liquids, and liquids took flight as vapor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Clouds were their carriers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rain was their call to action.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The united army of a colder time began to
mobilize as one fluid, their base of operations an unpolluted lake in a small
tourist town.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lake was not centrally
located.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The campground around it never
made any glossy magazine’s top 10 list.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was large enough for small boats, and small enough to hike all the
way around between breakfast and dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But as time passed, and the army of winter soldiers began to compose
more and more of it, the people who visited noticed something unusual.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seemed too cold for some, but others
always found it warm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The temperature of
the water was studied, and no deviation from the surrounding bodies of water
was found.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
if you had never played in the snow, never sledded down a hill, never shivered
with thoughts of hot chocolate steaming up from your winter hat, never built
one of their kind, the lake was always cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If the part of the lake that had awoken recognized you, it held you in
its velvet soft grasp, and returned the warmth and love you gave them, possibly
years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a gift as silent as
its givers, the warmth of the snowmen returned to their creators, in the hope
that once winter fell once more the cycle could continue, and the joy and art
would spread.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 200%;">Miscellany:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .75in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->This tale (if you can call it that) was inspired
by a lot of odd snowmen stories circling my mind lately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The evil monsters from last Christmas’s
Doctor Who were in there somewhere, as was Frosty, of course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought of phase changes as a transition,
subject of the latest vlog of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wh6o89nv6aA&list=PLUXRtYLIAoiIsYXnnf2qPdSbAcLbMcuhV&index=16"><span style="color: blue;">Nika
Harper</span></a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So this is sort of my entry
for that edition of <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Wordplay</b>.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .75in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->I listened to one track (over and over) from the
new Neil and Amanda 3 pack of CD’s while writing this, <a href="http://kevinsmahoney77.tumblr.com/post/72178799757/so-i-won-the-neil-gaiman-and-amanda-palmer-3-pack"><span style="color: blue;">Ukulele
Anthem</span></a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t really think this
piece was going anywhere but that song prevents discouragement for some reason.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .75in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Oh yeah, I have a <a href="http://kevinsmahoney77.tumblr.com/"><span style="color: blue;">Tumblr</span></a> now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I may end up just cross posting everything,
and then again I may not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Watch my
twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/TheSagest"><span style="color: blue;">@TheSagest</span></a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure I’ll mention all new postings there
anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .75in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Finally (and once again) I’m kind of sick of
getting no comments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somebody out there
has something to say, I bet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Use the
various links on the various pages, or write me at <a href="mailto:thesagest77@gmail.com"><span style="color: blue;">thesagest77@gmail.com</span></a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have faith in you!<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Kevin S. Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02279586264363970630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193239363538564284.post-42871184605603207972013-12-29T17:00:00.000-05:002014-01-02T22:48:37.091-05:00Merry Dishmas!!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"> It’s been a stressful holiday season for me internet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shopping/wrapping/shipping cycle was
finished about half an hour before the first Christmas Eve party.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In between all the usual time demands, my
fiancée and I looked for a new apartment, my sister visited with her kids, both
of my parents got the flu (not at the same time) and I forfeited a ton of sleep
and time to myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One of the odd
consequences of that last thing?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
dishes piled up a couple of times in my sink last week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is really unusual for a few
reasons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One, my kitchen is super tiny,
so other than coffee and cereal, I rarely cook or eat at home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Second, I usually wash my dishes the minute
I’m through with them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It takes just a
couple of minutes to wash one bowl, cup, and spoon and I like my kitchen a
certain way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But running to different
stores, the post office, and a couple of apartment buildings in the same day,
makes certain chores take a back seat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So twice this
week I had twenty minutes of washing up to do, and while I was doing it, I
realized I missed it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I used to live in
a giant Victorian house in </span><st1:place><span style="line-height: 200%;">Brighton</span></st1:place><span style="line-height: 200%;"> with four other people, all on different schedules, all less
likely to do dishes than me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So to make
morning coffee (or to just be able to find the space to clean the coffee pot) I
routinely did thirty minutes of other people’s washing up every morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It bothered me only occasionally (finding a
prized glass crushed under the melee of dishes that could have been stacked and
stabilized with a moment’s thought will do that) but it was a great mental
cleanser.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every morning I would be up
before everyone else, and spend half an hour mining order out of their
chaos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And every morning I would feel a
small calm glow of accomplishment from it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I hadn’t had that buzz or the quiet it stemmed from, in a long time,
maybe close to a year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So I guess
that tiny hidden bit of joy is something I’d like to relate and possibly pass
on to you, oh three readers of this blog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Now that the holiday season is finally waning, ask yourself what fun
productive thing you haven’t done in a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The moment obligation doesn’t intrude, go do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me know if you find the same neglected
joy I found.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Call that joy my gift to
you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Merry Dishmas, internet, and have a
happier New Year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Miscellany:</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><br /></div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 200%;">As
always, I welcome comments to this post or others on this blog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can comment here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you enjoy tweeting, I’m <a href="https://twitter.com/TheSagest"><span style="color: blue;">@TheSagest there</span></a>, or if you’re old
fashioned, you can mail me at <a href="mailto:TheSagest77@gmail.com"><span style="color: blue;">TheSagest77@gmail.com</span></a>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 200%;">For
those of you paying attention (all one of you): no I didn’t work on the book
this month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not that I didn’t have
any time at all, although it feels that way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m just prioritizing family, future living conditions, and not
collapsing over what is essentially a vanity project.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s probably the right thing to do.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 200%;">This
post was mulled over the last week, and it was quicker to compose than the
others here so far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did use my Neil Young
station on Pandora to make the writing easier.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
Kevin S. Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02279586264363970630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193239363538564284.post-60905672541108523522013-11-30T14:17:00.000-05:002013-11-30T14:17:19.664-05:00Letter to Enter the HaggisHey readers (all three of you), <br />
One of my favorite bands is doing a concept album, songs inspired by stories of fans. To be considered you have to write them a letter and send it in through the actual post. I've got a bunch of stories. I've started with the best one. This post is just a cut & paste of the letter, more or less. Read and enjoy it, if you can.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
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Greetings Men of the Haggis,</div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
read and backed your upcoming album on Pledge Music, just as I did your Modest
Revolution on Kickstarter earlier in 2013.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I guess you could say I’m a fan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I read about the concept for this album, I was intrigued.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some people live nice successful lives with
few headaches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wonder what that’s like
sometimes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I live a strange and varied
existence, which results in lots of ups and downs, and many great stories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I figured I’d share one with you (or maybe a
few in separate letters) and maybe inspire something for the next album.</div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
first consciously brave thing I ever did, I did as a senior in high
school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I was brave before then, I
either wasn’t aware of it, or had no choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kids’ lives, and even teens’ lives, are an odd mixture of doing what
you’re told and what you can get away with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A lot of things happen accidentally, or due to the designs of
others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think behavior of merit
that happens that way, because it was either chance or someone else’s idea.</div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
a senior in high school, your nerd narrator had a full course load plus two
classes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The class that this story takes
place is AP History, the kind of class that is more intense than normal, and
might be turned into college credits if you make the proper grade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a strenuous class for high
school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had a research project every
quarter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We read multiple books in
addition to the text.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The exams were
hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The teacher was a pompous ass.</div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I’ve
met and studied under a lot of teachers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Most of them genuinely care about the students or the material,
sometimes both.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some are burn-outs who
just sort of show up to get paid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some
wish they were doing something else, and it shows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, every once in a while, you run into a
good teacher, who is a terrible person. </div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mr.
M. (because I don’t want you sued, not because I’m afraid to name names) was a
bully and, I’m pretty sure, a closet drunk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was loud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could be
insulting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He played favorites in class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But normally the outbursts were short, and
the insults were just clichéd enough to be forgotten once class ended.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A couple of people were shaken up by this
jerk in the early months of the year, but learned to fly under the radar in
short order.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of them sat next to me
in class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We hated Mr. M. together,
because we were there to learn, and he made it harder by making us feel
small.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My best friend (let’s call her
Kay, not her real name) was also in that class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kay was smart and polite enough to never be the object of ridicule, and
so wasn’t toughened up in the early going like some of us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then, one day, after months of great work
and near perfect attendance, she forgot her notebook before going to class.</div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mister
M. was enraged by this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His face went scarlet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His voice rose, far beyond shouting and into
some sort of decibel warfare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He accused
Kay of some pretty awful things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if
it had just been an outburst, a sentence or two, I think she would have
coped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But he kept going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I watched my best friend get closer and
closer to tears as one minute of abuse became two, and almost three.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember being hot, and uncomfortable, and
angry at first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember literally thinking<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">, he’ll stop in a second, and it’ll be over</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he didn’t stop, but instead began to get
coarser and impossibly louder, I thought, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">surely
someone will step in soon</i>, but then I looked around and realized no one
was.</div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What
happened next was my first brave thing, and I remember precious little of
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I popped out of my chair. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was one of those one piece desk things,
with the table bolted to the chair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
had been unconsciously heaving the top away from me as I got angrier and more
uncomfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I rose to intervene,
the arm of the desk snapped back into place as I released it, and the desk
tottered before it steadied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember
pointing at Mr. M.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember shouting
back, but I don’t remember any of the words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The gist of it was, either he would shut his mouth and leave
voluntarily, or I would shut it for him and drag him out of class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Later, other classmates told me I had
threatened to kill him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t remember
that part, but if they say it happened, I believe it.</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Obviously,
I hadn’t thought it through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could
have been suspended, or he could have fought me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I might have won, I was a little taller and
thirty years younger, while he was bigger and stronger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t care about the consequences to me,
which was the main thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was coming
to a rescue, and succeeded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing else
mattered.</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
remember everything after that with reasonable clarity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I saw his rage sweep from her to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was absolutely ready for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I said whatever it was, he stormed out
of the class intent on telling the principal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>About a minute after he’d left, I worked out that he couldn’t do that
without revealing his part in things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kay was shaken, but safe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat
back down, my heartbeat slowing back to its normal tempo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The room was eerily silent until the bell
rang ten minutes later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had class the
next day, a strained facsimile of normal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That Friday, I was the last person to leave class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know if I was still being protective or
just had more things to gather together that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The asshat apologized to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I called him stupid to his face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said Kay was the one who needed the
apology, not me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The look on his face
told me he hadn’t even thought of that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There really are some terrible people out there.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-tab-count: 6;"> </span>That’s
my story, and it happened just that way,</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kevin S.
Mahoney</div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>@TheSagest on Twitter</div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><a href="mailto:thesagest77@gmail.com">thesagest77@gmail.com</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Yes, you can throw me a comment either here, on twitter, or the e-mail I listed. I enjoy hearing people talk about my writing.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">No, I'm not tweeting @enterthehaggis a link to this. My letter will go in the mail Monday instead. That doesn't mean you can't do it for me, oh anonymous internet person.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Yes, I know I kinda blew off finishing my novel this month. I apologize to the universe for neglecting both it and this blog.</span></li>
</ul>
Kevin S. Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02279586264363970630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193239363538564284.post-50288074470469223482013-11-01T02:22:00.000-04:002013-11-01T02:22:08.091-04:00All Hallow's Read Entry: The Last Minutes' Meeting
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<span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 200%;">The Last Minutes’ Meeting<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 200%;">By Kevin S. Mahoney<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> <span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: small;">The where
wasn’t important.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They all met in a
room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It could have been an unused
classroom, a church basement, or a rehearsal space.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were chairs, a podium, and a
microphone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Four walls, a ceiling, a floor-
there was even a way out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Were there
windows?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There seemed to be, but they
didn’t open, and staring into them revealed nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was always black outside, no light or sign
of movement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was just where they
were.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The people at
each meeting varied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were lots of
teenagers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were some adults.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Occasionally, a small child joined them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those were the hardest to deal with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one knew what to tell little Billy or Jill
when they came to their first meeting, any more than they knew what to tell
each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were here, until they
weren’t, and so they talked amongst themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And every meeting started the same way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hello,” the
slight woman would begin, “my name is Pamela.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was murdered, just like all of you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was beheaded by a machete.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do
we have any new people here tonight?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No
one knew why she started every meeting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It felt like something she had been doing for years, but of course no
one could remember how long they’d been where they were.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it was something about her; she seemed
prissy yet caring, the kind of wife and mother who would shriek top volume at
you to take your muddy shoes off <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">before</b>
you came inside, then hug you tightly as she served dinner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Silence
inevitably followed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first timers
didn’t like hearing it stated so baldly like that, and had to take stock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The regulars were glancing around, spotting
the new meat, always hoping to find a regular missing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People did go from that place, but how and
when were as big a mystery as where they all were and why they were there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The new meat
would speak then, each in their turn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Many never saw it coming, whatever it was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One minute they were in the attic, then a brief
moment of blackness, then here they were.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Some remembered what they were doing when their time was up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You could always tell the teenagers who were
indisposed at their critical moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They appeared in pairs, and most had the newfound decency to blush,
before taking their turn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A small
percentage of people had stories to tell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They were the ones who had tried and failed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How or who they failed varied widely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some died in battle against impossible
monsters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some tried to run, but were
caught.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many fell down the stairs to
their doom, high heels splintered in their rush to flee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was depressing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one came to the meeting a victor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a way, they were comparing different
flavors of mortal misery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yet, between
themselves they learned things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
were commonalities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Certain places and
times recurred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lots of people were
doing similar distracting things when their lives were stolen from them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one seemed to have brought their drugs or
booze along with them, but if given the chance, no one who went to one of those
meetings would ever bother with either again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sex and death as two sides to the same coin were discussed over and
over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">were</i> a lot of teens there; sex would have been a major interest in
any case.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The most
interesting person there was </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="line-height: 200%;">Nancy</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="line-height: 200%;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="line-height: 200%;">Nancy</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="line-height: 200%;"> swore up and down she knew what had happened to her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her father had stabbed her in the
abdomen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But to hear her tell it, it
wasn’t her father at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a
monster, in a dream.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She claimed to have
beaten the monster years before, but he had returned, had killed again, and had
gotten her at last.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It sounded
like wish fulfillment, or a crazy conspiracy theory, but parts of it checked
out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of the new meat that arrived
after </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="line-height: 200%;">Nancy</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="line-height: 200%;"> swore they knew him, that he had killed them too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="line-height: 200%;">Nancy</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="line-height: 200%;"> swore she had mortally wounded the
guy when she died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was confusing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Lots of things
got jumbled up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You wouldn’t believe how
many of us were killed by a big man in a mask.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Some swore he had a kitchen knife, others were sure his blade was bigger
than that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mask was different too,
according to who told what story. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some
swore it looked like that old Bruin, Cheevers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Others were sure it was something floppier, like Nixon without the big
nose and all white, with eyes like empty fishbowls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Either way, no one could stop him or escape.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Escape is what
it always came down to in the end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once
the new members were talked out, it was always the same debate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why were we here?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What was keeping us?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surely no higher power would delay us,
seemingly indefinitely, forming a company united in suffering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There had to be a way out for all of us, not
just the odd soul slipping away between meetings, like a bill sliding behind
the stove to be forgotten.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jeff and
Sandra (died in the middle of “the act”, impaled by the same spear) finally
figured it out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were arguing when
the revelation came.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of the couples
continued their relationships, as well as could be managed, death doing the
parting and all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It can’t be
the sex,” she said, “if that were all it was, every teenager in creation would
be here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“How many of
them were killed in the middle of it?” he asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It can’t be many.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No,” she
countered, “but lots of the other teens here weren’t having sex. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>None of the adults were when <strong>they</strong> died. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And they’re here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we’re from different places, snuffed
different ways, yet we’re all just as trapped.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’d snuff
you, he said, “If it meant some peace and quiet, let alone an end to these
meetings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s horrible, going over the
last minutes of each other’s lives.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A
thunderstruck silence fell at that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Most were shamed by the idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
last thing most people remembered was their murder, or the events that led up
to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sandra’s eyes gleamed, full of an
unhealthy realization.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“None of
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>None of them are here.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She drove the
front leg of her chair through Jeff’s face before anyone could move to stop
her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a wet thud as he went
down, like someone had dropped a glazed ham onto the linoleum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the furor subsided, we noticed Sandra
was truly gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her solution occurred to
the smarter ones amongst us with sickening speed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The members of the Last Minutes turned on one
another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The successful aggressors
vanished as the bodies piled up in the anonymous room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a room for victims.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had no room to spare for monsters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="line-height: 200%;">Battle</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="line-height: 200%;"> is chaos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps there were an odd number of people at
our last get together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I may have simply
been overlooked somehow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the blood fog
cleared, I was unharmed and alone, with no one to kill- no way out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But my chair is at the ready.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone will come, sooner or later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 200%;">THE END</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">Miscellany:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;">This story was the union of a few ideas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The odd unconventional slant on familiar
tropes (horror movie victims) was influenced by Penn Jillette’s new project <a href="https://fundanything.com/penn?locale=en" target="_blank">Bad Penn</a> and a few of the stories in Nika Harper’s new book, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Echoes-of-Old-Souls-ebook/dp/B00BECXLQS/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1383286081&sr=1-1&keywords=echoes+of+old+souls" target="_blank">Echoes of Old Souls</a></b>. Interested readers can still fund the movie and buy the book, respectively.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="line-height: 200%;">The fuel for this story, my second in less than twenty-four
hours, was Guatemala Antigua from The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My girl got me this stuff, and it kicks so
much caffeinated ass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="line-height: 200%;">The music used to keep your humble author clicking happily
away was his Cranberries station on Pandora.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You may be able to listen in <a href="http://sg.pandora.com/wf/click?upn=MBt-2BZOsK1q8G3PeYUymlCDsDYOIP-2BgMtwJQuao5UH7W3XNaqAZcWQbrl0lfJrSt-2FJ0w9StT3zOHosN-2B7d1-2Fyr9DGEwF89AF2-2Fpi115phlQc-3D_NotLNRvRQ7ALQTumM9xA4-2BgpgCdxyf3I1EBYVPef01idFUtPfp3oWhB3LASfZhCrfp2razU9BdD5bK7hVG2GYp-2Fu19-2BB20lV6dvNURx4f6xYCYviiFhGvW7WyyU290TdSPo095tjZSPVMWjy4xi3sFoeMknfWTax6ogyOjvCDY6fBSrocDMeVX-2F8DOE4iWjROem9-2FD-2BGKfn8HOB9C-2Bmw1RdJF4yYs2YNYFFYgkVRsiGobL-2F0FYnm6EQafZ6xk1DK" target="_blank">here</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="line-height: 200%;">Technically, I published this about two hours late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know the calendar says it’s November at </span><st1:time hour="0" minute="0"><span style="line-height: 200%;">midnight</span></st1:time><span style="line-height: 200%;">, but that depends on both the time
zone of the reader and the appropriate definition of the word evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sun ain’t up yet!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: small;">Feel free to comment folks, but don’t sweat my lack of
computer savvy yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m still learning
the Blogger interface.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
Kevin S. Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02279586264363970630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193239363538564284.post-84255180652613400392013-10-31T13:28:00.000-04:002013-10-31T13:28:03.257-04:00Zero Note, with Rockets and Chicken PoxGreetings internet!<br />
<br />
I have had the itch to write recently after doing a bit of work for Boston's Weekly Dig, <a href="http://digboston.com/boston-sex/2013/09/peer-review-sex-nerd-sandra-live-podcast-middle-east-upstairs/">here</a> and <a href="http://digboston.com/boston-sex/2013/09/defend-yourself-sandra-daugherty-aka-sex-nerd-sandra/">here.</a> I needed a platform to post things on my own, and as much as my computer likes looking at tumblr, it won't let me post to it there, no matter how many times I hit my browser and/or laptop with a hammer. So I will be posting here and crosslinking it with my happy fun twitter feed @TheSagest. Posts here will be mentioned there. So if you're a fan of me in short form, maybe I can earn your attention in the long form.<br />
<br />
For those of you curious as to where this is going, I have an idea for an #AllHallowsRead story that I hope to put up before 11/1/13, then maybe I'll blog about my attempts to finish a long dormant mystery novel during #NaNoWriMo. I might post old chapters, talk about my struggles with where I left it, and let you the world know how the new struggle goes. Interspersed with that, could be any sort of update I feel might be fun to read, from reactions to TV and movies, to chili recipes, to thoughts on things that need to come out. So like they used to say in the papers, watch this space!<br />
<br />
I remember the first time I couldn't write something. I was either in kindergarten or first grade. It was late winter/early spring. I managed to get the chicken pox either right before or just after spring vacation. So I missed a week of school on top of a week off of school. When I came back (finally) scarred and not so itchy, there were all these new papers on the wall.<br />
<br />
The work in question was pretty typical for our age group. There was a generic space scene taking up maybe two thirds of the page, with lines for a descriptive sentence or two to one side. I remember a rocket ship, with portholes and fins, a cratered surface. I don't think there was an alien, but I bet there was a shooting star <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v3rhQc666Sg">(The More You Know tm)</a>. T he kids who weren't an itchy fevered mess that week got to color in the scene, and then describe what happened... <em>in their own words. </em>And I missed out. <br />
<br />
I remember gawking at the work on the wall and feeling angry and cheated. Somehow there was a school assignment that I thought would be fun (except the coloring part- adult Kevin hates the very notion of coloring something in to be critiqued, motor skill improvement be damned. Kid Kevin thought it was a worse chore than penmanship.) and there was nothing I could do about it. Of course adult me realizes that if I'd bothered to ask my teacher (Mrs. Lincoff or Mrs. Bouton) if I could participate, another blank copy would have been mimeoed, and all would have been well. But there was something very intimidating about seeing all my classmates completed work already on the wall. It felt like there was a contest and I'd missed the entry deadline. So I read the work of the other kids, and suffered in silence. I have thought about that wall, and the opportunity I missed, for going on thirty years. This blog is an attempt to prevent that from ever happening again. <br />
<br />
I have stories to tell. I have things to share. Now we both know where to find them.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Miscellany:</span> <br />
<br />
This blog post was written while listening to my Warren Zevon station on Pandora. In theory, you can listen in <a href="http://www.pandora.com/station/11427744080030656">here.</a><br />
<br />
The photo I'm using for the moment was taken this summer at an event celebrating the return of the Twinkie. Yes, I look like a huge dork in it. I don't mind looking like a huge dork for free Twinkies.<br />
<br />
The coffee that fueled this post (and the whole blog subscription process) was Charleston Coffee Roasters's Signature Blend.<br />
<br />
If you read this far, and leave a comment, please <strong>don't </strong>comment about how you got tumblr to work on your PC. This blog is my workaround. <br />
<br />
Kevin S. Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02279586264363970630noreply@blogger.com0