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The Hogs of Entropy 0257
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$$$$$$$$$$$ hogz of entropy #257
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>> "Serious Art A La T.S. Eliot" <<
by -> Zaff & Soybean
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ONCE UPON A TIME (GOOD START), in the land pre-malls and pre-ska and pre-gap
and pre-suburbs (i try, and i have no idea where this is going) (it will be
lovely, go on) there was a rather sizable community of strongly opinionated,
revolution-instigating plastic animals.
[HAHHAAH KATIE!@! (can i help?)] [HAHAHAH I AM SO SILLY (please do!)]
(nononoonon that was WEIRD!@!) (ooooh why WEIRD?) (in that i was just
looking at godel and kissinger hoping they could be in the story.)
(PSYCHIC NEXUS) (YES!@!) (HELP@!) (oh, yes, errr....)
the animals lived in self-sufficient communes, and supported themselves
bartering grain products with a nearby community of bush babies. the animals
were growing increasingly odd looking and finding their children increasibly
deformed and diseased, as they had been living in this communal manner for
many generations now and interbreeding ran rampant. they would trade
couscous for marble contact paper in an ever-increasing cycle of pleasant but
futile activity.
(tee hee. ron, let's make this a really bad neti, neti piece. it
would fill the quota.)
yes but sometimes the in-breeding produced truly fine specimens, who governed
over the others.
(YES!@! i was about to suggest that katie!@! let's include comments
such as that, too. :) differently pucntuated of course so as to not
make me look so silly.)
two such specimens come to mind. despite the generic appearance of the
majority of the population.
(yes, let's keep the silliness to a BARE MINIMUM :) )
(hahaha...yes. this is Serious Art a la ts eliot.)
these two truly fine specimens came to the forefront of the political and
socioeconomic platforms of the commune.
(that should be a subtitle for this)
so anyway one of these specimens was a large neon pink monkey with an
enlightened grin affixed to his face. he was pre-ordained by a greater
plastic god to be the finest of mathematicians and logical plastic monkeys.
(we are far too young and clever!@)
(we are!@!)
he was called "godel" because of his blue eyes. he was looked upon with
adoration by the entire population of the commune, save one member: walter,
the usually reasonable plastic walrus. walter the walrus, he was called.
walter was usually reasonable but had a fear of the colour pink, due to
having been attacked in his youth by young foppish ruffians from the couts of
louis quinze.
(oh dear)
the other was a small plastic tiger, a gift from the benevolent goddess
Flying Bread to the beleagured commune. the small plastic tiger, though not
a tiger of physical prowess, was the finest statestiger to ever work in a
controlled socialist commune. he was named kissinger, because when asked
where he was during important meetings, he would always reply "i was kissing
'er" kissinger, dirty whore tiger that he was, had grand political
aspirations.
written on the gate to teh entrance of the commune was "zen makes me poop"
poop being the main fertilizer used in the communal farm. they fed the
earth, and in turn, the earth helped to feed them. but the earth, one day,
grew tired of eating SHIT all the time and said to kissinger "if you do not
feed me something good, such as steak or lox, i will stop feeding you,
asswipe."
kissinger tried to reason with the earth, reminding The Goddess that steak
and lox were hard to come by without Her cooperation. there was a single zen
monk, kissinger's best friend, who was a plastic canary yellow kitten that
would only say "i have become death destroyer of worlds" the kitten was
named spot. the bane of the commune was the plastic dancing coke can, who
incessantly shrieked to the fleeing masses, "THIS IS FUCKING ABSURD!!@ THIS
MONK IS A PLASTIC CANARY YELLOW KITTEN!@!@!" sadly, one day godel ate the
coke can, mistaking it for one of the small human children he usually feasted
upon, and the coke can was neverheard form again. a festive chaos ensued as
the news spread, something like the human Mardi Gras, but with fewer beads
and more fur. but the earth said "oh, you think it is so EASY having fruits
and vegetables spring out of your ass? let's see you try it fur boy" so
kissinger did. he did not poo for weeks at a stretch. instead inserting
more foreign articles INTO his anus. and for awhile all was well, as it
frankly made him even more popular with the ladies.
(NO FARTING IN MY STORY)
the ladies loved to eat the fruits of his anus, which pleasured all parties
immensely. the town hoodlums often labeled his back with signs reading
"ORGANIC PRODUCE," but kissinger reminded himself that it was now considered
smooth to be a traveling produce market and smiled to himself, and had lots
of sex. soon all the commune was inserting plants inot their anuses, to also
be smooth. and the goddess stared down in wide horror from her palace in the
sky. procreation was at an all-time commune high, and the plastic animal
offspring grew increasingly similar in appearance and increasingly diseased
in both mind and body. The Goddess was jealous, as esoteric beings do not
have an anus in which to grow vegetables. some of the beings produced were
not even recognizable anymore, just amorphous hunks of brightly coloured
plastic. and they were grossly diseased. many of them went on to be estate
lawyers. The Goddess realized that to be of any assistance to these offensive
creations, she would need to make a journey to the collective farm. then she
realized how much bitterness such a trip could cause among narrators, and
decided instead to go on a long vacation. "BOO" called the plastic
collective. she went to sri lanka where she remains to this day, basking in
the sun among the purest aryan race in the world. ironic in that the purest
aryans are quite dark of skin, hair, and eyes. a fascinating irony indeed.
one that keeps one of our glorious narrators awake at night. the other
narrator is kept awake by other thoughts than oddly hued aryans. incidentally,
the other narrator also gets a great deal less sleep than the aryan-fixated
narrator. which is reflected in his irritable and prickly moods.
meanwhile, kissinger was slowly going mad. the jalapenos were beginning to
cause rectal irritation and the lilacs he had planted in his mouth were
causing oddd psycho-cheimcal reactions. by now godel had left the colony, to
start an investment bank just down the road. it was pink. yes and plastic.
yes, and amiable. the investment bank was amiable? yes, an amiable bank.
walter the walrus refused to invest with godel. it smiled. fine. it is
an amiable smiling bank. the numerous commune investors demand no less.
in the absence of godel, the clever kissinger was able to gain more and more
political power. generally in the corrupt administrations in charge of food
distribution in the collective.
the people began to leave the commune to obtain good jobs in small satellite
communities *just outside* the communes.
(PINK PLASTIC TREES)
they still relied on the fabulous organic produce and close community they
had matured with. the former commune members still liked to visit communes,
on week ends. the commune night life was better than would be expected of
socialists. and they continued to watch the 4 AM agricultural reports on the
local commune news station. and would usually talk a lot about their old
days in the communes, but slowly began to take up golf and buy cars. as
kissinger made orgies compulsory. kissinger was a dirty, naughty tiger, but
good at his job. kissinger proved that "moral" and "politically powerful"
did not necessarily coincide in an administration. a lesson that has been
learned well by all those who have held office since.
some of their children said "let's play punk music, with horns in it!" they
derived inspiration from the island of fuzzy creatures called "jamaica." the
vibrations were IRIE and plastic. they began to "skank" frequently.
somehow, volvo's were invented. small plastic ones. kissinger accepted a
new mantra, communicated to him by the canary yellow monk: "ska makes me
poop." this caused civil unrest among the young plastic creatures, formerly
of the commune. the young creatures called themselves "the youth irate" and
shrieked into the early hours of the morning.
meanwhile the earth, fed a diet of lobster and shrimp, began to itch to go
off to college and major in business. the wharton administrators were not
sure what to think of such an applicant, and whether dorm space would be
ample to comfortably house this promising young creature. he filed a
discrimination law suit against them which is still pending to this day. the
earth, of course, was still full of shit and lacked the finances to fund a
proper suit. but this did not stop the aclu from filing suit on his behalf.
a happy plastic monkey named pez proudly stood up for the earth and for The
Goddess. pez was immediately decapitated by kissinger's henchman hutchence,
the smiling hopping raspberry. kissinger shrieked LET'S SEE YOUR GODDESS
HELP YOU NOW MOTHERFUCKERS!@! and so they all watched the indian ocean with
wide eyes and intent stares hoping that soon, their Goddess would be rushing
to their assistance. they watched and watched and watched and watched and
watched. but she was having high tea with the aryans. they watched more.
the tamil tigers had been watching intently, as well. and they continued
watching.
(the cuter narrator with the habit of playing with her jeans could
advance the plot or bring us near an end now, if she wanted to.)
and suddenly, with no warning and lack of foreshadowing in the plot lines the
tamil tigers leapt from the shadows and promptly devoured The Goddess's soul.
(wait. we said earlier she was still there, to this day.)
(oh.)
(sillyface.)
(sigh!)
(although she could be there, only soul-less.)
(yes, she is now a large stone carving of some sort. a tourist
attraction.)
(yes, two pieces of flying toast.)
(like in cambodia, i believe. yes.)
and when she died, all the young gobs of plastic began to say "goddess is
dead and no one cares!" an eternal eclipse of the sun, moon, and all other
earthly satellites ensued. kissinger giggled and licked on some minor staff
members.
(didn't you think my goddes is dead line was terribly witty?)
(yes, that was very nice!)
godel continued growing fat off of high risk junk bonds he issued.
(you are far too young and clever! things will never change!)
(no no, you!)
walter the walrus attempted to assault godel, given his new advantage. a
grey walrus blends better into a dark world than a neon pink monkey.
regardless of physical agility. but in the end, walter and godel became fast
friends, though walter continued to lead the youths in emotional
anti-kissinger and godel rallies, just for show. the canary coloured kitten
continued to shriek "i am death destroyer of worlds" and the population of
the formerly-close commune believed the kitten, refusing to heed the rumors
of the death of The Goddess. but nobody cared anymore, as they all had cable
television and swatch watches. the kitten died alone, and so did all of
them. the end.
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* (c) HoE publications. HoE #257 -- written by Zaff & Soybean -- 8/16/98 *
