Rock Accountant

Month: January, 2015

Caterpillars of Memories

FaceBook offers dull, drab, and pointless human beings like me the opportunity to extend the boldly erected fantasies of our youth well into our dotage. I can regurgitate the same sensations that meant so much to me growing up by simply going on YouTube and pulling up music performed in videos exactly as it happened. Life is not temporal; it is permanent. Unless you believe humanity is heading somewhere with a purpose, which is stupid, it is impossible not to conclude that every existence is anything more than one segment in a very long caterpillar of memories. This is why I am a happy person.


Stealing Fruit Loops

Personally, I hope you believe in God. Not just you, everybody. Now mind you, I don’t.
Morality does not  spontaneously spring from inside us. Humans can’t be trusted to do the right thing without divine policing. A sad but unarguable truth.
Any good will our species works with now, has been under development since our first apes whistled. It is to this day a struggle in progress.
Keeping humankind from barbarity has always been a team sport amongst the Gods. However, Gods by their own sour nature, are jealous, and it is certain they get interceded upon by something bigger than they every so often.
People never recognise how many Gods, over thousands of years, it has taken to prevent modern-day fathers from stealing food from their children. Thieving your kid’s Fruit Loops is, of course, no “Rape of the Sabines.”, but it certainly is not a zenith of improvement either. The good news is that a Fruit Loop is less likely to be missed than a Sabine.


Whoopee, We’re All Going To Die!

Nothing is more riveting than the opportunity to die with everyone around you. War remains popular because of it’s morbid, but fuzzy fellowship. Bibles sell Doomsday, and we plan for them like parties.
We all prepared for death last night, believing that God had us pegged as snow cones.
Politicians get away with wars. God never tires of apocalypse, and weathermen escape because it might rain tomorrow.

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Keep Walking

A Native American sends smoke signals in Montana, June 1909.

All civilisations since the beginning of time have been destroyed. To view this with regret simply means you have stopped walking.

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Round Music

Round Music By Regis Boff

Our music was round not square.
The records had grooves like concentric wrinkles on old men’s faces and
only our splayed fingers with open palms could handle them
It was a sound fingerprinted like a crime.
We would blow invisible dust from them and cleaned the needles before we injected them into their starting slot like careful junkies,
nudging these points forward like first stepping children
beginning their ride in the vinyl rivulets to make their first sounds.

Each one came sheathed in album covers that carried messages meant only for us.
We built giant paged books of them and sat them on shelves like libraries from which we would rarely lend.
Old black men were the most precious to own.
Guys had funny names like Dizzy, Jelly Roll, and Satchmo.
None of knew shit about old black men but we knew enough,
To understand it made young white women swoon.


As Long as you Cover Your Eyes

So a guy feels a lump between his eyes.
Over the next days, it starts getting larger and larger.
He grows worried.
He heads over to his doctor, and after a battery of tests, the doctor sits him down in an examination room.
“ Well doc, what do you reckon is going on?” He asks.
The doctor answers, “ I am sorry to have to tell you this, but it seems you are growing a penis in the center of your forehead”.
“It will most likely reach a length of eight to ten inches”, He adds.
The guy is overwhelmed by the news and moans, “How am I ever going to look at myself in a mirror again?”
The doctor pauses and adds encouragingly, “ Nothing to worry about on that account, the balls will probably cover your eyes.”

Overtaken by the Apes

The overt need to be admired by strangers is plain evidence we are being overtaken by the apes.


Philosophical Women

I find it nearly impossible to have a true philosophical conversation with women. They are not interested. They won’t believe this. They confuse being crusted up with aggravations with being profound. They use this to trump  any thinking suspected of being more extensive.


The Blessing of FaceBook

Being loved much is, to the young, the same as being remembered at all to the old. Such is the blessing of FaceBook.

And So Was Gertie

Mr. and Mrs. Stotnum Powder, renown for their rigidly synchronized postures, bumped their noses simultaneously against their curiously misleading living space. They had lived here together, from before memory, with the kind of Manhattan views, architects called pre-war, a term used for any near-permanent structural breath taken before things went bad. The Powders, of course, knew nothing of wars or even bad times. Stotnum and Gertrude could see all of where they lived, all of the time. The window, on which their world sat, showed them just the right amount of the outside, an outside they would never venture into even as entertainment.
Stotnum waved some uneaten food off their dining area and turned to face Gertrude; he bubbled, “ That cat was here all day, staring at me.”
“At us, you mean, don’t you?” Gertie shot back; much annoyed by the exclusion.
“Yes, yes, of course, us,” Stotnum felt confused by his apology, “It’s just that those big damn eyes seem to look right at you no matter where you are. They follow me, us, around like it hates us. Only the eyes move, haven’t you noticed that? It just sits there like we are all he cares about. Doesn’t he have friend cats? He looks like he is clean and well fed. What could he possibly want with us?”
“I know. I know, the poor thing probably has nothing to do all day and just wants company.” Gertrude was always thinking of others.
Why don’t the owners buy him a friend? Stotnum argued
“It must be hard to be alone all the time,” Gertrude offered brushing against Stotnum with her slightly arched back fin suggestively. “ What would you do without me around all day? “
“I never look that thing in the eyes. I am telling you it is sinister. It does not wish us well.”
They heard the splashing above them. Looking up the wave pushed them down hard into their gravel floor. The ceiling was cracking open and splitting apart. The Powders screamed, but a sound never carried far under water, and there was no one else to hear. Stotnum was first to see the cat’s face above them, and then the massive paw. The claws unsheathed. Then as quickly as it came, it was gone again, and so was Gertie.

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