Rock Accountant

Category: Creative Writing

Into The Ground and Beyond

What if every leaf that falls is the tree’s space probe to explore what is the ground?

Columbia 1967 to 1971

I think the protests caught everybody off guard though Columbia College was well ahead of the national curve. The nature of the place was to question everything, learn from the debate, and build skills. It felt abrupt that argumentative and embarrassing exchanges became personal and sometimes violent. It must have felt like a stain to the professors and administration at first. The place has a history of the mind overwhelming violence and is proud of that. Schools had become a haven from Vietnam, and Columbia was no different than the rest. You did not have to die if enrolled. The tearing apart of that shelter took real nerve. We were all very young men ( All male school at the time). We were among the first to act on our conscience. We figured out that something was very wrong. That was no small realization at the time. It was dangerous to resist. Columbia, above all else, was brave. A bridge from our academia to the outside world let something new and savage inside. Clear sides formed. Words could no longer settle anything. Fifty years later, my life still never pauses to be grateful. Discredited are the divinities that demand gratuity. Gone are parents who held my hand for a while. Even my excellent luck is not a thing to tip a hat too. There is only one place I wish I could be again because it was perfect. Columbia College the way I found it in 1967.My class seemed to be trying to tear it apart. In my last two years there, it seemed to collapse entirely. My college disappeared overnight, and I had not enough time or wisdom to regret it. Violence does that.I understand now what a college should aspire to be, memory—where you can find all truth and none. I know that school is still there. — 

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Watching Attractive People have sex

I only want to watch attractive people have sex. As a youth, I was curious about what beautiful gay people did to each other. Once I got a handle however on the structural opportunities they brought to the table, the identical disinterest in unattractive homosexuals repeated itself.My riddle is that I am not attractive myself yet I still demand what I see and sexually touch to be beautiful. All men are this way. Ask them.The Early man simply sniffed out beauty. It was a successful system, and we multiplied notwithstanding our repulsiveness for millennium. All that ended with the advent of perfumes.In the early fifties, all human sexual aromas were drenched by the French liquid, Chanel # 5. This perfume instantly made billions of unpleasant people sexually uninteresting. Men immediately, in their perspicacity, associated beauty strictly with their eyes and only so, from then on.Of course, this was the last thing old Coco Chanel thought she was doing when she came up with her scent. She thought it would level the playing field for hideous people. It did not.

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Getting Even With Women

Blindingly handsome gay men are mankind’s only effective retaliation against women.

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My Future

At my most recklessly honest and envious, I have to accept that my son is my only opportunity to see a future for which I can not last.

Dark words for dark bars

“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” Henry David Thoreau

I dragged this gravely handsome phrase into many dark bars in my twenties. Although a false introspection on my part, it predictably generated a sexual eagerness in most women who equated words, they did not understand, with all the preconditions for the love they had earlier memorized while pouring through romance magazines.

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Women in Dim Bars

Men wage war, watch sports, and pursue a wildly adjustable standard of beauty grounded entirely on availability—our only inherent pities are for unattractive women who involuntarily exhibit desperations that are readily identifiable in dim light.
Some women wail about this while carping pointlessly about the injustices biology has arranged for them.
Men are keenly aware of this gripe but do not care.

It is why my life is so funny.

Everybody’s feelings have little to do with me.
I don’t believe that every veteran is a hero. I think that some are.
I don’t believe black people are all good. But I know there are enough good ones to solve their problems. I am not proud of white people. And I am very sure that nobody dead has contributed to my reputation.
I know that wearing pink does not make me more aware of breast cancer or homosexuality. My mind rarely wanders far from breasts.
I don’t believe children, academics, or pretty girls on TV should try to tell me how I can avoid insulting them.
People should realize that I will not stray out of my way not to offend them. It is the only way I have to find out if they are insecure idiots.
That is how I pick my friends.
It is why I have a few good friends

thdog ears

The Car has no feelings

I bought a new car,
I make excuses
just to look at it
in my closed garage.
I don’t drive it
because it is new
and factory clean.
All men know the feeling.
I do this kind of shit.
All the time.
Yesterday our power went out.
The electrician rewired our house.
He installed a gleaming new fuse box
next to the car
in the garage.
Now I go to look at that.
The car has no feelings.

STYLISH HOME: Luxury garage design


When my parents fought, they could quickly turn into bitter, screaming, wrestling scrums that I was too little to understand.
Sometimes I would hide in the dining room, not ten feet away crying and praying they would not divorce. I made side deals with God about keeping them together. He paid up, and I did not.
I guess our country is divorcing, and it worries me because I now realize that I can’t petition the Lord with prayer anymore. After all, He is on to me, so I am going to be of little use in any final national settlement.
Most of us grew up figuring we would go with our moms in the split of our parents. We would vote for her when asked by the judge to pick between them because she always said yes. Most times, dad would say no to stuff we wanted.
In my way of thinking, it is much the same as our nation now. The Democrats give us good things, and the Republicans try to take them away.
A dad now I can see the unfairness of this division. I can’t avoid being harder than my wife, and she knows this and relies on it. In the same way, I depend on her kindness to all of us.

Alta Behavioral Healthcare | Mental Health & Clinical Services
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