Still Life with

two frogs, white flamingo,

some mulch, St. Francis and Hazel

Translated from the Estonian

         (That's the title)

 Northern Estonian To Be Exact

a boy named sue just spread the word around

I want you with blue suede shoes

feed your head with rocky raccoons

see how it flies like lucy in the

shine on you crazy diamond

how do we know these lyrics?

the northern lights did it to us

the borealis a’roaring through our brains

or maybe it was the reindeer moaning on the tundra

or maybe a needle jabbed the groove

spinning in the ice

broadcasting chill waves in the deep chill

paint it black, angie baby, like a rolling stone

we sing tunes in our knees

we race with the melodies

we are great runners, groovin’

sprinting through long arctic tunnels

searching for the lost chord

rock nest

by Matt Rosenberger

Can I Have a Moment?

Can I Have a Moment? by Calvin Burgamy

Complete Medical Products

from the series, "Behind Suburban Plaza",
by Calvin Burgamy

This space is reserved for your personal notes. Please write on your screen with wild abandon and send us a photo. The best entrants will be awarded a rapid ride in our Chevron Algonquin Mint Julep Matador DeLuxe Solid Leather Beast-o-Matic Supreme. 

  

Alabama Road Paint

Alabama Road Paint, Calvin Burgamy

4 x 5

4 x 5 negative by Calvin Burgamy

News of the Week

Item: Area woman reads fine print in Wal-Mart Halloween display, has epiphany. After picking out two pairs of reading glasses ("2 fer $4-Ize") at the Get Glassed! section of her local Wal-Mart, Enid Snipgrass corralled her kids (4 fer 3 seat pram) and proceeded to the pumpkin hued holiday display to pick out various interchangeable and equally priced plastic and sugar coated items for the upcoming Horror Hotel web series cast party, which featured her cousin Velma as a zombie dominatrix in webisode 5 ("Room 911 - Brainz and Chainz!!!"). Unable to read the fine print underneath the giant lurid crimson fonts, Enid donned her new not-quite-yet-purchased spectacles and, as a test of their efficacy, peered closely at the 8 point verbiage crammed below the price point:

Every thing is different from any other thing. No identity exists. Names for things are invented, traded, equated. They (the names) are not things. They are a shepherd's call. Invisible restraints to bunch real things. Herein lies meaning. It may seem demeaning, yet it holds everything together. Its incredible.

Upon reading the fine print, Enid took off her glasses and paused a moment, surveying the 2 acre expanse of products and prices arrayed around her as if she were (as a nearby oxygen challenged Wal-Mart greeter later gravely stated) "the epicenter of a torus-shaped shockwave of pure consciousness, radiating out to imbibe all things within its purview", whereupon she placed the not-yet-purchased glasses  astride the triangular eyes of the nearest jack-o-lantern, gathered her kids with a nod and a keen whistle, and exited the store without paying for squat.

After an endless eleven minute board meeting, Whirled HeadQuarters has opted to spin off its construction subsidiary despite wild success as a cash cow that keeps this entire barge awash in beverages.

Therefore: Lucky You! Because now all the names reserved for subsidiaries of the subsidiary are no longer needed, and we'd rather share them with you than them, for a modest fee of course. All reasonable offers will be refused.

Let us know which ones sing.

_______________________________

Construction Business Names Available for a Short Time Only

Homes for Honkies

Groveling Clients Construction

Rube Goldberg Homes

Immobile Homes

            “We Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere and Neither Are You”

Placenta Construction

Sign of the Beast Builders

Craven Construction

Beaver Builders

Hypotenuse Trapezoid Apocalypse

You Lookin at Me? Builders 

Casa Bluto

Stiffy Erection Co.

Flushing Homes

Quicksand Construction

            Formerly – My Name Is Mud Construction

Spandex Underwear Thongkini Construction

Level My Ass Builders

Free Sex If You Buy One Homes

Gay Happy Shiny Special Residences

            For happy shiny peoples

Speed Stops Here

R.I.P. Speed  by  Calvin Burgamy

waitress from heaven

yes! I'm ready to order . . .

i’ll have the grapes and wine special

with some sleep and a cool pillow

an aloe-and-sunburn aperitif

for dessert i’ll have an island

with palm trees and sand

for my entrée please give me a line

that’ll work on you

and i’ll take that line to go

to go with you after dinner

yes everything is divine

no i don’t want the bill

just give me some wings

and a ride on the sky

  

Barely Used Fragments of Conversation

Now Available for Re-Uptake

• Well, what if you can't find in Epicureanism what you find in Stoicism?

• The term "dead end" really brings me down.

• Just because she apologized doesn't mean I have to.

• Does that mean you'd like to go back to the barter system?

• You're invisible now. You don't need a passport.

• There are never apples in that apple tree.

• So you think he was the next Jesus?

• How do you speak for a generation that has nothing to say?

• Don't say I never warned you about watermelon.

• You hafta have a sense of humor about bankruptcy and death.

• Not all Swiss cheese has holes, and not all of it is Swiss.

• Just because you hafta ask doesn't mean you should ask.

• Two left turns do not make a right, but three do.

• You don't smell like you look.

• It's a lot easier to mix liquids together than it is to mix them apart. 

3 Remotes, One video

Road to Nowhere Not a Dead End

Road to nowhere is not a dead end. Scientists at Huffakers University in Huffakers, NV have discovered that the road to nowhere is not a dead end but is actually a vast array of a somewhat bluish vagueness. Dr. Kevin Riddle, physicist at Huffakers U., checked out his departments Chevron Algonguin Stevedore 8 cylinder, fuel injected duo jet carburetor  hyperbolic test vehicle and went further down the road to nowhere than anyone has gone previously. States Riddle, "I rounded a curve and up ahead I see a bluish vagueness instead of the nothingness that I was seeing before. The nothingness gave way to the vague bluishness and there it was and it was vague and blue so I just stopped and took it all in. I made note of it, drove toward it but it didn't look like I was getting closer so I just wheeled the Algonguin around came back to some hereness and nowness. As a physicist you don't want to hang around the vague too long.  Dig it?"

News of the Week

Item: General Motors to market "faith based" internal combustion engines. Following its hostile yet weirdly rapturous takeover by the Vatican, GM has announced plans to introduce a new line of bloatmobiles powered by what company promotional literature terms "the awesome force generated by clean living, tight jockey underwear and The Holy Ghost". Substituting the holy spirit for petrol, these new cars promise to revolutionize transportation as we know it. As GM spokesperson Sister Ignitius Magillicutty put it, "You may think you're on route 24 to Poughkeepsie, but you're actually on the High Occupancy Vehicle lane to heaven!" Responding to accusations that the new vehicles were nothing more than a bunch of hot air, Sister Ignitius was quick to point out the virtual pseudoscience behind the new design: as the driver settles behind the wheel, nerve induction sensors imbedded in the genuine leatherette upholstery penetrate the driver's fleshy posterior and measure the impurity levels vs. the spiritual force flowing through the driver's cerebro-anal fluid and utilizes a special alchemical formula to circulate the "holy nectar" throughout the car's hydraulic and combustatory mechanisms. In effect, the holier you are, the faster you go. Said Hector Thibadoux of Flatline, Loosiana, one of the twelve blessed winners of the "Pray Today, Pay Much Later" lottery, upon receipt of the prototype Holy Roller demo model, "Well, truth to tell, I haven't been able to get it out of the driveway on account of my moral turpitude, so yesterday I gave up likker and armed robbery so hopefully I'll be able to take her for a downhill spin come Sunday. That is, if I don't go on a tri-bayou murderin' rampage first." Ex-President George Bush applauded the company's efforts to "raise the depth of the average commuter's stigmata", but that was before he figured out that the new cars didn't need no high quality Texas grade crude petroleum.

The future is formed 

from the collision

of mute forces with language. 

Time Machine # 123

Computers and Lizards

News of the Week

Item: Ice Machine Kills Witnit Neo-Fascist. Dwight ("just call me D-Wite!") White, senior assistant Grand Omnikludd of the Super Duper "No, WE Da Man" White Peep's Party was killed last night in a chilling yet oddly cool act of karmic retribution. After fishing a frosty crank-sized Mountain Dooby Dooyoo out of the soda machine in the parking lot "concession area" of the Yellow Liver River Motel with his special "thing on a string" lucky one-sided coin, Dwight dismissively depressed the dispensing lever on the adjoining Absolutely Free & Absolutely All White Ice machine which promptly ejected a high velocity ice cold nugget of truth and justice right between the cross-hairs of his creamy white & knotty ass. According to witness Mayrene Magillicutty, who happened to be looking for her teeth under the rear axle of her man's souped up Pussy Vanagon, White then keeled over and gasped, "This has absolutely no relation to my supreme belief that white people have a super manlified overlordian dive-in-the-shallow-end gene pool that super seeds all other bro-races. Anybody of any pigment could get killed by an ice machine." Whereupon he lost what was left of his color and promptly quit breathing. Another Dwight White, the very black and very bulky former member of the Pittsburgh Steeler's famed Iron Curtain defense, sequestered across town in the offices of his leopard-skinned tanning salon, chuckled and knowingly adjusted his red felt beret as an opaque forewarning of the coming darkness (a darkness that would be omnipresent save for the ubiquitous light).