Tag Archives: space

THE TRUMPET’S LAST SUNRISE. CHAPTER 14

A VULGAR DISPLAY OF POWER

Denali National Park in autumn, Alaska, USA, North America

The Drone Army all roast hot dogs on the backs of their pick-up trucks and drink Budweiser and carry around tiki-torches. The sick are brought to the gates of Mar a Lago to be healed by Trump but he ignores their pleas and has his guards drag them away. This many pooor people made him nervous. Especially when everything he owned, including his teeth, was now plated in gold.

Trump stood on his roof staring up at the sky. He didn’t know where the missile was going to come from and he hadn’t told anyone else about it so he was currently alone. The sky was empty and, other than the smell of burning rubber coming from his parking lot and the occasional “yee-haw” followed by AR gun-fire, it was a beautiful day.

Amongst themselves the pooor people called themselves The Trumpets and they carried banners with the golden instrument drawn in marker. The end of the trumpet looked like a D.

D was for Donald. If you stood further than a few feet away though, it looked like white flags with gold penises.

There was one mass shooting amongst The Trumpets every day out in the parking lot. The tragedy was usually between 11 and 400 people. Nobody really cared. This was just the cost of owning guns.

“GUNS, GOD AND COUNTRY! IN THAT ORDER!” someone shouted.

The death toll didn’t matter. The Trumpets reproduced quickly. They were rabbits that had learned to use bullets.

But bullets were nothing compared to what was coming.

The Bullet. The Biggest Bullet. Power House.

Kim had launched the missile hours ago, initiating the launch himself with his own finger, smelling of his mother’s rich loins. The clock was ticking.

 

ELON1

Meanwhile, Bernie, Joe, Barack, Michelle and John were unloading in Bel-Air at Elon Musks personal runway. Bernie and Elon had met years back at a fundraiser being held at Mar a Lago for muscular dystrophy. Bernie had begun to tell Elon about his initial tinkerings with the iso-chamber and the young entrepreneur’s interests had become piqued. Elon had almost immediately become a fervent backer of Bernie’s “Socia-Realism Project” as he initially called it – and the two men had remained close since.

Elon greets them all with a healthy handshake. “Hello, humans. Welcome.” He eyeballs Joe for a moment. “This is the one?” Bernie nods. Elon is impressed with the individual’s craftsmanship.

Joe shakes his hand, “A sincere joy.”

“He almost seems human.” Elon.

“He almost does.” Bernie.

“I almost do.” Joe.

Elon speaks softly. “Joe, you’re almost perfect. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise. And you’re more human than Donald Trump will ever hope to be. And that’s because he isn’t human at all.”

“No, he isn’t. Donald Trump is a monster in every sense of the word. He is here on our planet, in our dimension, feeding off of our people. Even if they are on the wrong side of history, they are our people. And he is taking advantage of them and he is hurting them and, even if they don’t understand it, we have to help them. Even if they hate us for it, we have to help them. Even if it’s our last hour on earth, we have to help them.” Michelle is pacing as she speaks, clapping her hands to emphasize her points. She’s really feeling passionate.

They all stand in silence and admire their last sunrise.

“It’s been an honor serving with you, gentlemen. We all have our barking orders. May God, whatever that means, be with you.” And with that, McCain boards the jet strapped with enough C4 to stop Power House or to sink Florida to the bottom of the ocean.

The group would never see each other again.

Guns blazing, John. Here we go.

McCAIN1

 

 

 

 

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THE ROCKET MAN PRESSES A BUTTON. CHAPTER 11

A VULGAR DISPLAY OF POWER

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High above the world, Kim Jong Un gets his hair cut by his mother. She’s just finished trimming the sides. “I would like some milk, Mommy.” She unsnaps her top and inserts her dark nipple into his eager mouth. He suckles deeply, allowing the white gold to drizzle down his gullet. “Thank you, Mommy. So sweet.”

“Nobody laughs at my little Rocket Man, do they, Kimmy?”

He pulls his mouth off her teet with an audible pop and swallows deeply. The warmth of mother’s milk swells in his tummy.

“No, Mommy.” Her breast sprays him in the face and her milk gets in his eye. He grows irritable, jumps off her lap and scowls

“Don’t be mad, Kimmy.”

He liked it when she spoke to him this way. She didn’t want him to be mad. He could control her when she was like this. Like most women, she was soft-minded.

“Kimmy, please. Is there anything I can do?”

Instead of answering, he just stands up and exits the room.

Walking down the hall he passes a great number of guards that he’s commanded to be physically shorter than he is. Because he really liked Gi, a soldier with a soft mind and a hard body, he elected to pay for him to have his legs surgically shortened. Good help is hard to find and he liked to take care of his people.

Kim enters the deck and gazes out at space. There she is. Earth. Way down there. Trump thinks Kim is building a nuclear weapon to blow up Washington. Think again. He’s building a bomb nicknamed Power House that will annihilate the entire planet. He and his crew have enough food and water on board to last them 100 years, long enough for Kim and his mama to live and die. What happens after that to his crew is of no concern to him. Everyday he wakes up and laughs selfishly, soaking his mega-ego in the fact that he would be the person to single-handedly destroy the greatest organism in our recorded history. He would not control humanity. He would utterly conquer it. He would enslave it. He would destroy it. And then he would finally be able to live fully without consequence. To be free.

Kim turns to some guy sitting in a chair. “Status Update.”

The guy in the chair responds. He doesn’t think Kim knows his name. He likes it that way. Eyes down. “Power House ready to fire, sir. Pale Blue Dot prepped for annihilation.”

This poor man did not want to destroy Earth. But neither did he want to be on Earth when it was destroyed. But what could he do now? He had often times dreamt of leading a revolution against Kim – he hated Kim’s oppressive gut – but he just didn’t think he had it in him.

In the end, he was absolutely right.

“Where is the dotard?”

“White House. Oval Office. There’s been some kind of local disruption.”

Kim stares blankly at space, expecting more. The Nameless Man continues, unsure if he’s supposed to our not. “A… fire. In the White House. People in and out.”

Kim rubs his chin and finds a dried Ramen noodle in one of his face-rolls. He picks it out and eats it, crunching it between a collection of unbrushed, tombstone shaped teeth.

“No person has ever nor shall ever again commit an act of such great atrocity as we are about to see on this day. My name shall be memorialized amongst the stars. Initiate Launch.”

“Copy. Initiating sequence.”

The Nameless Man punches a code into his keyboard and begins the complicated engagement process of launching a planet-ending weapon. At this distance it would take some time for the destructive seed to meet it and annihilate it’s womb. But Kim was patient. And he had nowhere to be.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true.

He heads back to his quarters to listen to his mom read Oh, the Places You’ll Go by Dr. Seuss. His fat little feet shuffle a little faster as his mouth begins to water for dairy.

KIM EARTH

 

 

 

 

 

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THE SPIRALING CORNUCOPIA OF PALE LAVENDER [SEQ. 9 – 14]

The Spiraling Cornucopia of Pale Lavender is  a 10-part series of fiction that explores faith and reality. Below is part 8. To read the introduction of the project, click here.

To read part 1, click here.

To read part 2, click here.

To read part 3, click here.

To read part 4, click here.

To read part 5, click here.

To read part 6, click here.

To read part 7, click here.

Otherwise, begin scroll.

 

4The creators, encircled around me like a very intimate Roman Coliseum. There are two hundred of them. 5Each wears a different colored robe. Each means something different. 6Who are they? Who are you? 7And then I feel their presence. It reaches out to me, stronger than a language. No body speaks. 8We stare at one another and I can see them all at once, spread completely around me. 9Everything is presence. 10I have full knowledge of my surroundings. I feel absolute warmth. 11How do you describe love to someone that has never felt it? How do you tell someone what red looks like if they’ve never seen it? 12I feel uplifted. Warmth. Acceptance. 13I could reach my hands into the air and howl with delight and nobody would cast a social stone at me or even have a sideways thought of me. 14If that is how I were to display my happiness, it would be full acceptance. 15They all smile at me, but not with their faces. 16To me they all look nearly the same, much like the breed of a dog, but there are small differences. Nuances to features. 17I sense them as alternate forms as well. They display themselves differently depending on who is standing in front of them. Not just humans, either. Other races. 18A light consumes me and this one actually does look like a light. It slides with sun flares. It’s very bright. White. Almost blue. Perhaps pale lavender. 19I can see it. 20What are you? I can feel you. Your presence is so close. Take me away. Am I alone? I want to know. How can I know? Do I have to believe in all of these things? 21“Just do good.” 22But are you real?” “If I’m not, then whom are you speaking to?” 23And then everything was gone. Just like someone changed a channel. Everything was gone and [SEQ. XI] 1I found myself standing in a muted forest. And I was a yellow buck toothed sloth. 2Everything is SO muted. The greens are very mushy, pushing towards rotten. Yellows that are very warm and moist, almost a spicy diarrhea orange. There are greasy smudges of purple around. The flowers look like soggy beef. The ground looks like an untended lawn. 3Am I back on Earth? Is this what Earth has always looked like? 4I feel like my perception of truth has been totally fucked with. Have I been exposed to something so beautiful that now everything looks drab and weak by comparison? 5This world is a Seattle neighborhood in the nineties. 6I know what they did to me. In that bare moment, that moment where I felt naked, it was so powerful. Everything inside of me was revealed. 7My thought bubble. My consciousness. My history. The root of who I am. They were checking in on me and seeing how I was progressing before they placed me again. 8All the details and thoughts and past experiences were laid out in front of everyone. All the little pieces. They were pulled out of me, one at a time and then displayed. 9It was as if I were falling apart. And then I could see all facets of my entity before me, looking like orange and yellow and white dots, looking like soft gel capsules. 10And then the greys gazed. 11But not upon the gel capsules, which were merely projections for my benefit. They sifted through my meat and energy and they saw everything. All of the terrible things. All of the thoughts that I don’t want anyone to know. They know that I’ve – [SEQ. XII] 1then I’m sifting through the sea and it’s all I can observe for miles. Miles. What is that? A measurement for distance that does not matter. 2Control your elements. You are part of the elements. You touch the earth. You touch the heart of the earth. The planet of water is not a planet at all. 3Nothing is nothing. 4This is your. 5This is your subconscious. 6This bison of water is your being. Look at the ripples. Do not fear. You cannot die. 7I know I don’t have to tell you this because you already know but I need to explain it to the reader. They are a person sitting on an airplane somewhere over Utah dreaming about numbers. 8Where am I? What are you? Where are you? Are you under there? Underwear? You see the comedic value in my quip and I appreciate that. The joke would be considered by Earthlings, which you once were, as a bad one although we cannot describe why. It is called a dad joke because of something to do with its quality, something we cannot yet observe. They say things that don’t make sense. It seems to be random words strung together and then the others laugh. The dad joke is considered “bad” but it also brings a strange kind of joy and it’s only by disliking the joke that they are actually able to appreciate it. Very strange. 9They are glass porcelain, white and black and the sky is a white slate, perfect and clean and without texture. 10A moist cheese the color of lavender. Pale lavender. 11It doesn’t snow but the air glistens. It glistens lightly. Not crystals. Emotion candy. 12I stick out my tongue and catch one and a sense of eagerness and acceptance fills my body. 13My mouth is sweet caramel. It isn’t a flavor but it is a memory so sweet that I can taste it but differently than before. It is caramel over my soul orb. It is rich and dark and sweet and light and amazing and I feel it rubbing all over my person, like conditioner on my dick in the shower. 14My whole body vibrates and tingles and I am the feeling that pulls through my physical chest and pulses through my physical eyeballs and glides through my physical veins like helpful heroin, to my fingertips and it touches the back of my spine and soaks into my brain and I peak in a prismatic eclipse of shattering crystals of known experience that actually makes me laugh out loud. 15I inhale deeply and give myself a hug. Life is good. [SEQ. XIII] 1I begin walking towards work and then realize that I am in a neighborhood and I was having another hallucination. 2I haven’t been taking my medicine because I’m curious as to what will happen to me if I remove it from my diet. 3I want to better understand myself and what is wrong with me. 4I save all of my skipped pills in a small bottle in my bathroom cabinet. I don’t throw them away. 5The job is terrible. The pain is horrible. My hair is falling out. My knees hurt like fucking fuck. My hip has a sting in it when I walk and when it begins to rain. 6I mean, what the fuck? Just what the fuck, man? When did this happen? This is insane. 7I’m in better shape than this! I’m only sixty! I’m sixty. When did sixty get so old? When did this happen? 8Why am I working here? Why am I still here? 9I am going. To. Die. Soon

 

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10I’m in a panic. But it’s subtle. It’s quiet. No, it’s muffled. 11It’s very hungry and I can feel it wanting to come out. 12I need to leave this job. 13I need to do something with my life. 14What have I done? What have I done with my life? With my time? What is going to happen to me when I die? What have I done with myself? With anything? 15Will anyone remember me? 16Is that the summation of absolute oblivion? 17When you die your memory is winked out of existence? BLEEP. Goodbye. You don’t exist anymore. 18Nobody can remember you. 19And nobody will tell them. Because nobody cares. 20And this is what god is afraid of. 21If no one has belief in the message, how will the message spread? 22If we are called to be the hands and feet of god, are we called to be the hands and feet because god cannot do it himself? 23I’ve spent my life working towards god and going to church and praying and I’ve read most of my bible. I’ve read most of the new testament. Probably half of it. But I’ve read that half twice. 24I pray. I have prayed. When bad things happen to me, I pray. When bad things happen to people around me, I pray. 25When I need something and it is really important to me, I pray. 26And god never helps me. God doesn’t heal my family and people that I have loved have died. 27He never gave me the things I asked for. I was poor my entire life. I had bills and there were times that I went hungry. I mean, I was never homeless or anything. We ate. We just couldn’t always go on vacation and I had to work my entire life. 28I am afraid that this government is going to hell now that all these lower class people are asking for handouts all the time. 29I would not describe my faith as sterile. I have spent every Sunday in church for my entire life. 30I can recite the rosary, probably backwards. That’s a joke. I definitely could not do that, if I’m speaking factually. 31What will happen to me when I die? 32My heart stops. I drop to my knees. There are no houses on the street – at least no inhabited ones. 33They are all boarded up and the lawns are dead. 34And now I can’t really breathe very well. 35It feels like someone has wrapped a large belt around my chest and has started to squeeze. 36My bones hurt. 37My heart feels as though it’s going to pop. 38I take shallow breaths but don’t panic. I don’t even have to convince myself not to panic. 39It’s all right. Everything is all right. Everything will not be all right for this physical body but it’s okay. 40Death is okay. 41My death will not be okay but death is natural and it’s just time for the next thing, whatever that thing is. It’s okay. Just like going to sleep. 42We were born to do this. 43Everyone was born to do it. And now it’s my turn. And now. And now. And now. 44I lie down and I look down a sewer pipe across the street and I wonder where the water running into it goes. 45I remember racing paper boats in them as a child. 46I don’t wonder who will find my body. 47My mind is already above it. 48I cannot feel my body dying but I can feel my mind elevating. 49I can feel myself understanding things with a cleared perspective. 50There are walls on my brain and I can feel them crumbling. Information is flowing. But not information as in ones and zeroes. 51It’s information as in the curtain is being pulled back. 52I can suddenly see through all of my opinions and I can see down to the tiny little speck of fact that is buried way inside. It’s so clear. 53And I understand everything and everything I did wrong and everything I did right and did almost right and I understand that I did most of it wrong. Everything, nearly. 54My kids are the biggest tragedy. I missed it. I missed it all. And I don’t even have a good excuse. 55I just accept that I did it wrong and I don’t know what’s next but if I start over I hope I can do it better. [SEQ. XIV] 1Now I’m making waffles. 2I am thirty years old and I have short hair and a good smile. My muscles feel good and my confidence is strong. 3The kitchen is wide open and there are pots and pans hanging from little hooks. It looks nice. 4My wife is a thin brunette who usually wears white shirts and black yoga pants. She doesn’t teach yoga but she’s thought about it. 5She’s a vegetarian who thinks vegans are pious. I don’t really like her.

 

 

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We have two more segments of The Spiral Cornucopia of Pale Lavender going live over the course of the next two Mondays.

Otherwise, lifestyle pieces go up every Wednesday. Stay tuned.

 

 

 

 

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