Article: 261130 of talk.bizarre
From: arifel@melbourne.DIALix.oz.au (Nikolai Kingsley)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: funny anarchartist chemicals
Date: 30 Nov 1995 12:51:31 +1100
Organization: DIALix Services, Melbourne, Australia.
Lines: 126
Sender: arifel@melbourne.DIALix.oz.au
Message-ID: <49j2n3$1ji$1@melbourne.DIALix.oz.au>
Summary: (flubs lips)
Keywords: dissociation telephone-sex



and this one's for elizabeth.



"hello?"

"Hello."

"oh!  um, hello.  i didn't expect to hear from you until thurs-"

"Tell me a story."  (pause)  "Are you still there?"

"uh, yes... but i don't know that this is a very good time to-"

"You're not having SEX with someone, are you?  I can call back in a few
minutes if you are."

"no, i'm NOT having `sex'.  i haven't done the sex thing since i stopped
taking prozac in Novem-"

"You mean, since she threw you out because you couldn't get it up.  So,
why won't you tell me a story?"

(sigh) "because i've just done two hundred mikes of Tolkene, and i was
settling down to watch `Eraserhead'."

"What's that?"

"it's a film, directed by David Lynch, starring -"

"No, I meant `what's Tolkene'?"

"it's one of the new AnarchArtist chemicals.  it does funny things to
the speech interpretation and cognitive centres, or so i'm told.  so i
could probably start telling you a story, but if it's the kind of story
i think you want me to tell you, i won't be able to finish it and you'll
be horribly frustrated.  and i think i've caused you quite enough
emotional pain and differentiation - um, i mean, uh -"

"differentiation?"

"no, i meant, ah... quantum-level aliasing - no - spark-plug gap.  shit.
no.  not the SPARK-PLUG gap, those fan-shaped things that you MEASURE
the gap with.  like multi-bladed knaves.  uh, knives.   yes."

(pause) "You're not going to tell me a story because you think you've
caused me enough knives.  i think i see."

"dammit, don't see like that!  OKAY, okay, i'll dig you a shovel.
shorry.  story.  sorry."

"And no vampires, okay?"

"haaaa, ha.  so there's this vampire, in the sixteenth century in the
country-side, in Poland, in the fourteenth century - no, um,  around
then.  no.  early seventeenth section.  century.  outside Kosenice.
nice farming land.  there's an abandoned capture-file, i mean, cataract.
capsule."  (pause, slap)  "CASTLE.  some unspecified family disaster,
no-one lives there except mmm...m-" (pause)

"Marianne?  Mikhail Gorbachev's great-grandmother?"

"M... umm, muh, m-"

"Mario Andretti?  Michael Moorcock?  Madonna?  Melmoth the Wanderer?"

"MAREK.  his name's marek.  he used to be a m... mmmmEDICAL student but
he got bitten by one of the court-cases-"

"Corpses."

"thank you, corpses who was actually a vampire, so he ran off to the
forest and hid in this bandied cataract.  castle.  i'm sorry, you're
wondering where the love interest comes in.  he's out wandering one cold
night when he hears shouts, two local presents are chasing this young
whirl -"

"girl..."

"- through the freeze, through the FOREST, he kills them both and
rescues her. she's fainted, he picks her up and takes her pack to the
crass, uh, takes her back, starts... a, starts - he breaks up some old
furniture and starts, uh, he puts it in the -"

(wearily) "He starts a fire.  Get on with it.  I'll assume that he puts
the girl to bed. Tell me about her."

"she's... about sixteen, long dark-brown fair, she... has, an -
ar-is-to-CRAT-ic nose, like she's got a very case of noble ancestry
somewhere in her family shoe, uh, tree.  usual attractive peasant whirl,
sumptuous figure, helena bombshell-cartwheel's eyebrows, nice
hemispherical - um, starts with B."

"I can imagine.  Go on."

"Okay.  Marek puts her down on the bread, finds some situational brandy,
drops a few lips between her, uh, lips, hah, finds some breadwarmers,
puts them into the fire, stands near so he can warm up his cold vampire
body.  then. he. lies. down. next. to. her. holds. her. to. him.  she
skies, turns under to hold, presses her hemispheres up against his
horizon, and breathes her level entry life against him. slowly, warming
and arms and eyebrows.  it sort of, uh, it cries against the night skies
and the still-born cold warm, he's death, get it, he's cold and has
nothing FOR her, but she still sleeps.  anyway."  (pause) "are you still
there?"

(sarcastically) "More than you are, I suspect.  I'll call you back
tomorrow, if you think you can be straight then."

"but i haven't finished!  he's done this before, with the farm life of
time behind, no, the farmer's, CHILDREN, they get lost sometimes, in the
past, and he finds them, he interviews them, he's not the devil but they
run away again and she has to be the same but different, she just wants
something she can never have -" (pause) "okay, i'm ranting. tomorrow.
i'll finish this tomorrow.  sleep, uh, well tonight.  on your
hemispheres.  okay?"

"good night."


`Scientific studies reveal we only use               nikolai kingsley
ten percent of our brains, so smart     arifel@melbourne.dialix.oz.au
people are unneccessary' - D:LB