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Of Castles & White Cobras
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1966
I'm the king of a castle at the North end of a remote mountain lake, large, several stories, stone, it's at the end of a long road...
And I've received word that there's going to be an insurrection, and so I'm packing my things to flee, at first, only a dinghy, I'll follow the lake down into the wilds, but then I realize that their the wilds for a reason, there's nothing down there, and so I take the car, pack the dinghy into the trunk, and then I realize I have no money for gas, a castle with no money? and I think there must be a treasure some where I should be able to dig up...
Fuck it. I know who's behind this, and I go to his house in a rage...a suburban house, windows, portly wife, it's the middle of the night and I'm banging on the door, go around the back, break the windows to let myself in, the Councillor, he want to know who it is, his portly wife, she's offering me some shepherds pie...
...And now, walking up the shore of the lake I'm passed by a white blur, too quick it whips along the rocks, and when it stops I see it's a magnificent, pure white garter snake with pale grey markings and pink dots, perhaps 6 feet in length, I try to pick it up but it flares it's head, turns in my hand, I let it go, fumble with my phone to take a picture, for my father, we'd been discussing how snakes have been disappearing, another one appears, the same size and colors, but different markings, I recognize it as the female of the species, the first one's mate, they're both sunning themselves on rocks, I'm trying to get a picture, but my camera is loaded with dumb games, stupid software, I can't find the camera app, I didn't install these, don't know who did, the only solution is to reboot the phone into safe mode and restore it...
Trilby & Oblomov
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Books
- Hits: 2485
With cold and wintry days, and not enough gas to get back to prospecting, I begin to catch up on my reading. 2 books - Oblomov, by Ivan Goncharov, a traditional Russian Satire, in the vein of Bulgakov (but some 100 years his predecessor), it's a masterpiece of characterization and a gentle satire on the Russian nobility. Nuanced, romantic, in an amazing translation by Ann Dunnigan.
And the other, Trilby, by George Du Maurier, a bestseller of the late Victorian era, as opposite in quality and temper as could be imagined, full of stereotypical characters (not all kind, the Jewish stereotypes are offensive, the English, absurd, the French, well, you get the idea. Stereotypes.), slight events, now only notable because it introduces us to the idea and character of Svengali.
Oblomov is by far the better book, take Trilby as a curiosity and colorful exaggeration of life in Bohemian Paris. But as good a way as any to while away those few remaining leisurely hours...
Road Trip
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2655
5'6", 110 lbs, and she doesn't even slightly pull her punches. I'm in no position to retaliate, driving, in traffic, I can see opportunity a mile away but there's no safe way to wind up, when finally I get a good one in her eyes tear up, she accuses me of hitting her too hard, she's of course under no such restraints.
The game is, of course, "Punch Buggy, no return", for every VW Bug (or modern equivalent) I receive a bruising punch to the shoulder. One doesn't hurt, but try driving through Calgary, downtown, rush hour and see how many you get. I've got a callous. And add to this the hundreds of peripheral rules, an added "Banana Slap" if it's yellow, there's an added "chop" if it's a convertible, and another pinch or punch if it's a vintage bug...
These rules, they're carefully withheld, one needs to enquire after specifically brutal outbreak to find them out, they're then presented as matter of fact and of course I should have known this...
And there are the misidentified cars, she preemptively punches me upon sight of a VW logo, her eyes are better than mine, worse when the car comes to pass, a Jetta, Golf, Lexus even, if the color is right, so many mistakes I'm forced to add in penalties...
These games, they're her revenge for every empty country road and prospecting misadventure I've ever taken her on, and it crosses my mind that if Humbert-Humbert suffered a cross-country road trip with his 14 year old Lolita than he doubtless got what he deserved...
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