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It's Raining Mushrooms...
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1328
And finally old Batsh*t delivers, more scrolls, 7 of them, amazing, an hour's reading and sounding things out...figuring things out. References to the Terminator movies, Replicants (Bladerunner), more lobster and peacock, and a girl that says it's "Raining Mushrooms". I noticed on my days photo safari yesterday (watch banner) what I suspected were Liberty Caps, suspicious, and reading the scrolls I understand...
He's a wizard of the first order in Foon, it's always cryptic - his nicknames for everyone - the chef is Ms. 777, the other waiter is Cyclone, I'm "Litn'n Rod", the world is mapped differently, a few of the scrolls integrate centerfolds and cross over into pornography - I have to look a minute, that's a penis she's holding and it's squirting up into her mouth, yep, that's pornography, but there's lots, lots there, she - despite the penis - is managing to hold on to a coffee cup in her other hand, coffee cups, coffee pots, his leitmotif.
I love this guy. And he's stalled on our meeting up today, there's a party across the lake at the Cabin, I have to dig out my HD Camera and bring it, he's not invited (I don't think), neither am I, but it'd be great to interview him there...
Meanwhile - I'm forbidden from copying his artwork, but I've taken a picture of the job lot of scrolls against the backdrop of other written ephemera, you can open in new tab and embiggen and you'll get an idea of what he's about...and they're double sided every one!
Deer in the Headlights
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2063
Friday Night, October 27th, and the boys - the band at the BBI, called to see if we, the staff, would be going to see their show.
I wasn't aware there would be a show, only that there was a party, and so go along for the entertainment, it's been a month, too long, too soon...
The BBI, the bar at the end of the world, the real "Magic Tavern", the Hive of all Scum and Villainy...
I digress. The night passes, The boys - D*** and B*****, D***, in his baseball cap and mullet, play their set, B***** has taken the spirit of the season and facepainted himself to look like "The Joker" from the latest Batman...Heath Ledger's 'The Joker'. It's a look, for sure, I guessed "Kiss" and a couple of other stray shots before I landed it. With his long, dark hair and slender appearance its certainly scary...if that's what he was going for...
End of the night a chef at the restaurant agrees to give them a ride home, I go along as well, my trailer's only a few km up the road...they don't drop me off, I'm along for company for the chef on the way back, I'll have to get out on the return trip...
Winding bends, it's dark, late, after 2:00, approaching Nelson when from the left of the road come a couple of deer...
...it's quick, they're small, she only hits one, it goes flying perhaps 5 meters, struggles to get back up, falls back down, tries to get back up...it's hip, maybe some legs are broken, flailing in the middle of the road, God knows what internal injuries, it's done, deer, people, animals in general, they never do well with car collisions...
B***** from the back seat says: "Let me deal with this..." and I let him out, a minute later there's the surreal scene of the Joker in the headlights dragging the futilely struggling deer by it's hindquarters over the edge of the embankment, they disappear into the high weeds and trees...
Waiting, waiting...D***, The chef and I, we're all quiet. What's to say? This is lousy, the companion of the deer is off in the distance, just beyond the glare of the headlights, you can see it's shadow against the night, it's waiting for it's friend, it'll be waiting for a while.
After an eternity I get out, walk to the edge of the embankment, I can see nothing in the weeds, the night, the darkness, it's complete, strange noises, not B*****, howls or cries, I call for him:
- silence.
Again:
- "Damn thing won't die!!"
he replies, the deer, in shock, many broken bones, it won't live until morning but he's trying to kill it with his bare hands, finish it off, some bizarre obligation, "put it out of it's misery", but this last bit of misery is the last bit of life it will have, it's not feeling a thing, only struggling against it's inevitable death and his helping is not encouraging...
We finish the drive to Nelson, all of us, drop the boys off, the Chef is in tears, a vegetarian, perhaps a little more sensitive to it than the rest of us, crying, I can't shake the image of the Joker hauling the deer off the side of the road, off into the bushes, out of the headlights, it's the darkest thing I've seen in a while...
Better Nicknames for Batshit
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Stormy
- Hits: 1615
It's come to my attention that I need a better name for Batshit. I like him, he's crazy, after his own fashion, but aren't we all, and I'm sympathetic to his own particular brand of craziness. Batshit is only intended to imply how eccentric he is, even for here, but I don't particularly like the pejorative connotations. So I need a new nickname .. if you think of any lemme know ...
Meanwhile, it's been a week, 10 days since I've last seen him. I've talked to some more people from Riondel, found out where he lives, off grid, not far from the church, 4 houses away, without electricity (in Canada, the Kootenays, the Rocky Mountains, Winter, Proper, 3 feet of snow per day for months on end), I'm appalled, and concerned, but these concerns can be better addressed in a different post, maybe entitled "Canada's failed experiments in Socialism..." . In any event the community has stepped up to look after him where the government hasn't.
So he pops into the restaurant, on his way to town, he's got some more scrolls, but he didn't bring them with him, he has a secret hiding place he shares with me, I can pick them up there, and I broach with him an idea that's been spinning in my head for some little while...
"How's about I get some camera footage of you and we make a little documentary..."
Now this is a bit selfish of me, but I think a larger exposure would do him good, this audience out here, it's too small, too eccentric in it's own right to pay him the attention that is his due, and he agrees...
- "You'll have at least a dozen lawsuits, it'll be great publicity..." He tells me and I'm a bit concerned...
"If you don't want me too I won't" I promise him, I don't want to exploit him so much as share him, but he explains:
- "I've got so much truth about Hollywood they won't want it to ever get out..." and there's a slight sigh of relief, it wouldn't be his disapproval, he then begins to explain the ornaments he's got hanging around his neck, then calls me outside to film it with my camera, the light is better, and so it begins, I'll need to get a better camera out of the locker, need to structure some appointments, this place, the people, they are the perfect backdrop and if it doesn't succeed it'll definitely be only my fault...
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Misty Mornings in Foon
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1983
An early morning. Worthwhile. And in a few hours the sun would burn all the clouds and mist away and I'd be trapped at work...
(right click, open image in new tab to embiggen)
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