Here: let me clean some of the cobwebs out of the corners of this old, rickety journal.
Now to dust off the candelabra. Brighten the joint up.
See ya around!
Fri, Feb. 19th, 2010, 10:51 am
So, about a year ago I submitted this poem to several online genre publications where it was rejected across the boards. On a positive note, Cat Rambo, who had privately read it, loved the poem and am thankful for that. Enjoy.
Revenge of the Alien Clockwork Nanobot Poet
He moved with funereal swiftness.
Attacked the mutant mindset of miniature Morths.
O woe! O heavenly celestial citadels
Of non-earthly but similar-to-earth earthiness.
You are the growers of the wine. No,wait,
I mean you are the Knowers of the Sign.
I am the God, with a capital G,
Of this Refurbished Clockwork Planet
Of misguided poet-martyr-warriors
With your rusted helioblimpers limping
Through the 64-bit encrypted atmosphere
Like two-bit nano-pirates.
The Great Wind-down has begun.
I have sprinkled salt on the key
And swallowed it whole.
I have sent zombie were-mutants
To mow your lawns and shine your shoes,
Oh, and to eat your children,
Almost forgot about that.
Yes, Bing Crosby beat his kids so mercilessly that they all went on to commit suicide but the warmth that radiated from his singing still moves me today. And, come on, he played enough priests in the movies to be forgiven. Enjoy:
Top Ten Books of the Decade
Here are my top 10 picks of the Decade:
1. Hamlet by William Shakespeare
2. Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer
3. The Satanic Bible by Anton LaVey
4. Lemon Pledge by SC Johnson
5. The Littlest Angel by Lee Harvey Oswald
6. Maggots in My Trashcan by How the Fuck Do I Get Rid of Them
7. Trigonometry by Euclid (or was it Archimedes)
8. The Phillies winning the world series
9. Yellow Medicine by Anthony Neal Smith
10. The Bible
The MF'rs, I mean MFA'rs, over at HTMLGIANT.com practice straight up censorship in their comments section removing comments they don't agree with. In this case, I had commented on Matt Bell's first post there by stating how much I like turtles. A minute later it was gone. Someone wasn't happy that I spoke out publicly about my fondness for the green, shelled creatures that occasionally practice the ancient art of ninjitsu. I then posted again calling them out on their censorship and reiterating my love of turtles. This was removed even quicker as my subversive comment needed to be silenced before the masses could rise up. This coming from a group that supposedly champion experimental fiction and invoke (namedrop) people like Artaud. Poseur is as poseur do. UPDATE: Thanks to our efforts combating online censorship turtles are once again allowed to be liked as my original comment has been reinstated allowing the world to see how much of an idiot I am!
According to Wikipedia:
On January 25, 2001, a third witness came forward and gave his version of the events of January 21, 1959. The witness, 56-year-old Tom Corrigan, son of Western movie star Ray "Crash" Corrigan and stepson of Moses Stiltz, was present the night Switzer was killed.
"It was more like murder," Corrigan told reporters. He said he heard the knock on the front door and heard Switzer say "Western Union for Bud Stiltz". Corrigan's mother, Rita Corrigan, opened the door to find a drunk and demanding Switzer complaining about a perceived, months-old debt. Switzer entered the house followed by Jack Piott and stated that he was going to beat Stiltz. Stiltz greeted Switzer with a .38-caliber revolver in his hand. Tom Corrigan claimed to witness Switzer grab the revolver and the two began struggling to gain control over it. Piott broke a glass-domed clock over Stiltz's head whose eye swelled shut. During the struggle the gun fired into the ceiling and Tom Corrigan was struck in the leg by a piece of shrapnel. After the initial shot, his two younger sisters ran to a neighbor's house to call for help. "Well, we shot Tommy, enough of this," he remembers Switzer saying before Switzer and Piott started to retreat. Corrigan had just stepped out the front door when he heard a second shot go off behind him. He did not see his stepfather shoot Switzer, but when he turned around he saw Switzer sliding down the wall with a surprised look on his face shot in the groins. Corrigan said he spotted a closed penknife at Switzer's side which he presumed fell out of his pocket or his hand. He then witnessed his stepfather back Piott into the kitchen counter and threaten to kill him, but as the man begged for his life, they heard emergency sirens which is why Corrigan believed Stiltz didn't shoot him again. Corrigan recalled that his stepfather, Bud Stiltz, lied in his account of the event to the authorities.
Following the shooting, Corrigan claims a now-deceased Los Angeles Police Department detective, Pat Pow, interviewed him and asked him if he would testify before a judge. Corrigan claims to have agreed, although for unknown reasons he was never called before the coroner's jury. "He didn't have to kill him," Corrigan said.
Carl Switzer is interred at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery in Hollywood, California. His death went virtually unnoticed in the media, as Switzer died on the same day as Cecil B. DeMille. Switzer received only minor footnotes in most newspapers, while DeMille's obituary dominated the columns.