Thu, 19 May 2005

extranarrative two: bones
bones

(image by RJ Moore, girl wrestler)

Scurvy? Shyeah. Siren sickness, songs scattered seductively, silt-sullied seas swallowing spilled screaming sailors. Sentience stopped, sail-shawled skeletal sentries stand silent, stalking sounds since stilled somewhere skyward. Sirenic starvation sated, surface-swimming schoolchildren serenade shell-seated sweethearts sharing sorry ship’s story, stripped, skin-shimmering, speechless.
(12:07.05.19.2005) [/alpha/extrnarr] #

cuckoopad
cuckoopad

(image by RJ Moore, world’s laziest ninja)

The universal abolishment of distant spaces may have made trips to the bathroom much more expedient, but without question brought on strange neighbors. Telescopes in such settings demonstrate one’s willingness to indulge the decadent or the disbelief in the powers of the state to make all things instantly convenient, which is both sinful and rude. What sport was there, after all, when by merely thinking of the Venusian Saltsucker it would be little more than a glance out the window in its proximity? Everything distant becomes near, inverting Goethe’s maxim, presenting the splendors of ease on a platter of disease, our immune systems not at all prepared for the extent of our appetites. How’s that rash doing?
(12:07.05.19.2005) [/alpha/extrnarr] #

extranarrative two: charliebrown
charliebrown

(image by RJ Moore, bon vivant)

Three days into my stint as substance abuse counselor and already I had driven pop sensation Melissa Dubious into a spiral of exobiologic tranquilizers, stone of spiritual understanding abuse, parole violations and at least one missed final. Missing somewhere in the endless trade district of west gilbertville, I sent malign spirits in search of his trail, who so terribly terrified the junk-addled clientele that in the panic outside a boy-thing in a gelatin cloak threw a drink in my face, the fumes and absorption alone sufficient to trigger my long-checked thirst for my old friend John Barleycorn, leading to a three-week bender in the company of sat-pop nymphet Dubious, and that’s why I haven’t been home in so long, sweetie, honest.
(12:07.05.19.2005) [/alpha/extrnarr] #

extranarrative four: veneer
veneer

(image by RJ Moore, raconteur)

Leave it to the Monotonous Monotony Troupe to perfect their goal of slow-motion chase sequences in their new opus, “Playground Buzzbomb”. Designed primarily for those who find the hurly-burly of the modern world, its automobiles and synthetic butlers, simply too hectic to provide a lasting aesthetic experience, this six-hour piece consists of a race between a sand-stuck skateboard and a swingset. A visceral peak is reached toward the end of hour four, at which point the actor on the skateboard falls down from exhaustion, leading to the now-famous “sing-leaping sequence”, slowed to twelve frames a minute, requiring special water-cooled cameras so as not to melt the film.
(12:07.05.19.2005) [/alpha/extrnarr] #