By Nous

                      November 27, 2004

OX!

The young boy rode his bicycle through the neighborhood. He felt
himself piercing the air with his body.  Crazy brown hair flying
about, waving goodbye as it passed. A bright red bicycle.
Turning a corner, the boy closed his eyes momentarily to feel his
stomach resist the sudden change in direction.  The wonderful
feeling had not yet passed when a voice broke the boy's trance.
What did it say?
The boy looked up to his right and saw a girl leaning out of her
window, yelling something.
"Ox!"
Ox, she said. Ox.
Before he knew it, the boy fell forward out of the bicycle.
Something or someone had run into him from behind and pushed him
out of his seat.
Down on the pavement, red marks dried on the ground, and a large
pink cord of what looked like ground beef fell out of the boy's
broken skull. Not even a brain. It had scraped against the bone
and cut itself into one long strand of meat.
But the world had gone black for the boy. And there was nothing
for him to see.  There was no way for him to wonder what it had
all meant.

There is something strange about short animal names.  Ox, for
example. Frog. Snail. Horse.
Tiger! Now there is a name one can feel. The word 'tiger' can be
understood. If two people are in a zoo and one points at something
and says, "Tiger," the other person does not even have to look
to understand what will be there.
Assuredly, it will be a tiger. Even if 'tiger' is still sort of
a strange word.
But if someone points behind you and says, "Ox," well you must
turn and look.
"There can't be an ox there," you say to yourself.
Ox, frog, snail, and horse also do not seem to be words at all.
Or, rather, they do not seem to be in a language we speak. Say
'frog' over and over to yourself. Say 'horse' or 'snail.' They
are like words from another language,  another world,  that we
have come to associate with our planet's animals.

MELON WATER

I just now made up a HILARIOUS conversation that took place
between two fictional people - a man named Joseph and a girl
named Daria. And as I live to make you laugh, I will now
recite the conversation, in character and in costume. Allow
me to prepare ....

...

Okay. Ready. Ahem.

Joseph: I just genetically engineered a new breed of horse.
Daria: Just now?
Joseph: Most horses move forward, backward, and even sidewayz.
But this horse ... moves through time!
Daria: You mean, you basically made a time machine.
Joseph: A time machine that is a horse, yes.
Daria: Okay, look. I know you didn't make a Horse Time Machine.
You've been masturbating in your room for over two hours while
screaming things about Don Quixote.
Joseph (extending arms as if holding reigns): It was sweet dude.

I AM WELL-READ

Though not well understood.
Do you see what I did there?
The problem with being well-read is that one acquires dog ears.
I would be willing to bet that not a single day has gone by in
over ten years that someone has not said to me, "If you don't
mind me saying so, you've got dog ears!"
Of course I say I don't mind, give a little bow, and go to fix
myself a drink. But deep down, I wish it was not so common for
me to be called out on my incredibly creased dog ears.
Perhaps I should stop hanging out with those who drink too much.
The only other problem with being well-read is being recognized.
It is not uncommon for me to show up at parties, take off my coat
and hat, and be instantly recognized by my cover.
"Why, you're Nous!"
Indeed I am. How ever did you guess?
"I read your spine! I did not know that they made you in paper
back."
Oh, yes, indeed. They had to make me in paperback at some point.
They do that with all the good ones.
"Oh, please, let me give you a hug! You're my favorite Drama."
The flow of hugs and kisses follows for, I would say, at least
an hour. But endure it I must; for, it is the price one pays for
being well-known and loved.

A DREAM ABOUT DROWNING

Phrases like those trip me up. I can never say them correctly on
the first try. The R's - as well as the M and B - are confusing.
They all fall head first into a pot and come out in one mumbled
cake sentence. And that calls for a syllogism:

Cake sentences are not made in pots.
Pots have no use in the bathroom.
[Therefore] Cake sentences have use in the bathroom.

My logic, I have been told by some of the greatest philosophers
of this or any time, is beyond compare. So if you wonder whether
the above syllogism is true, you have a right to question it. For
those same philosophers never claimed that my logic contained any
truth. In fact they have often said in public that my logic is as
faulty as the state of California.
That calls for another syllogism:

My logic is as faulty as the State of California
The State of California is not a mental state at all
[Therefore] My logic is not as faulty as one's mental state

Hmm.
'As faulty as one's mental state.' There goes another phrase I
cannot correctly say. If you like Cake Sentence, then you'll love
being around me. Because many words trip me up.
Cake Sentence is a sentence filled with cake.
Now, none of that fancy Yankee cake; but rather, the classic,
homemade, true cake of the South. I have heard tell of it growing
wild in the great state of Tennessee. It's supposed to grow most-
ly in Memphis.
On a side not, Memphis, associated with Elvis, is a very nice
town.
Syllogism:

Elvis is associated with Memphis
Memphis is a very nice town in Tennessee
Tennessee is where the Wild Cake Sentence grows
[Therefore] Wild Cake Sentence grows in Memphis

Well, a syllogism can NEVER have four ideas. Make sure to never
make such a mistake.  It will destroy your logic if you don't.
Three ideas is the limit. So what I suggest to you do, in order
to make the above conclusion true, is to highlight and delete
one of those ideas. Any will do. Then, and only then, will it
hold water.
Example:

Memphis is a very nice town in Tennessee
Tennessee is where the Wild Cake Sentence Grows
[Therefore] Wild Cake Sentence grows in Memphis

Another syllogism for comparison:

Wild Cake Sentence grows in Tennessee
Tennessee contains a very nice town called Memphis
Memphis is associated with Elvis
[Therefore] Elvis often walked in fields of Wild Cake Sentence

Sometimes, a syllogism can have four ideas.

EXAMPLE:

The title of this part of the Rant is "Example:" and is perhaps
the most important part of the entire thing. I would be willing
to bet that it is the most important piece of any body of work
ever written, but humility forces me to merely make the assert-
ion; for a humble man never wagers a dime, if his wager is based
on what he has written. This is the reason John the Revelator
never bet anybody that he wrote the truth.
And now to the point: Is this really the most important thing
anybody will ever read?
I wager a hundred dollars that indeed it is. Anybody willing to
take the bet can reach me via email. But they must do so now,
before reading the contents of this chapter.
Now.
Ready then?
Okay. Here goes.

A LIST OF THE TOP TEN BLOND BOMBSHELLS IN AMERICAN CINEMA

10. Marilyn Monroe

She was cute. Had a very nice quality that made you want to
take care of her. Didn't like her movies much, though. And
she isn't THAT hot.

9. Marion Davies

Ooh. Cutie. Kissable little lips and dreamy Bette Davis eyes.
But fun and charming.

8. Carroll Baker

Very hot. This bombshell starred in such movies as Elia Kazan's
"Baby Doll."  That movie itself should earn her a spot on this
list. Spicy.

9. Lana Turner

Hot in a secretary way. Very classy.

8. At this point, I should note that these are only the actresses
who are well-known. No Scifi B-movie actresses. No adult film stars.
I know there are some sexy ones there, but I will not have them
ruining this list with their bad reputations.

7. Syllogism:

9. This list is in descending order

5. This spot is number five

8. [Therefore] The next spot is number four

3. But as you can clearly see, it is not.

2. If there is one thing I hate about logic, it is that it does not
help you in the least.

1. Barbara Lang

Google her.


A DREAM BEFORE DROWNING

How funny. That phrase isn't difficult to say at all. But I do
remember the dream before the dream about drowning. I was driving
down one of those broken, dirty little streets by my house where
no one seems to rake their leaves or anything. And I park in front
of this big white house. I go in and there is an old Asian guy
there, and he's selling stuff. And I'm just browsing, but I see
a clear plastic bag on a hook and it's holding moon-shaped sugar-
coated soft candies.
Oh my God.
They were Jolly Jellies.

FLASHBACK: Many years ago - in ninth grade - I visited my aunt's
house. I was sitting in the dining room eating something she had
cooked. Everyone was outside and I was alone in the house with
her. Calling my name, she put a large jar on the table and said,
"Have you ever had these?"
I told her I had not and she said, "They are so good. Try some."
She grabbed a handful for herself and I had doubts about mixing
candy with my glass of tea.
I cleaned the taste of tea out with my saliva and plopped the
little candy into my mouth.
Hm. Soft. Sweet.
I think I'll try another. And another. And another.
Orange, watermelon, strawberry, lemon. Before I knew it, I had
eaten about a fourth of the jar.
I have got to get me some of those, I said, imitating Will Smith.
Before long, I was eating the sweet little "Jolly Jellies" in
incredible amounts. A heroin addict wasn't consuming his drug
the way I consumed those candies.
Alas, a day arrived when an orthodontist put braces in my mouth
and told me to stop eating sweet stuff, handing me a list of
things I couldn't eat.
Every now and then I would eat some of the forbidden fruit, but
for the most part, I remained true to my word that I would have
no sweets.
"By the time I get these braces off," I joked, "they will have
discontinued Jolly Jellies!"
And eventually they did. Right before my braces came off.
These are dark days.

BACK TO THE DREAM: So I grabbed five large packs of Jolly Jellies
and headed to the car to consume them. But before I could do so,
some Asian guys killed me because the store I was in was secretly
a base for the Triad - the great secret society from the East.
It's very big in Houston and Los Angeles.
So that was that.

For the longest time, I've toyed with the idea of starting a
"Bring Back Jolly Jellies" webpage, but nothing has come of it.
I'm sure there are others out there just like me who would love
to have Jolly Jellies back. A petition or something would help.
But I know that Jolly Jellies are gone forever.
That is, until some gay ass retro food company brings it back for
like five years before discontinuing it again.
I'm counting on that.
So until then or whenever

Keeping His Fingers Crossed Yours,

Nous