In Heaven No Ones Worries About Your Feet

Two pencil panels of Kens 1974 outer space adventure "Arik Lycar" - words added by Deegan in 2013

In Heaven...

I got to heaven, the hell if I know how. I took my place before God. I was worried about how my feet looked, years of tennis, injuries and imbalances had taken their toll. My feet were so ugly just looking at them would hurt your feelings. Callouses, corns, bunion like bulges and crooked toes, it hurts just thinking about them.
     In heaven no one wears shoes, so indeed I felt pressure and was afraid. So the first thing I say to God is, "I'm sorry, what about my feet?" He says, "No one is worried about your feet here, see for yourself, your feet are fine! I looked down. There just below my ankles - were two perfectly well shaped feet that reminded me of my youth. "Well? What do you think?". I paused for a second and said: "I think they should be a little plumper, you know, slightly thicker". (I always wanted my feet to look a little stronger.) "Oh  really?" God said. He motioned a nearby courtier. They spoke in hushed tones.
     Now if you have things that work they don't bother fixing them, I for my part have always had acute hearing, my friends would say that I had "X-ray" hearing! So God and the courtier spoke silently - but I heard every word they said...
God: How the hell did this asshole get in here?
Courtier: He was on the list.
God: Who made the list?
Courtier: You did sir.
God: Good God, I must have been tired that day. Well, we have to get him out of here!
Courtier: You can't break your own rules sir, the only way to get him out is to put him back on earth with ten years of good health.
God: All right! Do it! Just get him out of my sight!
 Courtier: You got it boss!
God: Don't call me boss!

The Courtier comes over to me, smiling. God has decided to give me another chance! I'm going back to earth all alive and well! I think to myself "Wow, the bullshit never stops does it, not even in heaven!"
     So, that is why my feet are so pretty, if you don't believe me ask God yourself. Tell him Bob sent you.
...submitted by Deegan with TMITH

You are never really poor...

Just hungry all the time, ill clothed and unsheltered. God is with you, except where it would mean something to your disease ridden flesh crawling with biting insects. Hey, don't be so negative. Look on the bright side. This won't go on forever and by the look of you it won't be going on for more than a week or two. 

Notes:

1. Count your chickens before they find out you are illegally raising them in your backyard.
2. Cut your grass with a grass cutting machine for once, those goats stink and the lawn is never even.
3. Before you show up next time, wash your clothes in some hot soapy water, same with your body.
Sally left this in her neighbors post box, but knowing he has a gun, I removed it.

I Can't Get...

My Wall Street terminologies straight.
Is it "Wall Street Traders", or "Wall Street Traitors"
Is a junk bond simply junk, or toxic waste?
Is it a derivative, or a dirigible (like the Hindenburg)
If an individual traitor steals your money, we can stop him, but if they all do it together in unison we call it an "economic meltdown"...

Armageddon is where God shows all you assholes how pissed off he really is.
He is going to show you just how mad you make him.
My therapist thinks God has anger issues. No more than anyone else I guess......

Too Many Godzillas

Tried True and… Boring!

…sometimes somehow you just can’t find the groove, but pause and consider, actually there is a formula to things - but you don’t want to be formulaic…which is very interesting because abandoning the formula can make things very difficult. At the same time boring and formula go together, don’t/do they? That is one reason people choose to do things the “hard way” - just to keep the drama and interest up…

At The Crossroads

Crossroads: Am we at them? Am we? Someone is always telling us that we are at the crossroads. Well I am sick of being there and need a rest. No decisions that impact the future. No diet and exercise. No buy and sell. No preparation for tomorrow, no horrendous diseases to be treated for or aches and pains to be avoided. No love to be gained or lost, no jobs to be hired or fired from, and no concepts to be misconstrued. No attempts at fantastic-ness, none of that. Not at least for the next seven and a half minutes. Unless you are in a hurry, then I'll start now.

If Life Were Fair

If life were fair my mind wouldn’t cloud over in certain situations and my thinking would be pristine and careful. My body would be appropriately sized and not leak gas. No one would kill me just because I lived in a certain geographical location, had a peculiar ideological persuasion and my skin had a different cast. Ah if.

 

Too Many Godzillas

Have you ever woke up, looked out your back window and realized you had too many Godzillas running around in your backyard? Something must be done. Who do you call? Answer next week.

Don’t Be So Sensitive… be  coarse, crude and corrupt. Get your ducks in a row and blow their heads off. Remember that you don’t need money for love, but you do need it for sex. Certainly keep this in mind. What do I mean, "Don't need money for love" of course you do silly. You need money to cross the street. But true love is priceless, it really is. It is also undefinable. 

 

Next Week: LOST OUR LEASE!

Free Range Words

Nancy's Funky Goldfish by Ken


 

The Falcons Beak
So... I was savoring a well constructed conceptually complete thought but being interrupted by the need to survive I ceased considering and thinking - I became plain and in need. I was no longer of the source but was simply a beast with a desire for objects. I initialized, fomented, facilitated the recreation of myself as simple hunger. I became appetite. As appetite I on occasion would transfer or transmute into craving and at the same instant would become bitter over being craving and then I became known as "Bitter Craving". I was adopted by my father Insatiable who is a hunter and then I became Insatiable Bitter Craving.

My hunt for pleasure and satisfaction never ended and contentment was far in the distance but always right behind me, I would turn and see contentment - again instantly distant - though she would cry out to me, then sometimes laugh or sigh at me. Some moments within the hunt I could feel myself inside of contentment, I could feel her skin so smooth! In the next blink as I released my arrow she was gone and I was left cold and listless. I began to fear that I would always be bitter craving and never feel the source again, never be inside the root. I could not flow and be as one who can feel in the fractional second or be at the place one is.

So I paused and put my bow down and my father Insatiable came to smack me on the back with the flat of the sword but I looked at him and he stopped and just went away. I would never see him again.

Just then a rabbit came to me with a mouthful of clovers and looked me in the eye for awhile and I sat and listened to the rabbits thoughts and came to be inside one of the clovers' stem right next to some chlorophyll. The cell wall was warm soft and moist-wet and I was feeling it. I moved thru the rabbit and found myself energizing the muscle of his left hind quadrant as he scurried away from an unknown threat. Not less than fifty feet had he covered when I realized I was airborne and flying at great speed inside a falcons beak. The reality of the occasion was a balm to me, a sort of  liquid independence. Is there anything left to say?

I Need A Hook For My Cosmic Rap - Reynard
I felt the rotation I felt the weeds
I see confrontation and my heart bleeds
I try a vacation but I still have needs
Your adjudication certifies your greed
You think I'm merely talking or that I'm only balking or my seams need caulking
But I'm afraid there's much more that you will find
if you could only cease your thoughts so blind
So go get back to your vanilla
While I deal with godzilla

Get with the Rotation - Planet Style

Master: Who poses a greater threat, Godzilla or a monkey?
Orange Student: The bamboo stick in your hand, master.
Master: You are progressing well my son.

Master: Who poses a greater threat, Godzilla or a monkey?
Green Student: You are going to hit me again with the bamboo stick are you not?
Master: Heads that do not think must duck. Your caution impresses me to a lesser degree.

Master: Who poses a greater threat, Godzilla or a monkey?
Black Student: Master, there are three answers, but none of them satisfy, so instead we must sit and listen to the pond - though it seems stagnant.
Master: You have finished your course since you are no longer worried - you will be a fellow master with me or start your own school, it is a course that will wend itself.

The Shroud of Bullwinkle \ Fracking Time!

Watch Me Pull a Rabbit Out
As important as any other religious icon of our modern era, we have acquired one of the first imprints of the Shroud of Bullwinkle. There is simply nothing else like it anywhere, you who are amazed by weeping statues, crying mashed potatoes and Jesus toast, feast your eyes on the following...

                                     THE SHROUD OF BULLWINKLE

Imprint from The Shroud

The haunting eyes and flaring nostril fragment are proof of a spiritual connection of some sort. Reynard assures us that this is as authentic as the underpass Madonna and also has a receipt from the manufacturer.

And now a word from today's sponsor
Western Allied Oil and Gas...

A beautiful fracking operation in the wasteland
across the street from Arby's

There no better (or more beautiful)
Time For Fracking than now!
Extracting gas from the earth's crust requires busting through upper layers of rock and water pockets, some of which may sustain some slight damage in the process. The economic benefit to the gas drilling industry far exceeds the minor environmental impairment some have imagined (and seen, albeit to a much lesser extent.)
Some or perhaps all of the fish in the stream may die. You'll cough or get a sore throat. Years from now you may contract a type of cancer, we are not worried, you will not be able to prove that it is related to us at all, and by then that particular well will be long closed.
Jobs are created, homes are heated, prosperity is enhanced - particularly at the upper end of the economy. We are just using the earth as god intended. Besides if what we are doing is wrong or immoral the earth has a way "of shutting the whole thing down"! You can trust us to do the right thing.
FRACKING: THE MARK OF TRUE CIVILIZATION

The Cosmic's Storefront Office
Reynard says Zzen's distaste for "the physical" realm is more than likely a direct result of him having so much of it. It could be true. Check out what Zzen drives to the office of the Cosmic, not just a Bentley, but a customized Bentley! I'm not jealous or anything. Not really. Well not really really...

Zzen's Customized Bentley - photo in front of Cosmic office (blurred for privacy) 

I sacrificed my life for a season of forgiving, then I realized I really wasn't living. I became angry and demoralized and drank until my mouth bled dry - it suddenly occurred to me that I could "take it" or "leave it". So while I was deciding what I was going to take I kept doing what was needed to "make for food" -because eating really is important to me.

And so...biologically driven concerns overwhelmed me and I sought a groupon for a brothel because I'm so cheap. There were no specials or discount days at the bordello and so instead of trying the socially acceptable method of marital frustration, I bought some flowers, wine and expensively shining rocks, taking an interest in my companion at large. Still I stood at the altar of aggravation and analyzed my life as being entirely too self-centered - so I bought a sandwich for a homeless guy - he threw it at me.

At that point I decided to go back to god - who said I owed him so much I'd have to be reincarnated fifteen times just to break even. So I decided to just relax and "let it be" (even though I'd have to use a trite cliche in order to accomplish it) and so I became smooth and graceful and found the consciousness, ah... the consciousness!

Bums In Trees

Bums Livin In Trees!
Look up, be up, do up, see up -
look it, see it, be it, live it! But get outta my tree you bum!
I was going to be a bum living in a tree but Reynard, Sally, TMITH, and Deegan would not come with me - Zzen didn't care one way or the other. The internet provider needed a real address, not "the big oak 100 feet west of the CN South Holland railroad track yard's southernmost switch with a truck tyre at it's base". So I gave up trying to live the "High Life" and remained electronically ambulatory. I will reside with all the rest.




Cycleta Eats - by Ken

Feel The Now

Why are you stressed my son?
I have forgotten the path, Master.

Have you truly forgotten? Or has your ego overtaken you such that you believe you are above the universal law?
It is as you say, Master.
Then you are free from now from your stress, resume your position and remember where you are. You simply abandoned your immediate position and took a spot in the past or future, two places you can never be.
But, the future is my master!

If that is the case you are truly lost.
But Master, Let me illustrate. A train approaches, I stand in the trackway, in the future I will be hit if I don't... 


If you are going to use a false illustration, I will have to beat you with a stick!
So many trains though Master!

Oh, I see. You are overly concerned with things you cannot control. Here let me...

-SMACK!- (light bamboo stick to the head)

Owww! Master stop please! You are consumed with things beyond your grasp. You fail to see the beauty and peace available to you now, also you did not duck. You are here now, not tomorrow, not yesterday. Be here, watch for the bamboo stick, see the intense beauty of the flower. Marvel at your ability to merely think, wonder in the air surrounding you. Assume your place. Be in the universe at the time it exists.

I feel the now now, Master.
Indeed.


"Pessimism" - By TMITH

TRYONGESS

Tryongess is the third planet from the Naltan Sun. It is inhabited by semi-foolish beings who are always trying to figure out why and when and what-for do the things occur. They create hardened code which allows them to pretend they know. If they think they know they can relax and suspend reality, pretending it is not there.

They also waste precious time bowing down to the hardened code. They cannot hear it or taste it but they know it exists because it really does exist, except that it is simply not the code they actually see in their little heads but something incalculable and unquestioningly undefinable.

It is really not hard at all.

Ripples Through Reality



Over The Hills - by Ken

Ripples Through Reality

You think that it is enough to simply exist but, hut hut - hut! It's never enough. When has it ever been, for anybody? You got one, now you want five and that's cool, otherwise you'd be standing around collecting dust and we have met the dusty ones and they are not usually desirable to hang around with. So it is with the human condition - which we have been given the ability to question, analyze and philosophize "at" but not the capability to actually "correct" (because once corrected, true boredom sets in).
      So the struggle or "jihad" continues unimpeded throughout the centuries and also throughout your own few decades of awareness. Stumbling upon the error filled information fed to you by those who would manipulate you for their own interests, you attempt to live a certain pro- or pre-"scribed" life or lifestyle, failing and succeeding, helping and damning. The circular flux of your existence few see and even fewer comprehend deeply. Even you don't know the full impact of your life - as it ripples through reality.

Study for "Allegorically Bad Fish with Bowl, Breasts and Tomato on a Bad table"

Touch Someone
I prevailed upon myself these comments and actions and decided to touch as many people as I could, so I would be remembered as "Someone who touched many". So I went and touched people. Few understood, I was hit and beaten often, arrested, jailed and then they explained that I had the wrong concept of "touching". So I discontinued my original quest and began "feeling" instead. I felt as many people as I could find, but to no avail - my energy fades -  few could see the genuine care I demonstrated, the tender caresses... but I must get back to you on these on these matters, just as soon as I am released from the hospital.





The Hidden Beauty of Urban Grit - by TMITH

p

Who Are These People?

Who are these people and why do they use such foul language?
That is a fine question coming from a squirrel embalmer such as yourself, but since we at the Cosmic are so multinational, orchestrational and consequential we do not deign to reject inquiries from rapscallions, muppets, or even kings.

The Cosmic staff is as follows:
Deegan
The Man In the Hat (or TMITH)
Reynard
Sally
Zzen
Ken (the art guy who sometimes speaks but is never heard)

The foul language is thrust upon us by Deegan, Reynard and sometimes TMITH. Their intent is to maintain an aura of "reality" but they basically just weaken the statements they attempt to make. Therefore future installments will become bereft* of undue strong language. The only time we will say a "f**king" curse word is when we are driven to it, or if a character in one of our fine story snippets is prone or required to curse in order to remain in character.
     Speaking of characters - Deegan just asked who made the inquiry as to his colorful diatribes so that he may grab them and beat the "shiite" out of them - so if I were you I'd just put some money in the donation box and leave now, unless you desire to be beaten so you may become clean, which is an entirely different matter altogether.

*You thought "bereft" was a "bad word" and you were right! In the year 1357.5 the root of bereft was associated with "people who thought too much and were probably witches" and if you said it you stood a good chance of being "sawed asunder" just like a prophet! I thought you might like to know before we beat you up.

"Power" by Ken

Breast-Nipple
In the Golden Age which we are now living one may see murders and mayhem, one can personally watch the stoning of a defenseless woman, but one cannot see a womans breast-nipple. That is the height of blasphemous behavior, so cut that ____ out. 

If You Could See It, It Would Have Been There by TMITH

Big Head

Hot Kirby by TMITH

My head is too big. My ego, monstrous beast, has taken me over with a grip of iron that cannot be defeated. The ego-lust slows my growth like an iron band around a tree trunk. I cannot be wrong and I know more than you - or your ancestors. I strain and wheeze gasping for the air of something new but am strangled by the net of the know-it-all. I'd like to water my garden with the vast expanses of wisdom from all corners of the universe, but my watering can is already full. Woe is me that I cannot be emptied so that I may be filled again. I cannot enter a new room - mainly because my head won't fit.

But in the same instant I can see something pushing, not sure if it is a sprig or sprout, between the fingers of the muscular beasts' hands, he is surprised and little pieces of him start to crack and little vines push outward between the crevices. The ego beast takes on a greenish apperarance as he is softened by the lush growth of a new life humble. He sits crosslegged amidst the meadow and dew actually transforming, becoming a pile of flowers - attracting honey bees and stares of well wishing onlookers.

So my head became human sized once more, proportionate, and now for an instant, I am at peace.

A scene from Reynards upcoming short "Time Machine Nigger"

 

Zzen and TMITH work together in the kitchen, but cook no food...
Formica? NO!
I gaze out over my artificial stone counter feeling satisfied to have acheived, at least in my kitchen, a semi permanent state. My counter will not warp or chip unless you hit it with a cast iron skillet (which someone did right there, dammit!). Oh if only all of you could enjoy an artificial stone countertop by the sinks of your lives! Your joy would only be transcended by the solid marble bathtub I'm soaking in as I dictate this message to my secretary-masseuse, the non-concubinical Sally. Please note that the solid gold fittings bend too easy, so I am going with an alloy. If only your minds could comprehend that, then you would see the full extent right before you - Look! The cedars of Abalonica! That is another thing I have so in abundance, solid wood panels. Fine cedar and oak in all the recreational and study areas - it re-arranges your mind just looking at it. Always remember that these things are dwarfed by the vastness of my interior estate...and as it is with me, myself, are not to be envied...
So what lesson are we experiencing today? It is this. Do not buy chip-board counters faced with bonded crackable plastic. These cannot possibly reflect the infinite realm. They are simply too cheap. Go with stone, or have them pour fine concrete finished with hand rubbed linseed oil and stained, giving a depth and strength most commensurate with a zen stroke. If you cannot afford these things a simple pine board will do, at the right moment the heavens will open and you may peruse the limitless possibilities of an artificial stone top. Peace and patience be with you - you who wait with cosmic authority.

On a beautiful warm day such as this... it is good to have one's shit together...

Deegans' Crude Prophesy

DEEGAN writes to us his crude vision,  his undertaken visit to other realms - Crude Prophesy No. 1...very crude indeed, Mr Deegan...

Man & Wife on a Tuesday Afternoon - Various States



Eyeball In The Sky
...and then I looked up in the sky and saw a giant truck tire with a big ass eyeball in the middle of it, the eye rolled and looked at me, consequently I began to think it to be of no real importance, just a bit of indigestion causing a bad dream, but then it started talking saying: "Tell the fifteen tribes of Telamec to repent of their sins or the nations to the north will come down and kick all off their asses!"
    In response I said; "They're always doing that shit, tell me something new, magic eyeball!"
His eye rotated this way and that and he said: "For your insolence, we will put dirt on your head and ashes on your shirt and you will repent for thirty days while paying taxes, sending faxes and playing jack(es). So I proceeded to gather up my shit, pulled out my rubber ball and ten metal jacks, and shunning shampoo I pushed the send button and the IRS got theirs. My cigar released a wad of ashes down the middle of my white shirt and I faxed the lawyer the final documents of my integration.
    After all of these things they came to grab me and stone me for being a spirit medium. I said "Hold it your material-imperialness, it is the tire in the sky that spoke these things, not me!" They returned that I was the only one hearing these things - and thusly, most obviously, and most definitely are a witch, plus you are an asshole, and you must be tortured to death, - so what's it going to be, burning or stoning?
I said look up in the sky, see, THE TIRE! Then I punched the guy on the right in the throat and kicked the other guy in the nuts, the opportunity to escape actually materialized and I ran -  "like hell".
     They caught me and beat the shit out of me and were prepping me for a burning when all the sudden the TIRE FROM HEAVEN came down and ran all their asses over, flattening them and certainly bringing them to ruin - in a cartoonlike manner.
    So appreciative of my narrow escape - and to the best of my ability, I repented from being an asshole and continued for many years - but not without some other bullshit comin up ever' now and then, I mean, what the fuck??! When can I get a fucking break!

Deegan still has not mastered the finer art of communicating without using vulgar slang like some misbegotten scalawag, but we will teach him...



Bee by TMITH

Now we begin writing unproven and unprovoked thoughts, you squirm because you don't want to sit thru it but you must!

LaGonda - Final State

There was a time when we didn't have to tell people to drink water, they kinda just knew - Kirk out

Incomprehensibly Super Conscious

Cool Jacket - Affirmed

The Man in the hat wants to share his affirmations with you, we understand the thrust of his concept but begin to question his understanding of how the affirmation process works...

 

Affirmations

I'm so damn good I can barely touch myself.
I know you are waiting for me. But I, ah...ahhh... Oh, here I am to your relief, I lost myself for a second in a cosmic cloud of incomprehensible coolness. I don't mean to brag, actually I'm quite modest about all my capabilities and my capacity for understanding the nuances of the cosmic stroke, the uncanny effortlessness of my undeniable super-consciousness and the like, it literally takes your breath away.

     Wait a minute. That didn't sound modest at all. Here, let me say this, I'm not modest, I'm honest! Honestly unbelievably brilliant. No brag, just fact. Hold. Pause. Still yourself. I hear a drip, a dripping faucet. Somewhere there is a leak, but it has no bearing on my overwhelming virtuosity, my meteoric expression of absolute magnificence and my ability to relate even still to the meekest
mole grabber or the most galactical of the cosmos shapers. They hear me and become silently amazed at my sayings, but then again, who doesn't? My graphite pencil penetrates the crevices of the paper, paper blessed by the presence of my mind-body-arm-hand. The stylus pulses a sense of creation - ergo genesis, I say, of thought - the paper bleeds. This makes the peoples bodies vibrate at frequencies you can only begin to comprehend. And that's just for starters. Tomorrow I'll tell you what I just might actually DO.
     Affirming Love, Peace and especially, Humility,
     TMITH
Looks like The Man in the Hat has gotten a little overly in touch with himself... I reckon from time to time one needs to pump oneself up.  A lot.

Deegan thinks he knows all, to humor him we let him insert the first module of his electronic writing course in the Cosmic..
Deegan's Free Writing Course - Module One:
Unlike the Man in the Hat my humility knows no bounds, that is why I release to you my own uncorrupted guide to writing - from which you will benefit more in mere seconds of exposure than you would if you spent years at granite filled non-sensical institutions such as Oxford or Cambridge. The prize you begin to conceive of is at your fingertips, even now before your eyes pierce the first letter you have been expanded...BEHOLD!
(My thanks to TMITH for writing my intro, he does have a way with words don't he?)

Module One:
Write, write and write some more! Then do it again and again and again, but this time you gotta feel it, with all your senses, it's gotta wriggle along the skin of the back of your hand, you gotta smell it like an inescapable odor, you have to see it light up the back of your eyeballs and bounce thru your skull, the whole inner core of it must penetrate you to your essentials.
     Now, make the reader feel the same! See, there's nothin' to it!

Next Week Module Two: Penetratin' to the Readers Essentials!

Wife No. 8 from Utah

 

 

"Everybody wants to be structureless, until it's time to eat."

-Reynard

 

 

 

White Port, Lemon Juice and Ayn Rand

Pound Your Own Metal


"Lagonda, 2nd State" - by Ken

There is only is.
The is that will be and the is that was, but is no longer.
Prepare yourself.
Prepare the is that may or may not follow.
Who are you to judge?
Prepare the is of the following moment.
Everything and nothing is left to chance.
You are only given one hammer to pound
the red hot metal that is your life,
thoughtful swings, thoughtful swings.
Never stop until the metal grows cold and your
grip is insufficient. Do not pound someone else's metal.
That is someone else's is.

The Man in the Hat says:
Sounds like metaphysical mumbo-jumbo to me!
Z-Zen says:
That is fine if it is your delight - loan me five bucks.
 

Rapid Sketch by TMITH

White Port, Lemon Juice and Ayn Rand

Deegan Speaks!

W-P-LJ really tastes good to me...makes a good good wine that
really makes you feel so fine... - from the Frank Zappa song "WPLJ"

The next time that guy on the street asks for a buck or two to buy some White Port and lemon juice
you should go all Ayn Rand* on his ass, telling him how he should master his own destiny and not wait for hand outs from the government or anybody else for that matter. Explain to him that if he feels he was unfairly taken advantage of or life dealt him a bad hand, he deserved it for not being bright enough to avoid it. Then tell him that if you were to give him a few bucks the next thing you know he would be asking you to fetch him fresh lemons to go with the fortified wine and and a crystal goblet to mix it in because he feels "entitled" to quality.
Now if he hasn't gotten up and beaten the shit out of you before you finish, I would figure he
deserved to listen to your 1850's style social consciousness - and had it coming.

*Ayn Rand per popular political demagoguery

"The hills are alive with the sound of music, and Nazi troop carriers..." excerpt from rejected first draft of Julie Andrews song from "The Sound of Music"

Interview Girl!



"Typical Early Evening Drive" by Ken

In order to make ends meet, we put our girl out on the street!
Our receptionist Sally was getting bored, so we sent her out to glean pieces of meat from the gristle on the streets.

(Sally) What is your name?
They call me H.G.
Why are you homeless?
I was getting stale. They told me I had to get out of my comfort zone.
This homeless thing seemed pretty damned uncomfortable, so I tried it.
I can tell you firsthand that I would rather be back where I was...well I'm not sure
I kind of like the abuse - sleeping on concrete and rags and the mental cases
I run into. It really is quite something.
Didn't you think they meant a job, or perhaps a relationship change?
I didn't think of that, I only thought "out of comfort", in that I have succeeded
especially.
Why don't you get another job?
Nobody wants to hire me because they think I'm nuts  - and I guess they are
right to a certain degree you know? Kind of like a galactic pancake.
Oh, I uh, see. What are you going to do next?
I'm training my fleas to attack people I don't like or who try to cheat me.
You got that five dollars? My fleas are very sensitive!
Here you go HG. You certainly aren't your average homeless guy. Good
luck in your future endeavors, however they may pan out.
God bless you interview lady. I feel your essence and I'll give it a squeeze.

Encounter with the imminent eminent street entertainer
"You can't be successful doing that shit!" I said to the man doing a little dance on the corner of State and Wabash. He said "Who are you to tell me the truth of my being, is it up to someone else to define my success? I said " You need to make real money by defining and refining your act, you are very good, yes you are, a sidewalk is not worthy of your talent." He replied directly "You kind sir do not really know how happy I am, nor do you know your own happiness". After he shared the wisdom of the ages I began to see. Then he asked me for fifty five dollars. I was taken aback. Then he explained that beyond all thoughts he still required sustenance on the material plane. I explained that I was a little short on cash, but there was a McDonalds across the street. He said "I don't eat that shit!" and departed from me.

The Man In The Hat says...
Less time has been spent
on a mind so bent
refocus yourself
and pay the rent

The remnant of KIR-ALON!

Welcome DEEGAN The short story salesman...
Deegan writes little stories and tells us how he feels about stuff. We grafted him into Cosmic so we wouldn't have to pay him for his writing. Look out for his column "How I'm feeling right NOW!" in future posts. We are delighted to include his story "Remnant... " in this weeks issue.


Study For Painting No. 6

The Remnant Of KIR-ALON
Those biscuit eating critters of  Kir-Alon are back, smoking fat cigars on the patio of the hotel Darmuth and annoying all the other guests with their late night revelries. With a never ending assortment of call girls and peacock-escorts going in and out of the six-suite floor seven along with an indecent amount of booze, champagne and beer - comparable to the amount the Shriners of Gath consume (even though the Shriners outnumber them four to one), at any rate they are here.
Beyond that and merely considering those facts among others, I ran into Weinbak-8 on the south staircase, he stumbling and blubbering, reeking of alcohol, insisting to talk to me about "The Comparative Analysis"! What? Comparative analysis? Of What?!! I said. "I must speak to you and no one else". With that Mr. Weinbak-8 pulled out a wad of cash that for me would be more than six months wages. He pushed it into my palm and said "Let us recline on the patio". I normally might have pushed him down the stairs but with the cash in my pocket I became much more tolerant of him and the odor of the alcohol became more reminiscent of a dear old over-drinking uncle or something.
     It was early morning and the two of us sat down on the lounge chairs all alone on the patio which smelled of beer spilled hours earlier. I became aware of a danger that far outstripped the tidy sum of money in my pocket. At that point I said "Here is your money, I'm out." He replied "It is far too late for that, no sense in even trying. Keep the cash in expectation of many many times more - and listen extremely carefully, unless you desire to forfeit your life." I then considered flinging him from the railing so he could analyze the impact speed of a body falling to the concrete from the eighth floor, but I held myself in check, because for the first time in many forgotten seasons I felt completely alive... He then began, "The comparative analysis of life as we know it and the laws of the universe"... Blah blah blah, ecetera, ecetera, ecetera... I then realized he was just talking excrement in huge quantities and wasting my very precious time. I said summarily; "I'm throwing your drunk ass off this patio - right now." As I approached him he pulled out a switchblade knife and gave me a fleshwound across the collarbone, if I had reacted any slower it would have been my neck and I'd be dead on the patio tiles in an egg shaped pool of blood. I said, "I was only trying to scare you!" He replied, "How was I to know?!!". During this short and lively conversation  I pulled out my Mac 10 and with what sounded like a short drum roll in a two bit bar, I sprayed Mr Weinbak-8, making a diagonal line across his torso. Hell, the only thing missing was a cymbal clash at the end of it. I didn't see a spirit depart from his body - but I knew his ass was dead. At that point I decided to remove myself from the vicinity and  become a very religious farmer of sorts, you know - the kind without electricity. Me and my seven wives have lived out here for the last fifteen years with no violence save an errant horses hoof. We've had peace and I'm sure we'll have a dozen more years of it. You can bet you desperate life on it.

Reynard Speaks...
Life is the way it is. The pack of wild dogs downs the zebra and in order to get food before the larger predators come, chews the guts out of him while he is still alive. Is the Zebra loved any less or has the lion come too late? Then again... on the other hand I say piles of money are not a salve for the rich and the poor's chances are slim indeed, but unlike a dog, you need salvation and money...
And for our part we will get Reynard the medication he deserves

Uh, RATS

Goddamn Elves!

"Bootmakers Dilemma" by Ken

 

ELVES!

Dear Cousin Slinygran,

Greetings from Fornmost! Please hear my complaint.
I try to cast a nice spell or two on some godforsaken pastry chef or shoe maker - putting them against unbreakable or unmakeable odds and these goddamn elves show up overnight and undo all my hard work.
Let me give you an example.
 Pietro, a stubborn thick-headed mule of a bootmaker had the unfortunate luck of being noticed by the local overlord (my spell) who, admiring Pietro's handiwork and skill (and also seeing how much boot licking he would do) ordered 30 pairs of boots in, get this - ONE WEEK. Pietro said he would do it because basically, he's an idiot! My buddy the Troll King said he would fix things up if Pietro would hand over the fair, fair Isadora, who was his only child. Pietro wept and wept because the Troll King is a goddamn troll for cryin' out loud! Refusing to give up his daughter, Pietro worked until his hands bled - but only had seven pairs of boots ready the night before the overlord would come to collect. Regardless of the insanity of his request the overlord will be furious if his demands are not met.
Now finally I'm getting close to fun I want to see. In the morning Pietro gets his head cut off, the overlord takes seven pairs of boots without paying and the Troll king swipes Isadora! What joy!

But wait, no, out of nowhere overnight these goddamn elves show up, sewing and stitching and singing - and make twenty three pairs of boots, twinklin all the way! In the morning the overlord is so pleased with Pietro he gives him a box of gold and has his handsome son marry Isadora, the Troll King goes back to his hollow log and I just get to be totally disappointed.

It's a hell of a life.
You've got to help me do something about these goddamn elves. Really.

Signed,
Indolena
Witch of Maygdal, Fornmost, Suynden & intermediate areas