Toilet Readin'
This is some vintage stuff, mostly creative writing from 1999 at community
college - before I started the Anthropology program at UCSC. There is also a
poem and a traffic ticket defense letter to court. Perhaps I will add more if
I actually write anything worthwhile.
Dating and Mating Rituals of the Nacirema Tribe
Soft Spot
Random Acts of Mischief
Hanging Out
AutoBiography of a Quarter
Bonus Poem
My Traffic Ticket Defense
Dating and Mating Rituals of the Nacirema - A Cultural Anthrolopogical Perspective
I have now spent five years among the Nacirema peoples, who are strikingly similar to
my own, the Naidanac. They are mostly occupied with the movement of small green pieces
of paper, which cause many of them unhappiness. Many Nacirema are under a constant
hypnosis, staring at large lit-up boxes for hours during the day and night. The boxes
present many images and sounds to induce the hypnosis. Strangely enough, these are
simply pictures of the world outside. Because of these extremely introverted practices,
many Nacirema at the age of fertility are unskilled at the most basic human procedure,
the act of mating courtship.
Mating courtship rituals among the Nacirema are highly choreographed dances subject to
rigid customs and contradictory behavior. The male usually initiates first contact with
the female, although he is generally inferior at conversation, and in his nervousness,
mostly worsens his image to the prospective mate. To dispose of the man, the woman will
take his contact information. If her friends are busy, she may "call him", but this is rare.
In cases where the female is actually interested, the two exchange contact
information, although the female makes it clear through passive behavior that she
is not very interested. She will not use the information to "call" the male. It is
again up to the male to beg attention from the female. If she accepts, they will go
out on a "first date".
The first date is a mutually chosen activity, which is normally enjoyed by each, but
on this occasion is actually psychologically and physically torturing. Preparation for
the meeting commences in the ablution shrine, where the body is condemned of the natural
oils. These are replaced with powerful synthetic oils, which the Nacirema believe will
mislead the other into thinking they are a flower or sweet fruit, and come closer to
investigate. Both males and females scrub their mouths, and special oils are spread
under the arms. The females also spread no less than six colored and scented oils onto
various parts of their bodies.
The male picks her up around eight. Typically the pair will go out to have an expensive
meal prepared for them, although both are too nervous and lose their appetites.
Afterward they traditionally spend nearly two hours sitting silently in a large dark
room with several other new and seasoned couples staring at a large picture screen.
After that the date is nearly over. As they drive home, conversation ensues, and they
each try to be interesting but not out of the ordinary, exciting but not extreme,
funny but not unusual. If the woman is likes his smell, she may draw near enough to
touch his lips, thus leading to a "second date".
TOP
Soft Spot
Thump down, finally relax
and release for the day. It's late night come home for bed. In warm glow of
bedroom, artificial moon hangs out with electricity and manifests ambiance. Back lit scene where shadows stretch
forward, idle in time and space.
Sometimes light is pure white and shadows are empty black. Sometimes it's patio
lanterns and cartoon characters and sultry Maui in my volcano pad. In the room the largest positive figure is
a bed, a logical, graphic jungle ruled by
lack of design. Rippling sheets, wrinkled books, and torn clothing garnish the
bed. Low enough off ground to fall
into, maybe accidentally, but who's keeping track?
Sitting, laying on the bed and it's so easy, all fatigue sinks and seeps heavy, into the depression
from weight of my soul and body and life
which go on day to day, off night to night to suspend as mindbody in dream,
or heightened imaginative focus, or fleeting
reality in kodachrome, or super 8 projected on a cloud. Ranging typical to impossible, the lucent visions create
lucid fantasies and emotions.
Lying on back facing ceiling,
and open sky, and imagined heaven. Technical noise shuddering through the ceiling is actually sound blocking
styrofoam relief. Lying on stomach looking to ground, where it's darkest without
sun or moon, but in safe stability.
Lying on either side is fetal bliss, body glowing with relax, permeating and
insulating the cotton cocoon. Sheets
crumple and zip as I move around. Pull them up to cheeks and relax everything.
Now that glasses are off,
I interpret other signals. Outside the freeway never sleeps, but so gentle at
night, with waves of cars rolling
up then away. Sound effects of the cars' pitch raising and lowering mingle into
a quiet crackled hum. Louder vehicles
super cast their doppler message to my window. Some birds sing all night. No one knows why. By 3 am
their sounds become less of a thing of beauty and more of a sign of life.
It's dark for no distraction
and I wait to fall in. Thinking, wishing not for dreams but only for empty mind.Laying still on bed, slowly
sinking, mind not thinking of what it's thinking of.
the bed is a surrogate
coffin
deep dark breath and big
surrendering sigh
final voluntary breath
slides out and world fades to black
blending in with, loving
the bed
dead on the bed
----------------------------
in the morning - eyes
first open
reborn in sunshine
belonging to sun and day
and world
stuck to bed in magnetic
struggle
still paralyzed by strong
soul hugging sheets
TOP
Random Acts of Mischief
Do you like to be out of
the ordinary? Do you think it's funny to see a normal situation go awry? Know
this - city dwellers live according
to a schedule. They do the same things all the time - work, eat, shop, drive,
and watch movies. They are
always thinking of the next thing they have to do and in doing so live only
for the future, only to survive. In their
busy lives of consuming and discarding, people forget to have fun. The amazing
thing is that the same places
where the normal people go to lead their normal lives are actually arenas for
creative mischief!
Retail environments are
perfect for weird fun for many reasons. With all of the mega - stores in cities
today, the shopping landscape
has changed. They are so huge, clumped together in tandem like a mountain range,
or monolithic, sitting alone
in the open. None of the sales people in these places ever know what's going
on, and they are hardly ever around
anyway. Larger stores have more room to run around in, and there is less chance
of being noticed. Also, many
stores have more relaxed policies on people who act strange, because they try
to have great "customer service",
and get you back in their stores, and also because they don't really know what
to do or don't care that you're
on the PA system singing "New York, New York" in your best Sinatra.
Yes, spontaneous silliness and creative mischief are ways of making your life more real, as well as time
well spent with friends. Supermarkets
like Safeway and Albertsons are perfect locales. One time-honored tradition
is riding through the aisles in a
shopping cart. By yourself, you should fill up the cart with something heavy
like 12 packs of soda or tons of dog
food, then build up speed and jump on. Rough steering can be accomplished by
leaning to the opposite side you
want to turn to. But this sport is actually more fun with two people, and the
parking lot provides a larger venue. Take turns
pushing while the other person rides in the cart. Although most people have
tried this activity at some time
in their lives, not many people have done the following: sliding at high speed
on their chests down the long aisles of
the supermarket. Wear a thick fleece jacket, jeans, and good running shoes.
Pick an aisle with nobody in it
for your first few practice times. Run at a good pace, then swiftly, with your
arms bent and against, but not across
your chest, lean over, get your hands down on the ground, and ease yourself
onto the linoleum. It takes some
practice before you conserve all your speed through the transition. It may also
be easier to get back up while you
are still moving a little. People are really shocked by this one. They tend
to stare, confused, or just laugh
to themselves. Oh, it's also a good idea to put your keys and wallet in your
back pockets.
Another fun thing to do in a supermarket is mess with the displays. Like make up your own theme displays,
such as a tropical fruit one,
or tower of cheese, or pyramid of cereal boxes. Things that won't break when
they crash are the best, unless you
are good at it and really want to challenge yourself and freak people out. You
could also put meat in with the fruit
and vegetables, of vice versa. If you could somehow get an apron to make it
look like you work there, it would
add to the craziness. While you are doing all of this, you should eat everything
you can without being caught.
The bulk bins sometimes have candy bars or yogurt covered raisins. Eating the
food in a supermarket must always
be referred to as "sampling".
Multiple people can engage in traditional games such as hide and seek, tag, and competitive racing. Don't
worry that your hanging out in a supermarket or clothing store and not buying anything, or even shopping.
If the store is big enough, you probably won't be noticed. Although as players increase, the chances of being "caught"
also increases.
Just like any other reckless activity, if you do this often enough, you will get caught. What to do when
you get caught? Hopefully you will be having such a good time that you will be laughing when it happens. A
staff person will probably yell from down a hall, or come right up to investigate what you're up to. Making up a
witty excuse is fun, but the best way to deal with the staff getting you in trouble is to give them respect. Stop
what you were doing and move on. If you want to prolong the fun, take advantage of your new found situation and
get a chance to learn something you didn't know. Waste the staff person's time by trying to get to know them on
a personal level, or by asking difficult
and very mature questions, like "How many square feet is this building d'ya
think?", or "Why do you think a tomato is considered a fruit, not a vegetable?" or "Why do you drive on a parkway and
park on a driveway?". Getting caught is really not that bad, and the more that it happens, the more comfortable
you'll be with it, prepared to
take control of the situation.
Random acts like jogging
the whole time you shop (including through the checkout), shouting absurd words, or dressing up in wigs
and sunglasses and mingling with the staff and customers can be very thrilling.
Reading the headlines of the tabloids
gets people's attention in the check out line - i.e. "Did you hear about the
ten foot man that married a two and
a half foot woman?" Introducing animals to the retail environment can be very
thrilling. Dogs love to run around, and
have absolutely no reservations about being in a public place. Sometimes this
can be bad. Don't bring an animal
that will pee on the floor. That is just embarrassing. Also, don't bring animals
into a place that sells food. Something
else to try is having a guy try on women's clothes. Daring guys come out of
the change room to show their girlfriends
or boyfriends, to help make a decision.
You can trick the staff
in many places of business by asking them to show you where some item is, then
disappearing by the time they get there.
If you see them again, say "Where did you go? Don't worry now, I found it myself." Another way to aggravate
the staff is to ask for something above and beyond their usual robot like functions.
Compete with friends to substitute
things in orders. Like at a fast food place, you could order an ice cream, but
"instead of in a cone, could you put it in a
glass, and could you also maybe fill the glass up with root beer? Thanks a lot!"
You have succeeded if you didn't
have to pay any extra for the order.
Finally, to those who
have the youth and courage to attempt this sport, it is important to impart
the moral awareness of a prankster. The purpose
of these shenanigans is simply to have fun - to be weird for the sake of breaking
the monotony and predictability
of regular days. But while you abandon all of your social inhibitions, keep
in mind other shopper's mental and physical
safety, and their feelings. There is a thin line between being funny and acting
stupid, and you don't want to
push it (too far). If you consider damaging someone else's property fun, you
are not silly, you are STUPID! If you
go so far as to get the police involved, it makes a bad statement for fun-loving
mischief makers everywhere. Now that you
have read this introductory manual, you are ready to go into the retail playground
and make some fun. Remember while
you're out there to be safe, be creative, and be WEIRD!
TOP
Hanging Out
The other night, I
discovered a different place to be. I was cruising in my friend's car. It was
a perfect movie inside, with a big screen windshield, smooth freeway documentary,
set to an electronica soundtrack. Beat and bass line grooved us. The dashed
lines of the lane markers underneath entranced me, bleeding into solid tracks
as we flowed on across the city in our capsule.
My friend's a great driver. He has a 2000 Mitsubishi Galant, and it rides like
it's on air. On the freeway he always speeds- 80 or 90. He plays the soundtrack
loud. It's always house music, electronic with a constant intricate beat and
heavy bass line. With the sound inside filling up all the space, you have no
choice but to let it come in to you too. The music becomes you and you're pound
pound pounding ahead, relentless, fast and easy, and it's all part of the movie
of the freeway. It wasn't
real until I broke the seal and rolled down the window, then the world came
startlingly alive. Filled with shocking cold friday night air, the interior
became turbulent, and I stuck my arm out to fight the force of the wind. The
urge came over me to stick my head out there, to sense the energy and feeling
of it. My eyes burnt, drying quickly in between blinks. My face was numb with
sensory fallout. Like a dog I was just hanging out and feeling and breathing
and being. I had no ego in the fast forward but was full of awareness and concentration.
All I could hear was the rushing of wind against my ears, constant and powerful.
It was like static flowing over me, whipping by. I opened my mouth and it inflated.
The air was lively. It felt unlimited in quantity, and unrestricted to breath,
so clean and thin. I kept leaning out further, wanting more of my body to feel
the rush. At night,
all was deep blue tinted- the redwoods, blurred in my relaxed vision, the road
illuminated by headlight, and the sky, with it's intelligent glow. Reflections
and points of light kept catching my eye. Highlights flit off of chrome and
paint, headlights scanned the road, reflectors on the ground shot by. The innumerable
stars were. Cars slid ahead of us, some drifted away behind, but we were all
on the smooth fast track ahead. Looking around, it all flew by.
Then I heard the voice from the car. My friend Erik, the driver, was yelling
to see if I could hear him. I came back in and closed the seal. Then there was
a strange energy left in me, eminating out through my scalp, leaving my head
tingling in the plush atmosphere. As the warmth engulfed my face, I watched
the city unfold in front of us.
TOP
AutoBiography of a Quarter
Hello.
My name is Quarter Dollar. You usually call me Quarter, or Twenty-Five cents,
which is fine. I was born in 1974, at the San Francisco
mint. Before that - who knows? I spent the first year of my life as part of
a roll in a downtown bank. Of course, I don't
remember that far back; I was so young. I might as well have been in the womb.
When I finally got out - to circulate,
the world was so big - it made no sense. I didn't understand my purpose. But
I loved the feeling of traveling in a pocket,
especially when the wind was in my George Washington face, or Bald Eagle's wings.
And to pop out someplace unexpected
- anywhere in America really.
I was always paid special attention to by people. That's probably because I
am the most valuable of the coins - beside the rare Half Dollar
and Silver Dollar. I worked the arcade circuit for a few months in 79, moving
between pac man, the change machine,
and the then popular pinball games. Those days I never spent much time in pockets,
but if so, was being jiggled enthusiastically.
Then the cost of games in those places went up to three or four quarters, which
was a total rip off, and I had
to get out of the scene.
From the arcade I rolled to Vegas. I worked the winter of 1987, one long day
until the summer of 1994. Fed to a slot machine. Wait. Get
spit out. The best parts were all of the casinos, the flashing lights and groovy
carpets, getting sloshed around in a bucket
full of quarters, and the fabulous money sound we'd make kept me going. But
I was getting worn out - life in the
fast lane. There was alchohol everywhere, and I spent a lot of time at the bar,
and not just as a tip, if you know what I mean.
More like "tipsy".
After I got out of there, I took it easy, and enjoyed the simple things in circulation.
I went to Mexico. I bought beer. It made me feel important,
valuable. I had poker night with the guys. Sometimes IÕd be handed to a bum
or a street player. That always made my week.
A couple of years ago, I almost got seriously injured. A couple of boys, around
eleven or twelve, decided to put me on a railroad track,
wait for a train to come, and, perverted as it may sound, watch me get squashed
under it. For an hour I just laid there,
hoping they would get bored, and go buy sometihing. Stuck on the rail, I started
to shake. The train was on itÕs
way. My Old Washington's wig was standing on end as the I jittered uncontrollably
on the cold smooth steel. I wished
I was Tails up, so at least I wouldn't have to see it happen. The train clambered
toward, like a rolling sledge hammer.
The whistle shrieked! That was it. And! - at the last moment, the massive vibration
shook me loose, and I fell to the
gravel as the train roared overhead. The General was sweating bullets. The kids
were so disappointed that one
almost threw me into the woods. Thank God they didn't. Rusting slowly on the
ground would be a fate worse than the
quick and painless one I had just escaped. The other boy yelled not to chuck
me, that they could get tons of Ju Jubes
for a quarter at the corner store.
Not to make my life seem too glamorous or substantial. Just like every quarter,
I've had my long, boring years. Sometime in 1981, I was
saved in a jar for I believe four years. That also happened in 1998 until the
spring of 2000. Yeah, I missed the millennium.
That was a real bummer. In 1992 in New York, I was dropped at a newsstand and rolled into a gutter.
I stayed in the sewer system for 14 wet months, until finally getting through
the filter system and back into circulation.
That was one of the craziest trips ever. I'm just glad I canÕt smell. I mean,
it was disgusting. But that was what led
me to write my story - for when I am gone, and no one remembers me. But even
if these pages never get read, at least
I have been able to reflect on my circulation.
There are two fates for a coin. The arguably worse ending is you get lost in
the inevitable car seat or couch or even less retrievable place
like the woods or a storm drain. After you are lost, that's it. You might as
well be dead. You are of no use. Just darkness
and quiet - for years or centuries. Of course, if you ever do get found, you
may be extremely rare by then, and be treated
better than ever. But don't go and get lost hoping for that. The chances are
better than 50/50 you won't see the light
of day until you are way out of date, let me tell ya. The better, according
to most coins, is to get taken out of circulation.
It's like being given a new life- a reincarnation. See, us coins get taken out
every forty, or if we're lucky, fifty years.
We get melted down and made into brand new, polished ones.
Things are speeding up these years. Lots of frantic spending. As for me, I'm
still in circulation, and hopefully will be for a long time.
Life is filled with a lot of waiting and regularity, but with so many exciting
moments that happen unexpectedly - but at
the drop of a dime. I've go my share of scratches and dents - war wounds I call
them. I may be a little tarnished, but
I haven't got a spot of rust on me. I hope you enjoyed my story. Here's to improving
with age, and always landing heads
up!
TOP
Poem
y'know i ain't proud
of how i chew aloud
its the doglike sound
of my teeth gnawing up and down
and the squish of juice
when my gums cut loose
thats makes you quiver and deliver
a sick face and back shiver
so sorry i chew
louder than you
taint really wrong
my mouth muscles is strong
they gotta be free
to work efficiently
the first stage of digestion
makin me a bad impression
TOP
Defense of Traffic Ticket
--Its pretty cool. out
here, you can fight a ticket by "written declaration". you dont ever
have to go to court for it,
and most of the time, if you bother to do it, they at least lower the fine.
10/27/00
Municipal Court of California
Santa Clara County Judicial District
Traffic Facility
935 Ruff Drive
San Jose, CA 95110
Case: H02220289
Citation: LQ07394
On
09-30-99, at 7:20 a.m., I was travelling north on Lawrence Expressway, on my
way to the Lawrence Caltrain Station, off of Kifer
Rd. I planned to exit at Kifer Rd. About 200 ft before I reached Monroe, the
street before Kifer, I changed lanes, from
the second from the right, to the right most lane. Although the right most lane
is marked as a carpool lane, there are signs
above it written in red lights that read "EXIT OK". Because of the
heavy and fast moving traffic during rush hour, I try to get
into the exit lane a safe distance ahead. Page 51 of the 1999 California Driver
Handbook states: "When you plan to exit the freeway,
make sure to give yourself plenty of time. You should know the freeway exit
you want as well as the one that comes before
it". The section of the handbook discussing carpool lanes doesn't mention
Exit/Carpool lanes, or any distance regulations
for entering and exiting them.
I believe I acted
in the safest manner for myself and other drivers, and used the special lane
properly. I therefore request that this charge be dropped.
***Epilogue***
Check this- the carpool violation ticket out here is $271 !!! Holy Boboli! and
that was my second one - that month. The first one really was my fault. Of course,
they didn't drop the charge. But it was lowered to $100. Just goes to show,
you cant fight City Hall. Oh yeah. I was so mad at the cop - I called him an
asshole, and when he gave me the ticket i said "fuck you very much!"
TOP
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