The Message Column

Merry Christmas!

some new stuff today.

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Daddy, is it true that
Spaceship Snow man
is over 15 stories tall
and is a giant shoppingmall
that flies through the gallaxy
advertising New teashirts and movies
to the whole universe?

Not sure but I heard it might be
150 stories tall, but it mayhave been
1500 stories tall. Or maybe even
bigger than the moon
because
Spaceship snowman
can expand and contract
with the technologie of bubble-bine turbo woven
fullerine electromechanical cloth

Oh, that's a lot to know on Christmas Eve.

Don't worry their won't be a test . . .

Christmas at Space Mall Santa

With famous bear love-chub producer as an adorible

Santa. Ahhh hhh

I've got all these stories, that I wrote a long time ago. And some very recently. They are voluminous. I keep them on theme. I make sure that I edit them so that they make sense, not like what I put here. This is usually preedit, and thus take no worry if you don't like what I say, maybe it's a misspelling? Or I made a mistake and deleted a line. Or, if I didn't, and you don't like it, that is your perogative. But not your call to tell me what I need to edit on my site. See how surly I am.

Ya, I'm surly and that is my problem so I know to stay away from anyone who might care. There are not that many of them. Usually it's a stranger. It's a stranger.

It's a stranger and you're surly at the mall (not you, this is the non-sexist thirdperson singular you). And you bump into someone. He's even more surly. And now gender matters becasue if you are both men, then, and you ran right into him and made him spill his tray of diamonds so that they shower off into the open air of the mall, like so much tincell (it is the holidays) and glitter, falling off into an inderterminant space, and since it's just a story (no real diamonds are showered upon an eager crowd) you aren't even sure how many floors up you are. If I were to do it it would have to be at least 7 stories up, and another 7, or more, beyond that, Christmas story. Suddenly they aren't surly anymore. The diamonds, oh those Christmas diamonds. And the throngs of throngs of shoppers in a throng (not a thong, now that would be rediculous, throngs in thongs. Or throngs in a single thong. That would have to be a giant thong. And then they might all break out into song. And this is not a song, but a rather long . . . paragraph. See I don't need to rhyme, I just do it some time (so) you can have a laugh at the end of my paragraph (I used the same word twice and maybe that's not supposed to be good poetry, but you know: all poetry sucks to someone.)

Well, so, all I had to do was to spill some imaginary diamonds off into the giant sky of a mall that is at least 14 floors, with open balconies. My guess is that such a mall would be in space, like if the movie was about Peace. And the resources that were used to make the giant spaceships would have been insteead been used to make giant spaceship-malls, kind of like the myth of snowflake spaceship snowman (which if you were reading this a few days ago you'd have caught it). Well, anyhow, I saw 'the movie' that everyone wants to see. And it did have an awful lot of violence. But here it is: imagine the same universe, where you can go anywhere (at all) in the Gallaxie (of millions of millions of worlds and clusters of worlds) in just a small instance in time from here to eternity (that was a different movie) in just a thought (thank the Moody Blues liricist for that thought): the speed of thought. Imagine that same universe where instead of war and giant weapons rendered for the viewing public, they would render, like Mall Rats in space. I'd put Kevin (if you have to ask which Kevin . . . I guess that's fair (there are a lot of Kevins)) Smith on the design team for the space mall rat ship. Or imagine if there were a halfpipe all the way around the whole earthy but only it was way up in the sky and you took a space elevator up to it and then you could travel anywhere you wanted to as fast as thought (and it wouldn't be a movie). so there would be a time factor. But imagine it: in space, a giant hollow tube of ice and snow on the inside so that you can literally ski forever, there would never be a bottom of the mountain because the whole thing loops back around, and, after all you are in orbit. But I suppose space depree. But if it's a movie, and you've rendered your spaceship snow man and you've put the celebrity in the picture, ignoring all decorum and copyright and getting him really really pissed-off and so he comes charging up the highway and bringing a Posse of New Jersey all the way to the Natick Mall, and on Christmas Eve, how dare you put me in your stupid blog and paste a meme of spaceship snowman with my face on it and make me look like I have something to do with it when I don't . . .

He's welcome to come to Natick. He might not be able to find a place to park at the mall. There is a bus you can take to go there too, if you want to.

Anyway, I did love the Star Wars movie. Disney did a tribute to all of the good parts of the original movie, the one that you can only watch if you have lucky access to a VHS copy of it (my friend has one, years ago I begged him to keep it and he did

  Praise     Praise     Praise
   the        the        the
   Lord       Lord       Lord
  for    for    for
 Christmas  Christmas  Christmas
  welcome to The Message Column!

      🖐♥♥Love♥♥🖑
      ♥♥🖑Cops🖐♥♥

      

On Message is off

Ho ho ho

        Bellowed with true jolly

Worried about Christmas ghosts? Falling asleep with the Halmark Channel on? Next thing you know you'll be married to a difficult spinster.

Next on Channel Neather, a holiday christmas fab-a-ganza. Gay wad mid life total-queen (from Worcester county) falls asleep with the TV on and next thing he's in a magic fairy land (what other kind?) of Christmas/Holiday magical marriage for Christmas to a handsome stranger. But the writers that year were sick of the genre and the theme of happy marriage christmas, and instead decided to insert a bit of depravity: he's dreams that he'd have the live that he never had, suddenly he's a handsome young thing again but he's, gulp married to a Shicksta. And not just any Shicksta, but a Shicksta godess. He would never have been friends with such a person, what with all his gross sterotypes about them, and the fact that he would even think with the word 'Shicksta', use them in a sentence, even if it were only a parody story about Christmas and falling asleep with the television on.

Because how could he be having this dream? Becasuse he certainly isn't even gay. Just in the dream. And he surly doesn't live in Worcester county. He's not even sure what state that's in. And he certainly never would ever really use the word 'Shicksta', even in a dream.

But that's what dreams are. They take you to the far away place. You can't ever really be anyone else. But maybe you think in a completely different way. Far fetched plots of movies that are playing the background while you while away the passing moments of life in a semi-dream like state, believing in unbelievible people, accepting writing assignments for stories that just aren't ever going to be hits. Far fetched, just keep on writing. Who cares if anyone reads this.

He wakes from his semi-daze. He walks to the television and rips the plug out of the back of it. This knocks it against the hanging tinzle and gives him a little bit of a scare. Afterall, it's just a movie. It's just a bad dream. It's just a rancid story idea for a movie that will never be made: Ghosts of Gay Land Christmas

The myth of the story of the making of the movie, from the novel of the same name, The Ghosts of Gay Land Christmas, Being But a dream within a dream within a paradoy teleplay that never actually gets written.

So what do people choose to do with their idle mid-winter hours? Watch too much television? Worry about the problems with the other people of the world?

But I still do worry about Christmas ghosts. And I don't think ghosts still have a sexuality. Now there is a story. "Now that the hormonal attraction is over, there's nothing. I feel nothing." Naw, I don't like it. The guy would still love his love even when they are dead. The idea of sex wouldn't be part of it. It's a mystery, best left outside the story because it can only be overly false.

Well, I do think about the various genres of holiday movies. And it's a curious kind of industry, this spinster Christmas genre. Ya, we'll probably get another couple hundred of these, like they used to do the detective made-for-naptime movie of the weeknight, back in the 1970's. Every so often a show would get it right, a crew of writers would make the stories less false (I can't say 'more real', be cause in fiction that isn't real). And so we don't just throw it all away, becuase some of it was schlock . .

So, well, if you read this far, I guess, I can now wish you a Merry Christmas!

 🖐
 hello!
 

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Spaceship Snowman Holiday Freakout

🖐♥♥Love♥♥🖑
♥♥🖑Cops🖐♥♥

      

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Remember the Sultana!

April 27, 1865

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     oh those arbitrary frames!
      spinning, but not this line.
     
spin me a yarn neon
spin me a yarn neon
spin me every where but not here!
   photo pile!
   
 Done That!
 
 
 

When she takes her time
she's always real good with her rhyme

 

Most stories aren't that interesting.
It's someone who needs to find a cheese grater.
Or someone has to chase a receipt that gets taken by the wind
they skimper and skamper across some frazzy field full of weeds and fallow things
the detritus of the last few centuries, the
carcass of a . . . . 

Most stories are just someone
flipping a channel, a bird
flies in front of the windshield and
he doesn't hit it. It flies away
unharmed.

Most stories are like someone
forgets that they left the baby in the car seat and
they get all freaked out about it and they
rush out to their car and
the baby is there and the
dog is watching it the whole time from outside the car
and everyone is safe
including the baby and the
one who left the baby there feels
some guilt and
next time
doesn't make the same mistake.

Most stories are he goes to the stores
buys what he needs
brings it home
or he goes to the field
harvests what he needs
or he plants some seeds.
Then he has to transplant them
And the ones that the rabbits can get at
don't really grow that well.
And the ones that he puts in pots way up high
grow much much better.
And peas
that are planted in the shade
don't do very well
cut down a tree
cut down the idea of cutting down a tree.
It's a great big tree.
they are all great big trees.
too many needles, not enough vacuum.
That is the only word that I know which has two u's in it side by side.

In Wicked Need of an Edit

🚛 🎓 🎔 🌀

Political and Media Inanity

Truck-u-later

You're hired!.

Don't we all want to hear that. I'd like to hear it soon.

Dec 17, 2015

We sure do need a billion dollar idea.

At the end of the play everyone gets to go home, don't they?

She might be a faux-hadi if . . .

Her bridal registry is at a gun shop

they are laughing so hard that no body can hear them

  Praise     Praise     Praise
   the        the        the
   Lord       Lord       Lord
  for his    for his    for his
 unfailing  unfailing  unfailing
   love!      love!      love!

  well, nothing more here today.