As Holes Are

Sometimes credit is given and sometimes no credit. In the theory of shared responsibility, one man is the universe perceiving itself. This short story predicates that. One circle is drawn inside another quite easily, as is another inside the first and many are inside more than just the first, as can be done still quite easily. One person draws a circle, but he can not draw a hole. So, he takes his paper and his pencil to an expert shoemaker, who also could not draw a hole because he had never done it before and had long ago given up the privileges afforded by unusual thought for the comfort of established normal behavior.

But, he thought that a shoe is hollow if he takes it off in the morning. So, he asked for a broken shoe that the cobbler/shoemaker might have, and he put tuppence in it. He stared at it for a long time. He realized that rather than draw he should cut, and when he did he had a hole. But holes are quite not as easy as circles, and he could not cut inside his hole. Again he stared at the tuppence in the cobblemaker's spare shoe--suffice it to say, that the cobblemaker did not give to him the shoe to own, but he accepted nevertheless that his activity with the spare shoe would do no more than annoy an annoying shoemaker, to explain the compartmentalizing that is going on.

An half hour later he cut two intersecting slits in a piece of paper and laughed because intersecting they were not holes. They were a hole, but not two holes. But he knew he cut them differently. He had had to turn the paper over so he could cut with his right hand both holes. Unfortunately the cobblermake guy did not believe him even though he-him could not write with his left hand. "I don't know if you can write with your unicorn hand, or not. I can't even prove that there are no left hands even though I have no hands nor eyes. When my wife baked me a cake that the dog ate before it I could eat, I did not believe that cake exists. I will not believe cake exists until I taste one before my dog. I am afraid because I do not know where the taste of the cake will go after we eat the cake. I do not even know where the tastes of the other cakes would have gone. Everything points to more dimensions. The parts of the alleged cake must as well have begun passing before I even noticed the interesting smell as not. And eventually my wife will use all her flour. My apprehension doubles because I do not know if she can still bake a cake with new flour. Everything points to more dimensions . . . My greatest fear is cake with eyes and even worse is no cake without eyes. The worst is nothing without eyes except me. I don't need eyes if there are eyes."

So, he knew that his two holes must point into the room one from each side of the paper. But a hole within a hole, inside another hole? As holes are holes two. He smiled. "If only I had more sides there then with three. Three of them, one each, not one not. All as holes are holes all."

Eight Guys Reading the Same Book, Guys

So there's these eight guys piled on a love seat reading a Hardy Boys novel. Luckily, they're all about ten or eleven years old, so it is acceptable for them to read this book, though also understandable to question their taste even at this age because even in their small frames, the eight of them on a love seat is an unpleasantness they willingly endure for the suspense and thrill of this Hardy Boys novel. They are in love with the story, and in a natural way take turns reading. They are no rules for taking turns, but one guy's voice will start to lull in enthusiasm, after a bit, where the earnest impatience of another guy will cause him to reinsert the enthusiasm through his voice. Why there is never a conflict for a turn may seem like a mystery, but the conflicts are also avoided naturally: the eight are friends, but naturally they do not hang out or play most frequently in a group of eight. The smaller tighter groupings have a natural speaking order, especially in this instance, where the enthusiasm to speak is specifically aroused by the voice of one other either directly or from learning to wait for the more insisting one, patterns learned over time spent together in other situations. The tighter groupings have some mixing, so the eight are all connected, and the patchwork of the tighter groupings fits seamlessly as all speaking order conflicts have been resolved for each relevant combination of guys.

So anyway, they do this long enough that they actually finish the book. They're all fully satisfied and content since it was an awesome sound, but now they bring out the Playboy magazine. What a plan! Now all natural orders are irrelevant, even though they do read the articles, preteens as they are. Still, all conflicts are resolved by probability. The probability that any one of them loses enthusiasm for staring at the naked boobies is low enough that reading and page turning conflicts seldom occur and immediately dissolve into booby staring when they do occur.

Nelkins says, "Sir, c'mon, that makes no sense."


"Oh my fuck, I swear God is picking on me."

"What? Does he really think God is picking on him? Seems like clumsiness to me."

"No, I don't know. No, I mean I used to think the same thing, I don't question him anymore, ever since the time I saw him making horchata. He poured the rice milk in his glass, then went to put away the container, but there was just a little left, so he's like, 'Eh, I'll just use it up.' So he goes to pour it in his cup just completely normally like anyone would," he's making the pouring hand motion for rice milk from a quart size carton, "and literally the last of the milk jumps out of the opening just over the glass onto the counter. And he just looks at me like 'so do you believe me now?' And I was like, 'Uh, yes.'"

Now, the guy in question is looking at the picture menu on display at this fast food place where they are. "What's this! You have hand-scooped ice cream! I don't believe it, it's absolutely ludicrous."

"Uh, yeah we do."

"No. How would you even do that? With your hands? You actually scoop the ice cream out with your hands holding an actual scooper. What is this the eighteenth century or something?"

"Yeah, it's right in the back in the freezer, I'll just scoop it out."

"You would have me believe that there are actually commercial grade scoops that any restaurant can just order for use by personnel to scoop ice cream?"

"Do you want one? I'll give you one for free, and you can watch me scoop it."

"What's the catch? What'd you do to it? Is it made out of evil?"

"You could take me to a movie."

"Well, alright then."

"So, are you gonna come watch me scoop it?"

He just stares at her out of the top of his eyes, and she gives out a high pitched belly laugh.

This is a Paid Advertisement, Another MySpace Achievement

Government employers have conceded that state and federal penitentiaries are indeed a collection of state and federal agencies employing thousands. In fact, we are the government employers, though we employ beyond thousands, as not all government employees are inmates. However and again indeed, government is a managed system to keep a lid on the degenerate vessel of man. In both its structure and action, it controls misdirected testosterone. Someday, it will be unnecessary as we learn to police ourselves through word of mouth, free will, and passivity.

This advertisement has been paid for by The State of Utah and the Congress of the United States. Further communication will be billed as Public Service Announcements (PSA AMA).

The Accused will stand forth.  Passive Aggression: Guilty.

Penis Colossus

The Tandy Affair

So there's this older mature woman. She's a semi-famous mystery writer, and she looks very distinguished and mature but still good natured with a hint of child-like wonder. Anyway, she goes to visit her friend who's sick and needs some semi-major surgery, in the English countyside. It's semi-major, but there's the off chance that she might need a kidney, and this is just the sort of issue for an older mature woman to deal with since people want to know what to do in these touchy situations, and usually these older intelligent women have respectable solutions that we can live with.

Anyway, when she's there, there's a murder and since last time she was there there was a murder she helped solve, since she's a mystery writer and stuff, the local police detective reluctantly asks her for help. The detective is happy to see her and all, but he just doesn't like asking for help because he's a stubborn older man and a little bit sexually attracted to our older woman. So, she's here sort of juggling scenes between her friend and solving the mystery amidst this beautiful countryside, and her older male second hand man who seems to follow her everywhere for some reason and helps her solve mysteries in a friendship-based support capacity, is there too.

So, it turns out same as last time, the butler did it. And this lady's really good, and she pieces a lot of random clues together, so everyone's sure she's right. It's just that this town has the worst butler luck ever.

Six Guys in a Mail Sorting Facility, Guys

So there's these six guys in a mail sorting facility, all standing in a row about ten feel from a conveyor belt streaming with all types of mail. It's the incoming unsorted mail.

So, coincidentally, the first one to speak is the first in the row. It's not uncommon that people speak in an order, one guy just more able to hear the ones closest to him, so he pays more attention to them, responds to them, and in turn they address him. So, it's not odd that they speak in turn, standing in this row. It is funny that they actually speak in the order they're standing in. It's because they don't speak often, so when one does speak, it picks up and goes down the line, always in the same direction, never backwards since that's how the speak-response mechanism settled. The really funny part is at the end of the line. For some reason, the first guy wanted to be next to the last guy originally, so he's making an effort to pay attention all the way down the line, and when the last guy speaks, he picks it up. The really coincidental thing, really there's no reason for it except maybe he's had the longest time to think about the last thing said, is that they also take turns, in order, being the first guy to speak.


So, the first guy's like, "Man, that sure is a lot of mail." Then in order, "Yup," "Yep," "Yup, " "Yup, " and "Yep."

Then the second guy's like, "It's kinda like watching your life pass by, one piece of mail at a time." Then, in order starting with the third guy and wrapping back to the first at the end of the line, "Yep," "Yup," "Yup," "Yep," and "Yep."

Then the third guy's like, "Each mail is different, so it's like the people in your life passing through a few at a time," and "Yup," "Yup," "Yep," "Yep," and "Yup."

Then the fourth guy's like, "Yeah, and the people are kind of like ants, just sort of mechanically going through their own lives, with us passing though theirs," and "Yup," "Yeah, I guess I can sort of see that," and "Yep," "Yup," and "Yep, hey pass me another beer."

Then the fifth guy's like, "Yeah, and the ants are sort of like people too, but they just care about different stuff, and they're all just sort of focused on similar jobs. I saw on the nature channel that they manage disease by carrying out the fellow ants who are sick with a deadly fungus. It's like we're not alone in the universe, who knows what other intelligent systems are out there?" and "Yeah I can see that, too I guess," and "Yep," "Yup," "Yep," and "Yup."

Then the last one's like, "You know, I was watching this movie the other day, and one guy said something funny, but when you think about it, I think it actually has some postmodern significance to it. He was like, 'What if C A T spelled DOG?" and "Fag," "Fag," "Fag," and "Fag."

Seven Guys in a Dimly Lit Room, Guys

The night was shadowy, even downright dark and moonless. More importantly, there were these seven guys in a dimly lit room watching a scary movie. The movie was really scary, scary like a foot growing off some fat guy's neck in your doctor's waiting room, where you have to wait for a really long time. And the foot's kind of big, and you have to wait for a long time, and since the only empty seat is next to him, you have to take that one, and the foot's so big it's like right next to your ear, where you can't keep an eye on it, and with the slightest movement of either of you, you're gonna have a stinky toe ear. Yeah, like right in your left ear. And it's like a normal foot too, and the toenails smell weird, and somehow it even has callouses. You're like 'What the fuck, does he put shoes on it or something,' and you almost ask him, but you tell yourself to fuck off. That's how scary this movie is.

So, anyway, these seven guys are watching this movie, and one's like, "What the fuck? He's so stupid, why wouldn't he just turn on the light before going down there?" Then at another point, one guy tries to be sarcastic when something was so campy that it was funny, so he's like "Yeah good one, lame-tastic." Then later, one guy asked if they could pause it while he went to the bathroom, so they turned on the lights and everyone stretched their legs a bit. There wasn't that much room to walk around, so one of them tripped over another guy's leg, but they were okay. Another guy got more water.

Then, all of a sudden this heavy truck goes by and shakes the whole apartment, and the one guy comes back from the bathroom with pee on his trousers, and he's like, "What in the fucking House of Manatee was that?" And the other guys are like, "You're mom," so this one guy's like, "Yeah, that was probably your mom going for a walk." Then another guy's like, "No, your mom is the one who is fat. My mom's not fat. Your mom is the one who is fat." Then out of no where one guy who wasn't even talking just got really pissed off at the last guy and just went at him, and they're just wresting hard core, the one guy really truly pissed off and the other just trying to defend himself. And this guy's seriously really pissed, and his face is turning red. It was like he was schizophrenic or something and thought the guy was making deep personal attacks on his mom. When they finally got him off, one of the guys is like, "What the fuck? R-U schizo or something?" And the guy's like, "No, it's Multiple Personality Disorder, or MPD. Are you making fun of my grandma now too? I am Zeus' fury!" The the one guy's like, "Fuck U, man, at least U have a gramma." Then another guys was like, "It's okay, man, I know what it's like to not have a gramma, 'cause I don't have one either. They were both killed in the same car accident when they were going to a restaurant to meet my parents for dinner. They hadn't met yet, and they were actually in separate cars and crashed into each other on a left turn when one of my grandmas turned into the wrong lane." Then yet another guy was like, "Hi, my name is Gus, and actually I still have both my grammas, but it sucks 'cause they're mean and they smell like bouillon. Plus they live together, so it's like twice the bouillon." The still another, "Yeah my one grandma smells like bouillon, too. It's really bad, 'cause I'm allergic to bouillon, like really allergic. It makes my eyes water, and I get hives on my penis and genitals."

Not all of them had spoken, so they were all just standing there looking at the last two guys who hadn't said anything about their grandma's yet. Finally, one was like, "I didn't want to say anything since my grandma really is fat." Then the last guy was like, "Uhhhh, how 'bout we get back to the movie?" So, they put the lights back down, and everyone got their own seats back, including the two who didn't have grandmas and who were in the darkest part of the room secretly holding hands.

Grand Champion Major Cupcakes
Passed away this monday in his sleep after major trauma.
The obituary as it will appear in the Tribune is below.

Major Cupcakes was not only a champ, but a grand champ. He got the name 'Cupcakes' after a heroic rescue of three National Guardsman and a small girl from a fire set by an arsonist on a National Guard office during the War. Not only did he save four people, but also a tray of cupcakes for the young girl: the extra sugar raised her serotonin levels which helped calm her down.

Lest the origin of his name mislead anyone, let it be said that the Major's acts of bravery, generosity, and heroism do not end there. We may recall from the news reports when he stopped a bank robbery by climbing over ceiling panels and jumping a gunman from above. And of course, the oft recalled tale of the time the Major helped secure the remaining two thousand votes for the gay rally petition to allow people to congregate in the main square for the gay rally, will never be forgotten by our much beleaguered gay community.

We all know of course that there are many more deeds worthy of recounting, but also of course, that is not really why we all love and remember Grand Champion Major Cupcakes. We remember him for the kindness, love, and affection he had for all of us. He always had time and an ear for any one here. Every sunday and at every function he was at Church, possibly more consistently that Father Duncnutz, mingling and helping to hold our community together. Any one of us could visit on any given night, share a meal, and sit on the porch with the Major listening to crickets or telling him our problems.

So let us not dwell on the untimely manner of the death of Grand Champion Major Cupcakes. Not only would Grand Champion Major Cupcakes not want that, but in no case can a ten year old girl legally be held responsible for running over our beloved cat with her bike. Let us instead focus on what Grand Champion Major Cupcakes has given to each of us.

One Guy in a Waiting Room, Guys

So there's this one guy in a doctor's waiting room. He went there to sell magazine subscriptions 'cause he was a grad student at the U in need of more money for food. While he was there he was also intending to ask the doctor to identify the spot that recently appeared on his skin, since the doctor was a dermatologist. Of course his U insurance probably wouldn't cover it, but that's beside the point and while he was worrying about it, another guy walked in to wait for an appointment.

"Hey, how long have you been waiting?"

"Oh not long, just an half an hour."

"Yeah this doctor's always running slow, even when there's no one else here."

"So, you've been here before, I mean, the doctor does exist?"

"Well of course he exists. This is his waiting room after all. This is usual, I always end up waiting a long time. He definitely exists, though. Looks like you could use some new socks, by the way."

"Yeah, they got holes in 'em, but I can't afford new ones. That's one of the reasons I'm here, to try to sell the doctor some subscriptions."

"Where's your other boot?"

"Oh, well, I think I lost it on the way here. Hey, have you seen the nurse?"

"Oh yeah, there he is now. He's just the receptionist, actually, the doctor's nephew."

"Hey, kid, is the doctor here?"

"Oh yeah, he said he'd be here shortly. He's just busy at the moment and wants me to tell you to wait a minute."

"Alright, well you tell him we're waiting."

"Okay. See in you a minute."

"Hey, Guy, what do think we're really waiting for?"

"Uhh, hell, I don't know. Nothing I can figulate."

"Figulate? Is that a word?"

"Yeah, it's a word, I looked it up."

"Figulate, huh? Maybe I should start using that word."

"Oh yeah, it's a good word. You should use it. You'll sound smart."

"Okay I will. How much longer do you figulate we'll have to wait?"

"I don't know, but I don't like your tone or the way you said that word, so I'm leaving. Why couldn't you just wait patiently like the rest of us?"

"Oh yeah, you'll be back."

So the guy who arrived later leaves, then comes back an half hour later.

"Hey, you're back, I'm so glad, I was getting bored."

"I guess I still need to see the doctor."

"Hey, do you remember that kid who was here a bit ago. He had a strange face, don't you think?"

"Huh? What kid, I don't remember any kid."

"The receptionist? Oh, never mind. You know, we've been waiting for hours, maybe we should just leave."

"If I leave, then I'm not coming back tomorrow without rope."

"Yeah, good idea. You should pull your pants up for now though, they keep falling down without the rope."

"Hey, thanks for the advice man. Hey, man, knock knock."

""Huh? Who's there?"

"Your best friend forever, man."

"Your best friend forever, man, who?"

"I love you, man. Man, see you tomorrow. Owww, I just got something in my eye."

"Okay, man, SEE YA."

So, there's these two guys in a life raft in the middle of the ocean.  Its a really big life raft from a huge cruise liner, and they're sitting on opposite ends.  They ended up on there because most people on the ship were asleep, and they were really drunk, taking the piss out of the on duty crew.  Anyway, one guy's like, "Dude, what are we gonna eat?  You think we can use these fishing poles way out here?  Well, I guess we should try."

So he casts his line out and takes a nap.  Suddenly, he's awoken when something actually bit his line.  It was a marlin.  He didn't really know its relative size, but all marlins are big and this thing's dragging him really fast even farther into the middle of the ocean.  He's going really fast too, bouncing all around and almost flipping over.  It's really crazy. So, after a few hours the thing has slowed down, and he manages to shoot it with a harpoon.  It was a good shot, and it dies immediately.  But now he's in the middle of the ocean somewhere, who knows where.  Before at least he would've been seen by a passing ship on that cruise route, but now he's way out the the real middle middle of the ocean.

With nothing else to do though, he just eats some of the marlin, and the blood eventually after like a day, attracts some sharks.  Now he's like, "Oh my Dad, these sharks are not getting my marlin," so he figulates that he kinda knows what direction the cruise route is in, and decides to go that way.  So he just fixes the motor in that direction and uses the spare paddles and harpoons to keep the sharks away from his marlin.  Still, there are a lot of sharks by now, and they freakin keep following him, and by the time he sees another ship between him and the sharks the marlin's pretty much gone.

So the crew of the ship hoist him and the rest of the life raft up, and he's like, "Monica Allen, that's a weird ship name, but Dude look at this marlin skeleton I caught."  And they're like, "Uhh, cool dude, why does your volleyball have a face drawn on it?"