gilligan and maryanne

MARY ANNE
You better be careful, little buddy. Ginger's not going to want you forever, and when she DOES reject you, and you KNOW she will, you're going to be one sad, lonely first mate.
GILLIGAN
Mary Jane, get off my back! You've been after the Skipper the entire time we've been on this island, and where did it get you? Every time you try to get him to spend some time with you, you wind up crawling back to me. Well, it's got to stop. And if you mess things up between me and Ginger.
MARY ANNE
It's not: you and Ginger; it's: Ginger and you.
GILLIGAN
I'm warning you, Mary Anne; I'm not going to let you mess this up.
MARY ANNE
Well, Gilligan, maybe I ought to warn you!
GILLIGAN
What is it this time, Mary Anne?
MARY ANNE
If you haven't already noticed, the Professor has been driving pretty hard for Ginger.
GILLIGAN
Ginger doesn't love him, Mary Anne, she's using him--always has been.

roaches dialog

"What do you think of roaches," Kenny asked, still standing at the door of his flat in his t-shirt.
"What do you mean: what do I think of 'em," Stan replied, "I thought we were going to go out," looking over at Nancy who was standing in the middle of the hallway looking a little nervous.
"How stupid of me, c'mon on in," Kenny invited them--swinging the door open wider, turning his back absently momentarily.
"What do I think of roaches," Stan mimicked.
"I hate 'em," Nancy entered--having decided to have fun with the question.
"You hate the roaches," Kenny responded to Nancy (affirming).
"Who doesn't hate roaches?" Stan asked, "I mean c'mon, they're disgusting. When I see one I want to step on the thing."
"No matter how much we hate the roaches, no matter how universally disgusted we are by them, the roaches will never care if we hate them, and, do you want to know why? Kenny asked, looking back evenly between Nancy and Stan.
"You're asking me if I want to know WHY the roaches will never care if we hate them?" Stan asked looking Kenny square in the eye--feeling a little stupid for seeming to take this as seriously as Kenny was implying he should.
"What do I know about what roaches care?" Stan asked--looking over at Nancy for a second. "I don't think about 'em."
"Yeah, I mean, I don't think the roaches care about anything, Kenny," Nancy started, "I mean they're just roaches, just insects, you know?"
"No," Kenny stated, suddenly turning to address Nancy directly. "It's not that they're just bugs. It's that there are so many, many more of them than us."
Nancy and Stan were speechless at this point.
"Don't get me wrong, I hate roaches as much as anybody else," Kenny seemed to misunderstand the point of their sudden silence. "I mean, of course they're disgusting."
Stan looked over at Nancy with a smirk--determined to humor his and Nancy's way out of this conversation and this tiny apartment. Shrugging his shoulders: "Okay? So?"
"No matter how much we hate them when we see one scampering across the floor or crawling out of a gutter, no matter how disgusted we get at the sight of them--and justifiably so, of course," seeming to still be under the impression that the two of them figured he liked roaches or something. "We really only hate a tiny proportion of the actual roach population."
"What's that?" Stan re-entered.
"We only hate the roaches we actually see," Kenny said revealing the point once and for all.
"The stragglers, the outcasts, the rejects from roach society," Kenny continued.
"What are you talking about?" Stan asked, growing impatient.
"Roach society doesn't care if we hate the few roaches we see, because we don't hate the vast majority of roaches that actually exist," Kenny stated delicately--almost afraid he may lose their attention.
"We only hate the roaches we SEE," Nancy stated as if to clarify or demonstrate that she followed Kenny's reasoning, "not the vast majority of roaches that exist but are invisible to us."
"That's right--"
"Oh, geese," Stan interrupted, "what IS this?" Stan seemed to be heading toward the door. "Look, Nancy, Joey told us to come down here to take this guy out for a couple of hours--I didn't think this would be a trip to the loony bin."
"--and, what's more," Kenny seemed to be finishing a point, "what's more is that the vast majority of roaches--"
"The ones we can't see--" Nancy was fully humoring Kenny now.
"--the vast majority of roach society hates them too."
"Because?" Stan asked figuring joining briefly, very briefly in Nancy's humor.
"Because the roaches we see LEFT the majority," Kenny continued.
"Okay, this is enough, Nancy, Joey must've lost his mind or something," Stan seemed to be concluding.
"So we agree," Nancy stated.
"Nancy c'mon, enough is enough, okay? Joke's over."
"That's right," Kenny said--still in his rhetorical trance." "We're in agreement with the majority of roach society."
Stan realized he would have to wait patiently for the end of the roach chat--hoping that this was, in fact, it.
"Well, you all must think I'm nuts," Kenny came to--as though out of a trance.
"What?" Stan registered Kenny's sudden change in demeanor. "Was that a bit? That was one of your bits?"
"Yeah," Kenny admitted--looking down at the ground momentarily, returning to meet Stan's and Nancy's eyes in shared glances with an unbroken straight face.
"Joey told me you were funny; I didn't think you were THAT funny," Stan said seeming relieved. "You knew that was a bit?" Stan turned to Nancy with his hand slightly gesturing at Kenny.
"Joey told me all about this guy," Nancy said, laughing and hitting Kenny's shoulder.
"Look, I'm sorry, you two came over to do something; let's do something," Kenny said starting to get it together--lauching across the room toward the bedroom. "You two want to go get something to eat."
"Not me, I just ate," Nancy said.
"There's a bar and grill on the next block--a couple drinks?"

apprehension dialog

". . . because apprehension is a good thing and I'm all in favor of it. But it would be helpful if they were a little less apprehensive"
"less apprehensive?"
"yes, but not totally less apprehensive, just a little less"
"a little less"
"a hair's width less apprehensive. Less apprehensive, but not to the point of being perceptible. Apprehension is good. And being perceived as apprehensive is good. But if people would modify their actual apprehension to being less than total--"
"--while being perceived as total"
"--yes, that would be an improvement."

poetic-0 No.5

i want people to die
and to that end i have devised many schemes

such as:
the giant stadium-sized oval cylinder
to be lowered around a stadium
and drowned [splash]

or

the giant stadium-sized big hole
with a trap door [*lever* whoosh]

or

the giant stadium-sized steam roller
[chug chug chug chug]

or

the asteroid diverting rocket
with giant stadium trajectory [blast]

i have hand selected hundreds of thousands
of names from several phone books with the
intention of inviting them all to

a big stadium to meet their end(s)
but first, i must tell them i love them
i must tell them, my lovers, my friends,
that i love them--and

it is a lot of work [tedious]
calling them.

ii
i called one man, a mr. harold oaks,
of des moines, to let him know

that he was on my list of people
to be invited to a big stadium
to be killed with thousands of others

and i told him that i loved him
as a friend--nothing more/
nothing sexual--just friends

i let him know that the actual
location of the mass death happening

is still tentative,
but it will, in all likelihood,
be in a big stadium and that
he will be expected to provide
his own means of transportation,

and i thanked him for his patience.

iii
likewise, i called mrs. margaret fildeburger,
of des moines,
to let her know that she was on my list
of names of people to be invited to a
giant stadium to be killed along with
thousands of other people, and i told her

that the date hadn't been set yet.

i subsequently found out that mrs. flideberger
had been married but that that had ended,
years ago, in a divorce. she told me that
she had had a lover but that was over now.

i told her that i loved her, but also that
i wanted her to understand that i didn't
expect her to value my sentiment above
the feelings that she must have for those
[lovers] with whom she had had significant
relationships--especially since we had only
talked (once) on the phone.

iv
i called a mr. mark lipsky (des moines), but
there was no answer--left a message.

v
i called agnes chapman, of des moines, and
her husband, mr. chapman, answered. i told
mr. chapman that i love agnes as a friend,

and i wanted her to know that. i told
mr. chapman that i was planning a mass death
happening and that agnes chapman was invited

to attend but that the date and location
hadn't been set yet, and agnes chapman should
expect to provide her own means of

transportation and that i will call back to
keep agnes chapman apprized of further developments.

mr. chapman wanted to hear more information--
apparently he was under the impression that
agnes chapman was being invited to be
a kind of spectator. i let it go.

poetic-0 No. 4

after having watched
plan nine from outer space (again)
i was suddenly struck with
the horrifying possibility
that the dead may never
rise again [like zombies]

without aliens to arrive (
with a stupid plan to impress us
out of our scientific frenzy
(saving the universe for themselves)
without aliens and their
stupid plan to ressurect
three dead people in some
out of the way town
in the middle of nowhere
to be witnessed by a handful
of hardly bewildered nobodies
who are too distracted
by their desire to kill aliens
to notice what a great feat
that raising dead people is)
and get killed by us

and what if that turns out
to be really true?

what if the dead
never rise again

but,

instead, remain unrisen
in their graves for eons
their molecules dispersing
in all directions, intermingling
with the molecules of substances


sifting through the ground water
and meeting magma and high pressure
their calcium molecules becoming
lost amid other calciums
and earth calciums?

and what if the deified people
never return like they were
supposed to?--either

due to the fact that they
never really left, but instead
accomplishing the same kind
of molecule dispersion that
their non-deified human counterparts
accomplished?

or else due to the possibilty
that they forgot all about us
a billion years from now?

and

what if civilizations of new
species develop--with their own
languages and shopping malls

walking all over our dispersed
molecules with no awareness of
our ever having existed
due to he erosion of the
pyramids?

poetic-0 No. 3

starlight [sun] [fusion]

photons

blast in profile

animal specimen: goddess

     at star magnification

[The]

photons defy gravity

[halo phenomenon] rare

I could mistake you for a light source

such as: a star --or-- the sun

[and buy your] pretensions of having

created universes [with]

plans to create universes

ii.
reunion of

energy particles [at sun-lit profile]

where salutations

between long-lost

high energy particles

[and]

local quantum bits

[have]
instantaneous sex

"You're not tasting the atoms themselves, really, you're generalizing quantities through stimuli. . . ," she said.

"Well, it's good nonetheless," speaking to the light-being with fusion remnants

iii.

From this angle

it may be observed

that the star's

[expensive] fusion, [and]

casting of photons blasting,

may contain image

as well as enable

iv.
eddy of particle waves

blasting [her] speaking image

     on a brain space

beer molecules

arrive contained

from some kind of

beer star

but

these molecules

predict an obscurity:

clear moonlight

fleeting remnants


poetic-0 No. 3A

poetic-0 No. 2

I.

table and coffee

          [atoms]

          catch a falling red

[hair]

          from the bigger down up

[stars][record]

just before the end of the

                   [world]/[conversation]

table[.]

I mean: "after" [supernova].

with

doesn't happen for world, and,

except "end" is beginning for [conv.]

okay?

=||.

integrating atoms?

[reasonable outrage] with:

"Who do you think you are--an antiquated, venerated

[helium-filled] paper

which

doesn't float unless

sufficient prostration [proximate]

[at "It is floating" qualifiers]?

3.

Table atom and coffee atom have backs facing--

like in the start of a romance movie. We anticipate their meeting, pine for it, yearn for the fulfillment of our own desires through them

[as the stars are shedding from beyond a forgotten cosmos].

And suddenly a roof is made of these atoms housing friends and civilizations--sheltered from harmless [desirable] stardust debris.

iv.

[A] helium [balloon]

less pretenses

than helium-filled paper

          [just like]

a bolt of lightening

pretense-negation [presumption] at fire

--enough!

I wished for a red-haired star being [And]

a coincidental sugar dispensary [became available]

in the concert of coffee.

<.

but

at a ladder altitude, the

paper box [full of records] descended

integrated table and coffee atom[s], oh man!

have [atomic] sex

hand-towel-dabbing hand

paper-collecting hand

and noise was:

                              Stellar Object, I love you.

[with other] coffee dropping

to the [another] table

[atomic culture]

communicating in records

VI.

fire [substitute] but

sun jealousy but

not because [of] fire, and

who can blame him/her?

Integrated atoms, already?

Yes, but, weren't you there too?

[poetic-0 No. 2] sections 1-6, est. 2010, 04, 13

song of coffee atom

[sugar]

[table] atom

civilizations: ("did I mention?")

     coffee, table [atoms]

reports of dropping off table

reports of evaporation--horror
     [apparent void surface

                atomic coffee void(s)]
wild speculation about:

     other tables [and]

     other coffees

what of paper box?
[and] table [atom] mystery
[and] stellar object [red] strand mystery

poetic-0 No. 1

run for senate, dada of my artifacts
and win the popular support of happy
dada discoverers and unhappy

better than unportable, arsenic meaningfullnesses
who exploit (what if) some kind of manufacturer
of planet daylight cities with rain eye field

street viewings

and more entertaining than potato chip video?

VORTICAL POETICS PLUS MODUS NEO-NIETZSCHEANI

a couple, vacationing from cleveland or essex,
arrives, in Kharon's ferry, at the gates of hell. The man can see the sign but cannot read it.
"It's a sign, dear," she says.
"Oh, lovely, what does it say?" the man replies. She can read it, but she hesitates.
"Oh," she says in subdued astonishment--not sure if she should read it aloud.
"What?" he says, "what does it say."
"Well, it's a greeting, kind of," she mentions.
"Honey," he insists.
"'ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE'" she quotes.
"Oh," he replies, "that's awful."
"Well, it's not SO bad, I guess," she says encouragingly.
"Abandon all hope ye who enter here," he quotes aloud pondering the significance. A look of dismay overtakes him.
"Well, look at the bright side," she says cheerily. He slumps up slightly. "At least they went to the trouble to tell us."
"Hm?" he replies.
"I mean, they went to the trouble to inform us which is very courteous when you think about it. At least we know what to expect."

reintegration sans Ovid
I
and then a prophet who shall remain nameless
(but his initials are: suicide bomb) said:
how do I know that Moses
didn't have a putting green
on the ark of the covenant?--
with Adam and Eve in a skiff in tow

being careful to stay dry
because (it doesn't say they were kilned
like other pottery
and) having been made of clay they might
disintegrate with contact with moisture
such as rain or drinking water or sea water

i.e., what's true is that that's that

you see, I wanted to believe this stuff, but,
but then reality said: why go to all the trouble
of making 'em out of clay when
they could just as easily adapt
over millions of years
from ancestors of ancient
chimpanzee types?

that's when it occurred to me that
I would rather subscribe to concepts
that were at least factually accurate than

dodge facts in an effort to
preserve gross obstacles, y'know?

II
and having obeyed the advisement
of bringing two of everything on the earth
with him on the ark, Moses was glad
for his forethought that he had advised
the pizza place to build a similar ark
for, having brought only two pizzas, he
would soon need to have a pizza delivery
because he had already eaten one pizza (cold)
and the other pizza (also cold) would soon.
And Moses feared that the pizza makers
on the pizza ark may not have brought
provisions for the duration of the flood
and would be forced to eat their pizzas

III
in his haste to bring two of everything
(two golf clubs, two cephalopods, two gaseous nebulae),
he had forgotten to bring two specimens of
homo sapiens sapiens. Fortunately, Adam and Eve
(made of clay) had had the instinct to lash their skiff

holding hands utility to movie theater

Neo-Dynamic Cubism, No. 1 (Mongkok)

how ordinary matter
(in the form of machines, buildings, and people), 
in a complex city of great energy and density, 
adopts an elusive quality: 
where the eye fails, 
reason imagines, having deduced

multiple velocities and complexity, 
translucence occurs at advanced perceptions

~*~

looking twice: eonic interval 
Remove the red paint off the old statues
of Pluto, Jupiter, Poseidon, and Neptune
or make new statues in the places
they used to be or in new places--
where they had never stood--

because, according to me, those expressions are still relevant.
New statu(r)es not Olympian? ok, but rational velocity as such.

nonplus elimination

the crowd of contempt(s)
offers third-party hypocrisies 
which have become a little easier 
to ignore 
at chess games, and, yes, 
even at rocket launches 
because atmospheric densities  
are taken for granted 
by us old/new pizza enjoyers 
again

SCH poetic

Salazaar announced:

[g]God doesn't exist,
but raindeer DO exist,
and they believe in [g]God!


~*~


For The Myth of Speed
 --coming across Nevada remembering Alaska

I
The dinosaur bones
emerge from wind on dry sand
 like the universe.

II
Some qwik-stop-gas-shops
have formica booths in there
 made of RED and LIME.

Some all-night truck-stops
have restaurants with fresh brew,
 ceramics and steel.

A waitress might be coming
to take our take out orders.

III
The ad depicts polar bears drinking,
out in the snow, in arctic or Alaska
 and specifically NOT eating human gingerbread men;

my old, Alaskan friend informed me
that two shots from a 50 caliber rifle
 might, perhaps, stop a hungry polar bear--but not likely.

Strangely, Sappho permits being eaten by bears--
 her body, like the prophets', never found.

She imparts sentiments from the culture of her world--
 sitting in a chair where now sits a new starlet.

IV
The futurists once produced reasons,
some, for wanting to stop the expansion,
to make the universe live forever,
to stop decay of matter and collapse of electrons.

 50 thousand years from the nuclear tests, from now,
 the humans should be able to beware the test sites
 and know to avoid settling and building there; how?

The newspaper headline reads: "Amazing infant steals cattle!"

V
20 billion years ago does not exist;
 it never did--not in this universe anyway.

~*~

 Infernal Gravity Well
  "Earth, Still Our Only Home"

I
We are all devils--at war.
Even among us who forget the survival of the gods,
excuse me, I mean: ancestors: grandpas, grandmas
 (and Santa Claus--whom they spawned);
 
we forget being spawned in the delight of their unions,
with dreary grit in sheets, celebrating Nike.

(Once Upon a Time):
And as someone who is almost as big as an amoeba--
fighting my little germ war against all those amoebas--
though I have no conscious memory of the event--
 I'm sure the genesis was no cakewalk.
 Maybe we share this quality of history.

II
(Infernal Gravity Well):
So I was going to slam my enemy
against the infernal surface of the sun
when I caught a glimpse of a great rock falling;
that's when I decided to pin my enemy there
 between the globe and that smashing object.

Cringing, I expected to sense the enormous explosion
as the asteroid crushed my enemy into the big crater
 in the earth--created by the colossal collision.

However, anti-shock occurred, when it missed, to my surprise,
and my enemy flung ME out into the outer atmosphere
where I found myself asphyxiating and falling faster at the sun
 with no way to get back to my beloved earth.

The life flashed before my head--big banging;
I remembered being the king of beasts. Is the sun a beast?


III
5oo megatons per second ^2
is my guess at the sun's magnitude of love.
 The mass of the object attracts everything.