Punk rock dating chapter 71

Punk rock dating chapter 71: The Circumference of Infinity...

Illiterate Truths:

September 13th, 2009 :

The suburbs of Altoona, Pennsylvania:

1528 East Front Street.

Buried deep in a subdivision (surrounded by barren strip malls, spiritually bankrupt industrial parks and hexed parking lots) was a nondescript, pale-white, single-family house.

Docteur Coorgan was on one knee, picking the lock on Escorpion's front door with a tool set he had brought with him on the plane.

"I'd never been on a plane before," said Julie with a mouthful of complimentary peanuts. "It was cool of them to let me have an extra bag of peanuts...I tell ya...I think that stewardess liked me..."

"Shhh! Julie! You're constant jabbering is going to draw attention!" Dorothy scolded, "If we get caught breaking into Escorpion's house we're in serious trouble!"

Julie shot Dorothy a dirty look. "There wasn't all this trouble before you showed up..."

"Please!" Pleaded Marie. "Can you two stop bickering for five minutes? It doesn't matter who caused what! All that matters is that we end it..."

Dorothy looked impatiently at her watch. "Docteur Coorgan...Are we almost in?"

"Oui! Do not rush me! Picking ze lock is like making love to a beautiful woman! You do not rush, yes?"

Julie swallowed another handful of peanuts. "How do you know so much about picking locks?"

"Ah! When I was un jeune garçon growing up on the Saône, I used to be a bit of a Cambrioleur..." Dr. Coorgan reminisced. "I would break into summer villas and steal bottles of Cote de Nuits Burgandy...Later in life I stopped stealing wine and started stealing ze hearts of women...."

"Huh," huh-ed Julie.

"Je l'ai! I've got it!"

Escorpion's door slowly opened...

Dr. Coorgan, Marie Lansing, Julie Hales, Dorothy and Clement Allsworth gingerly stepped over the "Not Welcome" mat and into the dank living room of Escorpion, himself.

Excluding an avalanche of Tom Jones memorabilia, the Ranch-style house was completely desolate.

"Hmmm...Never pegged Escorpion as a Tom Jones fan," Dorothy ruminated as she inspected a vomitous rainbow of colored-vinyl pressings of "Delilah."

It's not unusual to be a Tom Jones fan..." shrugged Clement.

Marie rifled frantically through Escorpion's kitchen drawer. "Never mind all that. We've got to find Orion before someone shows up here!"

Julie sprawled herself out on a paisley pimp couch, fingering an MP3 player she had found on a space-age-retro coffee table. "Huh. I don't know how to turn this on... Must be one of those next gen iPods...Maybe it's the Tom Jones model...I wonder if he has "The Young New Mexican Puppeteer" on here..."

Dorothy looked over at the MP3 player in astonishment.

"Wait a minute!" she shouted as she took the device from Julie. "This is the same model Patina is downloaded on!"

Dorothy took Professor Patina from her purse. "What's your take on this, Professor?"

Patina inspected the object via his built-in camera and became very excited. "Yes! This is not 21st century technology!"

Due to her familiarity with the model Dorothy was easily able to turn it on...

....................................................................................................

I had spent decades cleaning the closets of my mind in a Hesychastic state, but decades meant nothing to me. Clocks stared with dead faces. It was five o' clock everywhere.

Walking the dead end streets of my rhombencephalon, I had discovered a state I could only describe as a terrifying inner peace and a comforting animal fear... The scarlet robe of death acceptance...

If the Orange Grove can be thought of as my psychic birth, and the Tropic of Pineapples my coming of age, then the Island Black must be accepted as my moment of psychic death. But what lied beyond?

This was the deep end of the pool. And the lifeguards weren't on duty this time of night...

There I stood in a field of placenta...At the center of the universe was a Sacred Tree and hanging from its tangled limbs, a single red apple: the color of a precious ruby or freshly spilled blood...Circling the Sacred Tree were the lions of the parietal lobe..."The true answer can only be another question!" they roar. I broke down, overwhelmed by the infinitude....

"You must not eat the apple...you must eat the apple...you must not eat the apple...you must eat the apple..." The lions mumbled in a cognitive loop, never deviating their elliptical orbit around the tree's trunk.

I plucked the apple... A serpent jacked off in anticipation (how he did this without arms is difficult to describe).

I took a bite. Possibilities began copulating and subjectivity was born. I was present and past-tense. A wave of consciousness flooded the universe in dark matter. Are chemical processes not physical substance? Thoughts thicken and coagulate, a single bright flower blossomed from my cerebral cortex...White light...

.......................................................................................

"D-dorothy?"

"Dad?"



Join us tomorrow for the true return of Orion and uh-oh SCORPIO....