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Author: Bartleby

Into to Mystic – 2

Into to Mystic – 2

I just want a couple condos in a couple world cities
And a twenty-five year old babe for a wife
Like all the other movie stars get
But they’ve signed me up for this tour of the mystic
Not sure what I’ll see there between being and non-being
I wouldn’t want to go for fear of no longer needing my baby doll and all those other prizes I’m always almost about to win
Any day now
I want to save democracy, free speech, and the right to choose good government; but with Beauty
That’s my specialty: Beauty = Truth = Goodness = Fair Play (“Justice” has made so much trouble; not the eternal Good “Justice”, but the concept of “Justice”, which seems to bend so easily into “Eternal Revenge”).
I want to settle down and have a family as a considerably younger man in a city in the sun that the bombs can never ever find
But now I’m buckled into this journey into the great beyond, into the “mystic”, they call it.
So all I can do is listen to the water running through the pipes
I think my shoulders are too tense for entrance into the mystic
Something to do with the dress code

Into the Mystic – 1

Into the Mystic – 1

Emergency trip into the mystic.
But how do I get there?
So tired and worn out.
So lonely and bored.
So panicked and panting like a hyena in heat.
How can I step down?
Where do I get off?
How to get into the mystic?

God poem

God poem

Give me God poem good poem poems that help
Empty me fill me turn me inside out flood out of me
Help please
The jangles inside and out
what’s the use of more words?
A song that lifts us all up together
that grabs me by my slashed gut
that heals me as it heals all
a true song that loves the Truth

What is the path?

Onlinebookclub.org experience

Onlinebookclub.org experience

Why did I?
So desperate for the books to land.
And they said Or double your money back.
So I thought what have I to lose?

Only time, calm abiding, and probably money.

It seems like there’s a contest for the book of the month.
But once your book is reviewed (assuming, I guess, the rating is a 4 or 5), and even before you can see the review, you get an email explaining that the conversations about which book is selected for that honor can be steered to your book for $20K.
What?
So there is no book of the month; there are only books that got 4s or 5s and for which the authors then paid an extra $20K.
Why do they pay $20K? They do the math: 30,000 guaranteed sales, at $3 (or whatever their profit is per book) a sale, equals well over $20K.
But it’s not quite honest, since readers are led to believe the books were selected in a more traditional / fair manner.

Then you get the review and it’s okay or whatever.
It’s an amateur review from someone who didn’t understand the book particularly well and who say they removed a point because the book is perhaps too artsy or philosophy for some readers. What?
Then you are immediately asked if you are satisfied with the review, at which point you notice two things: you’re not super satisfied with the review, and they are now attempting to box you into saying you are satisfied with their services, even though you wouldn’t at that point know if the review led to anything or not.
When you let their “100% satisfaction guaranteed” siren song seduce you off your established route, you were thinking that you’d be satisfied if the review and its placement helped some people who would be predisposed to liking your books discover this book. That’s what you wish for, nothing else. But now you see that what you are going to get is an amateur review that misses your sense of your book and that anyway sits in obscurity. No one will read the book based on this service, even though it is a pretty good book and there are people out there who, if you could just find them, would be glad to discover this book and your oeuvre. So you say, no, I’m not satisfied. And then you have to answer and answer and answer and answer and email after email after email after email and you are repeating yourself and each email seems to be misunderstanding your previous email on purpose so as to fatigue you into giving up and pretending you are satisfied with what you’ve gotten in exchange for your $400 (it didn’t have to be $400, but that was supposed to give you the best reviewers and the quickest reviews and you were already in the “what have I to lose?” mindset).

At one point they offer to give you the site’s owner’s book so you can make your book sell, but obviously, that’s not what you signed up for, you wanted the site to advertise your book, to get your book noticed by that little chunk of the world population that would love to read your book and follow your development as an author; that was your idea; that is what you are not good at; that is what you’d wanted help with.

At some point, they are telling you that was not a good review and they will give you another for free, but you feel quite strongly by this point that everything they do is just to wear you out until you will eventually be satisfied with an amateur review that is read by very few and that doesn’t move any books, doesn’t help you go evolve from some poor fool who spends a decade writing books into the void to a real author whose vision and perseverance are now receiving their just rewards. So you say, no, just refund the purchase price, that’s all I want at this point. And by now you’ve written so many words about this topic, a topic you find both boring and stressful.

And the denouement is that the owner emails you. He’s willing to refund the money, but your refusal to accept a new free review does raise questions. Which statement feels to you designed to manipulate you into capitulating. So you say, just refund the money, I’ve written enough about this; since, after all, you’ve written like ten messages to them about it as they try to fatigue you into submission like a bull in a bullfight, running slower and slower as more and more swords wiggle in its bumpy back. Then he responds that he’s the only one who can issue the refunds, so if you could please quickly explain your reasons for requesting the refund. One final hurdle. But no, it will probably lead to more hurdles …

Is it a scam?
Is it an iffy enterprise?
I don’t know.
They use the initial reviews to discover which books are good enough to offer to help promote.
But the promotions seem a little dishonest because readers are offered the sense that the best books are chosen, while the promoted books are actually the ones that meet some minimum standard of worthiness and that then pay more money (after the initial review) for the promotion.
Also when you, goaded on by “or your money back”, sign up, you don’t think you are signing up for a possible future paid promotion, but for immediate value, something that would satisfy you now, which if you’re an author without an audience, would be, you know, some readers, a review that caught enough of the book’s essence and was read by enough potential readers that it would get some meaningful number of likeminded readers to try reading your book.

They could, apparently, sell your books.
This is what that offer of 30,000 books sold for $20K has told you.
And this in turn makes you think, what is the relationship between advertising and success?
You’d always thought the books would eventually catch a fire on their own.
Does that ever happen?
Sometimes.
And if it doesn’t, does it mean the book doesn’t deserve to sell anyway?
If so, propping up sales with relentless advertising seems like cheating.
But maybe if the book never catches a fire, it just means the right people never read it, and with advertising maybe they would.

Anyway, an unsatisfying and exhausting experience.

And why did you do it?
That level of desperation where you let yourself be fooled.
That level of hopeless hope where you send the pretty girl from some far flung country your hard-earned money so she can come to you and be your bride, even though her profile keeps telling you she’s in a different far flung company than she was the day before, and even though her Whatsapp account is flagged as a business account, and even though there is no plausible reason why she would be interested in you.

Authors get lonely too

What to do?

What to do?

The hurt too much
Can’t begin
Politics too stressful
Can’t move
The loneliness too long
Can’t speak it
Tired

What to do?

Put your hand on my stomach
Tell me you believe
The monster in my gut
Swirling and screaming
Tell me you love me anyway
The hurt on all sides
Pinning my shoulders down into my sex
Tell me you will stay

What to do?

The hurt all through like a vibration
And forbidden long ago from saying it hurts
or why
The hurt all through like a flowering field

What to do?

All thoughts have gone to mush
All feelings have turned to stone, have crumbled, are scattered by desultory winds
I cannot stand up in this place
Time is up
I fail

What to do?

Demon Hunter

Demon Hunter

” … morally enfeebled also, by the incompetence of mere unaided virtue or right-mindedness in Starbuck, the invulnerable jollity of indifference and recklessness in Stubb, and the pervading mediocrity in Flask. … ”

[Herman Melville as Ishmael, narrator of Moby Dick, in Chapter 41]

Upleaps my heart into my hands around
silk-handled saingeom. We flow as one,
me and my spinning edge. Without a sound,
my linen feet cross market stones. I lunge
like forest fire in a crystal night
to shatter demons left aft fore and right.

Upleaps my heart as goblin eyes roll up,
as welted tongues roll out, as horn-ed heads
I slash in two. With perfect poise, I sup
on righteous victory til all my foes are dead.
In every season weather clime I train
to rid the world of evil and its stains.

Upends my soul. I can’t contain it more.
Divine spark diffusing all through my space
of conscious time, infused now with eyesores.
Strange jagged lines in purples pinks disgrace
my perfect form. Where do I begin,
and where do these blasphemous patterns end?

We lived alone, traveled to the hinterlands
sustained ourselves on wild locusts honey and
God’s redeeming grace, such as it was
in that holy land when the desert bled into the sun
and the sun into God and God into a bright white forever dream
that held us all together forever in the pause between action and reaction
a nice time
a time for reflection
a time to find the edges, to unfold and fold up back again
but now
what now?
Now we’re old tired brittle
too many years pretending
that evil can be banished to the outsides
too many years upending
apple carts and money changers’ tables
too many years out of our league
too many years of uninterrupted prosperity and never-ending success
too many great intellectual victories
too few glimpses of the Ghosts of Christmas

If friends leave loving me when catch they me
deep down, where demons reign in jags and zags?
If love won’t love what I turn out to be?
Three share one eye, three ancient hags
who see, who know, who feel everything
that ever was; as now beautiful maidens they sing.

The truth about humans is that they are noughts.
The truth about people is that they’re empty
of everything except God, who with the shake of thought
both shapes and Is everything. And God’s sent me
to disappear as I speak the truth.
Same job as everyone else in this big old kissing booth.

Author: The Ancient Curse
Production: Bartleby Willard
Lighting, Sound, and Snacks: Amble Whistletown
Copyright: Andy Watson

College Movie – 4

College Movie – 4

In a study room in a dorm

Susan: So we’re approaching the limit, but we’re not reaching it.
Leah: Yes, getting infinitely close.
Darren: Isn’t that cheating?
Abe: There’s no cheating in math.
Darren: What else do we call saying we’re there when we’re actually only infinitely close to being there?
Abe: That’s what this proof is for, to prove we’re not cheating.
Leah: We can’t be cheating. A major support of modern math and with it the modern world would crumble if calculus was a fraud.
Abe: This proof is not really a proof. It’s an outline of the fundamental theorem of calculus, which is rigorously and definitively proven.
Darren: Okay, but I don’t even get this outline of the proof. So when I use calculus, I am cheating.
Susan: Me too. I’m a calculus fraud.
Darren: We can have a club: The Calc Fraudsters.
Abe: You can just join any fraternity or sorority, I’m sure they’re all Calc fraudsters.
Susan: Hey! I’m pledging.
Darren: Me too!
Leah: QED
Susan: Oh come on, Leah! You know its just because my friends …
Leah: are running off a cliff …
Darren: Me too, I just, I have to have a social life, or else …
Abe: you might end up getting good grades
Susan: This is ethnic discrimination.
Darren: Yeah, anti-Greek!
Abe: To return to the outline of the proof …

Outside a bar on one end of the campus, the end with the shops and restaurants.
This bar is right across the street from the end of the campus, from a big lawn fronting an administrative building and a student community center with a food court on the first floor and a plush well-couched study room and offices on the second floor. The weather is nice in early September. End of August is always muggy and awful. But then things crisp right up once September starts. Excepting that last week of August, the school year’s weather is always pretty good or good or great even. The young scholars are seated on metal-lattice chairs around a metal lattice table in front of the bar. Those under 21 have sodas or waters; those over 21 have beers and wines. One professor is there, the leader of the weekly Stammtisch. A youngish man, a little below average height, slight of build, with medium-manly features and dark brown hair neatly parted on one side.

Mike: Ich verstehe nicht wieso [let’s return here later]

College Movie – 3

College Movie – 3

Mike
Imagine I’d not found you
Imagine there’s nothing good to do

Beth
Imagine I’d not found you
Imagine nothing quite went through

Mike
I’d live some kind of lonely life
in a jumble of bottles and strife

Beth
I’d wander lonesome through the night
opening myself to empty dreams of Mr. Right

Mike
I found you when I was young and fresh
before the jags ate through and made a mess

Beth
I found you when I was innocent and soft
before I had time to get myself bitter and lost

Mike
Sans toi, silent tears run my cheeks at thirty three
too late first glimpsing the hurt inside of me

Beth
Sin tu, I doll up too soon for too heavy hands
Just to share a secret I couldn’t learn to stand

Mike
And look at us now so happy and so clean
Beth
We go to church and we think nothing mean

Mike
Lucky the soul who find venom with antidote
Beth
We poured ourselves in each other’s throats
Mike
Each shaped to hold the other’s hatching hurt
Beth
The world watched only tidy jeans and matching shirts
Mike
A lucky break
Beth
Yes

Mike
I know where I would be if I hadn’t met you when I did
I would be in a one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn
working as a property manager, writing books no one read.
wrecking every love that almost ever happened
growing old and friendless while the world feel apart on all sides

Beth
It’s too bad we couldn’t have been in this college movie
It’s too bad we couldn’t have found each other in this college movie
where well-timed kisses seal happy fates
where love is always almost but never quite too late

Mike
Imagine us with a family and a home and the wisdom and strength to do what needs doing in this bleak afterglow!

Beth
Imagine us nearing fifty ready to take our own children to college to meet their own true loves after a couple hours of hilarious and ultimately heart-warming escapades!

Mike
Imagine!

College Movie – 2

College Movie – 2

At the cafeteria people choose from a wide variety of fare. But there’s no point to any of it, and no one realizes that soon they will be old and all the possibilities, which at the moment seem both infinite and inevitable, will disappear.

Jake: How you boys feeling?
Darren: Good, right, Abe, we’re feeling good?
Abe: Birds flying high, you know how I feel.
Jake: Jazz standard allusions, alright, I thought this was my table!
Darren: We accept all, right Abe?
Abe: Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles.
Jake: Where did you get this guy!?
Darren: He came with the room.
Jake: Lucky man.

Meanwhile, at the girls table:
Tiffany: Hi hi, you girls mind if we join?
Susan: We’ve saved you seats.
Tiffany: Mille grazie!
Susan: Of course! It’s not like we know anyone.
Julia: Yes, Una grazie’s more than sufficient.
Janet: Do they still package them as singles?
Julia: Hello, I’m Julia, and this is Susan.
Susan: We’re roommates.
Janet: Hello, I’m Janet, I went to high school with Tiffany.
Susan: What town are you from? I don’t think Tiffany mentioned.
Janet: Pittsburgh.
Susan: Oh, very nice! That’s where we had our Pittsburgh field trip in fourth grade. I loved the incline, but I wish that man had not punched the stadium wall.
Janet: I’m not familiar with that event.
Susan: It was Pirates versus the Reds, May 27, 1987. I think the mall was metal. He had long stringy hair and a round face. A worn white T-shirt, blue jeans, a little on the heavy side. Seemed upset. The wall didn’t move.
Tiffany: Amazing memory!
Janet: Who won?
Susan: Reds 13 to 6. They won all three games at Three Rivers Stadium.
Julia: You didn’t tell me you were such a sports fan.
Susan: Oh, yes! Only baseball though. And softball. I played softball.

But conversations about who played what position in high school sports are too boring to include in a movie, so here we will mercifully break away to a scene of one of the student cafeteria workers cleaning off the salad bar while singing, It’s the eye of the tiger, it’s the thrill of the fight, risin’ up to the challenge of our rival. He’s wearing headphones. I guess this film is set in the mid to late 1990s, back when the US would always be a happy democracy and the jovial leader of the free world. Ah, those were the days! Where does forever go when it dies?

College Movie – 1

College Movie – 1

The movie takes place in a magically easy time and place.
It is a land where people honestly believe that unresolved crushes, awkward conversations, homework and exams are problems; a place where people stay up late figuring out the nature of Reality over cheap beer. It is an impossibly easy place, a fantastically easy place, a place so easy that its inhabitants are so convinced that they have challenges that they sometimes crash out and end up in a slightly less cushioned existence. It is a place that cannot exist, a place that yet somehow is.

I know who will star in this film, and I wish I could marry her and have a nice life on the other side of hope and fear. But she must find her own way and I must disappear into the fog, it is a pea fog, it is a layered fog, it is a thick and a proud, a self-satisfied, a vaingloriously thick and fuzzy fog.

Susan’s Mother: We’re just a phone call away, honey.
Susan’s Father: Okay, Gloria, that’s enough, let me have a turn.
[So Susan’s mother steps back so her father can hug her goodbye]
Susan’s Father: We’re proud of you, Susan, take care of yourself.
Susan: Thank you, I’ll call every day.
Susan’s Mother: Just to check in, it doesn’t need to be for hours, just to let us know how you’re doing.
Susan: Yes, of course.

Julia walks by. She rolls her eyes.

Then in the next scene, we’ll have it happen that Susan and Julia are roommates. We can do whatever we want.

Susan: Hi, I’m Susan.
Julia: Hi! Julia.
Susan: I’m from Lawrence Park, well, Erie.
Julia: Oh, I was in Erie. Presque Isle.
Susan: Yes! A wonderful resource. Where are you from?
Julia: Philadelphia.
Susan: Oh! I always wanted to go. Must be so cool.
Julia: Big city.
Susan: I love your skirt, so cute.
Julia: It was a gift.
Susan: Oh. … Do you have a major picked out?
Julia: No, something with art, or computers, or literature, or chemistry.
Susan: Wow, that’s a lot of ideas! I’m prelaw. My parents’ are lawyers. They like it.
Julia: Sounds like a safe bet.
Susan: I know, right?

Tiffany: Hi girls, my name’s Tiffany, I’m your RA, just stopping by to wish you welcome!
Julia: Thank you
Susan: Yes, so considerate!
Tiffany: How are you settling in so far?
Julia: Good, we’ve put our bags down.
Susan: Yes! And then we’ll unpack them.
Julia: Wouldn’t have it any other way.
Tiffany: (laughs) Okay, great, well, if you need anything, I’m on the first floor – 1C.
Susan: Thank you!
Julia: I do have one question.
Tiffany: Yes?
Julia: Are there any rules?
Tiffany: No! Of course not! Just no drinking, no smoking, no loud parties, and no boys.
Susan: Perfect!, great rules.
Julia: Should minimize the unwholesome fun.
Tiffany: And make room for wholesome fun!

Then we’ll do the same thing, but with two young men meeting for the first time in their dorm room. Darren is unpacking as Abe enters.

Abe: Hi!
Darren: This your room too?
Abe: Yeah.
Darren: So we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. I’m Darren.
Abe: I’m Abe.
Darren: Like the president?
Abe: Honest Abe.
Darren: Lot to live up to.
Abe: Yes, keeping the union together through a civil war, ending slavery, writing and delivering one thoughtful, soul-searching oration after another, growing wiser in dialogue with the nation.
Darren: How do you handle the pressure?
Abe: I gave up early, before I could walk.
Darren: No kidding?
Abe: Yup, in my crib, my first sentence was, “Mommy, don’t expect too much”
Darren: Was she disappointed?
Abe: At first, but she’s gotten used to it. It was better to break it to her right away.
Darren: Tear off the bandaid.
Abe: Mmm

Walter: Hi guys, I’m Walter, I’m your RA.
Darren: Hello. Darren.
Abe: Hi! Abe.
Walter: Like in the Bible?
Abe: Father of the Faith
Walter: Lot to live up to.
Abe: In fear and trembling, I make the infinite motion. I don’t just fling myself into the absurd, but stand calmly up inside of the mystery, trusting in the Love that chooses everyone.
Walter: Oh, wow! Can you really pull that off?
Abe: Tell him, Darren.
Darren: He’s a quitter, Walter. Never even tried to live up to the name.
Walter: No! Quitting already?
Abe: Long since quit.
Darren: Been done quit.
Walter: I see.