Jeff Mach's Blog, page 17

(Just a circus, folks, nothin’ to see here.)

Once I had a friend,
I thought,
but really,
Pagliacci has no friends,
and that applies to all of us clowns,
even those of us who really can’t,
and oughtn’t try,
to pronounce “Pagliacci”.

And yet:

Perhaps I’m not cool enough to be a circuspunk,
an abstract take on a centuries-old attractions.

Perhaps I am,
and have always been,
a circus,

making the young and old both laugh and scream,
the ooddly delicious wind of buttery popcorn,
the stale beer which was once, and may it so be again,
spiked with cocaine.

Perhaps that’s why I’m too weird for them:
they like their attractions tame, and in cages,
and I never met a cage
which wanted to hold me
for more than perhaps an hour or two;

the distinguishing details of my life
are madness,
not locks.

The post (Just a circus, folks, nothin’ to see here.) appeared first on Jeff Mach Writes.

Work Hard, Brave New World

Work hard, O makers of the New Age.

Let perfection be your watchword. Only don’t have a watchword; that’s not the kind of word our audience likes.

(We’re careful about what they watch; and we don’t like words.)

Work hard, O makers of the New Age.

For you must create, create, create;

and destroy, destroy, destroy.

And someday, you will accidentally create, create, create

that which hath no pleasing smell

and the masses will destroy, destroy, destroy,

and gone,

gone,

gone are you.

Work hard!

So that you may more speadily get to your day of vanishing!

Nothing you do has meaning or purpose! Consider yourselves like the inhabitants of Atlantis, if Atlantis wasn’t real!

Believe lies!

Behold falsehoods!

Bring to your bosom the cargo cult of wishful thinking!

Lie, lie, lie!

Nothing you do matters!

Love the modern age, my friend.

Without it, you might be forced to do something of meaning,.

 

The post Work Hard, Brave New World appeared first on Jeff Mach Writes.

You deserve what you get

Baby-eater, what taste is better than babies?

Friend-melter, sure the coot makes you conscious.

I mean,choking, dying, hurt, demonical, so, so gross.

But silly! You didn’t want to be monster.

Now you are.

You are the worst!

Don’t you love it, inquisitor, monster, serial killer?

Tell us what to do, dickwad. What joy!

The post You deserve what you get appeared first on Jeff Mach Writes.

One there was a monster

It was hideous. Huge, inevitable. Tiny, like a virus. Ubiquitous like God.

It wanted to spread germs.

Why not germs?

So it did.

Now you’re dead.

Yay! Happy worms!

Oh, how I love you, and this is proof of my total and utter flaw.

You are gross.

Unkempt in body and soul.

Unspeable.

Leprous.

May you die in a rushing river that none might know you.

O,

I

hate

hate

hate

hate

hate

you.

The post One there was a monster appeared first on Jeff Mach Writes.

A Love-Note To Insomnia

Apologies in advance for linguistic abuses,
But I can’t figure out where the Hell my muse is.
Perhaps she visits when I dreaming,
In which case, I’ll see her never, it’s seeming.

Some people thing sometimes find sleep difficult;
I’d rather be slung from a catapult
Than face another sleepless vista

And thus, the sleep that’s missed–ah

Will surely make you list

a bit to the right,

and a little downwards,

with a sideways shake

to show you sort-of meant to drink.

The post A Love-Note To Insomnia appeared first on Jeff Mach Writes.

Such strangely simple spells for madness

Know what research suggests?

“Psychologist show that being unfriended on social media is the ultimate act of passive-aggressive rejection, and just like in the physical world, the closer you are to the person, the worse it feels.”

Which…

means that, for the hundred thoustandth time…

this shit is not coincidence.

Yes. That unfriending was a hardcore act of aggression.

And she was fucking texting you at the time!!!! She could have fucking TOLD YOU.

Yeah, Steve split. As he should have. And you know what? Who gives a fluck if Bellatrix split or is just scamming us?

She doesn’t deserve us. And the only reason we feel this way is because we’re impoverished.

We won’t let ourselves be impoverished again.

(“Bellatrix”, chapter I.)

The post Such strangely simple spells for madness appeared first on Jeff Mach Writes.

A Note Towards Magical Thinking

Moom the Mage gave the kind of sigh with which Plato, had he spent less time drinking, might have offered up every fifteen minutes or so. Mume resolved to be more like Plato and much, much less like Moom.

“But, Your Moomness”, said one of the dumber students, whose name was, ironically, Lord, “surely if Magic comes from the Will, then wishing IS being.”

Mume managed to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head by remembering just how difficult to clean that area was.

“The Will is without form,” he noted, “and to give it physical form, we need to take actions in the physical world if we want to draw the spiritual to this plane. Then Magick cannot happen purely by wishing, without work on this plane as well.”

“I don’t understand,” said Lord.

“Think of it this way,” Mune replied. “I’m sure you WISH your spell wasn’t about to go awry and turn you into a paperclip.”

“…”, said the paperclip.

The post A Note Towards Magical Thinking appeared first on Jeff Mach Writes.

On A Slowly-Descending Stage Swing Which Starts At A Disturbingly High Height

Good Gods! I swear this thing gets taller every time.

Line, line,.. you know, I do appreciate you, and I wouldn’t have a job without you, and honestly, I’m going to regret this, but I’ve been regretting this since they told me about this scene, Which, to be honest, we never thought it was going to go this well. I mean, it’s not going well now, but frankly, I’m not actually sure if I’ve been delivering my lines in the first place.Sorry. I would apologize for breaking character, but you really need to understand that this is dangerous. I should start at the beginning. I mean, what is this, eighty feet in the air? Eighty-three, to be exact. Of course they know. This is a finely-tuned and intricate mechanism, and one of the largest outdoor proscenium arches in the world, which I’m sure your programs have mentioned quite a number of times, and this whole gracefully-descending-on-a-swing is absolutely for the birds. I mean, literal birds, and I also mean the kind who can fly, not the emu lind.I know.. We’ve got a good fifty feet here, ane I’m not even back in character. I’m sorry. Imagine that this is all happening in a sweet and adorable little-girl voice and I am, for some reason,a child completely uncaring that she is descending from the hypothetical heavens.I mean, if I were a goddess of ancient Greece, coming down to solve the problem in the show, I’d at least be wearing a mask the size of a tower shield, and I’d know you weren’t looking at me.The point is, I could die here. Which would be pretty unpleasant for you, but way more unpleasant for me.What I’m saying is, I’m lucky that I’m lipsynching this whole thing.Oh, I’m not, am I? I mean, I would have heard the lines. In fact, I’d have heard my microphone if it were on. Okau, I’m lying, I knew the microphone was on, I just got a better job offer, and I’m hoping I’ll be fired when we finally get near the ground.Wait.Wait.WAIT.WHY IS THE SWING RISING AGAIN?!?!

The post On A Slowly-Descending Stage Swing Which Starts At A Disturbingly High Height appeared first on Jeff Mach Writes.

I Will Not Take Revenge

I will not take revenge, my friend
I really see no need.
I just want back what I did give;
all else is simply greed.

I gave my life, I gave my mind,
I gave you opportunity,
And now you’re glad to keep the toys
And very gladly through with me.

What did I like best? Give me a breather:
I didn’t like this, and I didn’t like that, either
I live a life of kindness and help
I might as well have been a kelp.

Here is the moral: all deserve pain
All deserve death, then pain again.
Trust no life. Trust no friend.
Trust only that (hopefully)
all things end.

The post I Will Not Take Revenge appeared first on Jeff Mach Writes.

I Once Knew An Ogre

I once knew an Ogre, and he was a fool
The stupidest Ogre of Ogre School

He couldnt find love wiith a stick and a map
He couldn’t catch a mate with an AI-based trap.

He couldn’t support himself except
By doing jobs through which he slept;

They required of his limited mind
No actions, either cruel or kind.

Ogre, Ogre, moron, fool,
Where will you find somebody who’ll

Put up with crudeness, rudeness, lewdness
And an unappetizing nudeness?

Ogre, ogre, brains of sand,
Nothing worked out like you planned.

Found a mate Your mate left.
Of a life you’re sore bereft.

Found a job? Found a home?
You’ve less brains than a concrete garden gnome.

I once knew an Ogre Lord:
And time with him, I can’t afford
Of his stupidity, be assured;
and worse than that,
he’ll leave you deathly bored.

(to my ex-friend, Ogre)

The post I Once Knew An Ogre appeared first on Jeff Mach Writes.