WRITE YOUR OWN EPITAPH

[Violet]

Hi Mat... yeah, I think it would be nice not to remember (I mean, speaking for myself that is)...

Okay, this one should have the accent and intonation of an old Jewish guy from Brooklyn...

WHAT, YOU DON'T REMEMBER ME? I'M THAT FIRST SON-OF-A-GUN
WHO BROUGHT YOU THOSE FUCKING GROCERIES!
R.I.P. BLAH BLAH BLAH (AND YOU THINK YOU HAVE PROBLEMS??)


[edits: a certain amount of finessing seemed needed...v.]

[Violet]

... okay, since my head feels as though it's been through a meat grinder for some reason, I'm having difficulty focusing today -- except on this silliness...

Now, in that time honored tradition of Hollywood on Hollywood... picture William Holden (his corpse, I mean) being fished out from that night-lit pool behind that forgotten mansion on Sunset Boulevard (which is of course the name of this famous, inside-Hollywood film noir)... I love that the narrator of this film (William, I mean) is, well..

"Funny how gentle people get
with you, once you're dead..."
R.I.P. BLAH BLAH BLAH

[Violet]

Okay, this is how I see what happened (last post not included in this). I was home, not feeling all that great, but hoping that some day I'd be remembered for living for my music (although I am not a musician). Anyway, that nice old man from the corner deli was going to drop me off some groceries on his way home, but, just as he got to my door, Lord. M. arrived, stole the fucking groceries, I reached for my Glock (the one I got from Phil), was about to -- well, at least shoot his lordship in the leg, but it seems I missed (must have got his chest instead), but he'd already issued two shots it seems (I guess he knew Phil as well), and, well, that's how we all came to be in this postmortem position of writing these fucking epitaphs concerning goddamn groceries.


THE END
R.I.P. BLAH BLAH

[mickey_one]

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.

[Violet]

How his lordship imagines himself capable of such a maneuver is truly beyond me... Why some of the greatest contortionists in the world can't seem to pull this one off... But okay, it is his lordship... and for that reason alone I think we have to at least own that this might, hypothetically at least, be possible -- at least for him... I honestly hope I don't have nightmares tonight... I mean, I still get the shakes every time I go to stir my tea thanks to him (sorry to be obtuse to those of you not following)... gosh... there truly are some images that are just indelible it seems...

[Minna]

.

[Violet]

... hi Minna, I plan on checking your link but firstly have been consumed with this other nonsense, as seems befitting of someone of my lower moral standing... I will get back to you on this...v.

His Lorship:

This is a half hearted measure to be sure (something like that half an avocado you tricked poor Maya into eating so she'd spoil the weather for everyone in her region)... Anyway, I think, given you've drowned in your own sin it seems [OH MY GOD, I JUST REALIZED WHAT BIOLOGICAL MATTER "SIN" ACTUALLY REFERS TO HERE, THOUGH I CHOOSE NOT TO ELABORATE... OKAY, JUST A CLUE... IT STARTS WITH "SP..." AND ENDS IN "M" LIKE LADY M... WHAT A MESS... NOT EVEN HEIRONYMUS BOSCH MANAGED TO DREAM UP THIS ONE...], while drinking Guinness Stout (I know you thought you had poor Georges licked, but things don't always turn out so well for the soulless in this world, it might be time you understood that)... anyway, I think this an adequately half hearted effort, given your two, shall I say "entries" you've installed inside these hallowed grounds comprising this most sacred and potentially profound (or at least peaceful) (potentially, at least) Epitaphical Thread-dom...

WHAT GOES UP
MUST COME DOWN
R.I.P. his withering Lordship


[Note to the confused: see latest story developments on Georges' "Cow" thread... oh, also of note is his Lordship's exhumation of some atrophied thread of Georges from thousands of years ago (in thread years, that is)... you'll know the one, something earnest sounding, about growing and flourishing... v.] [edits: I re-positioned the words of this epitaph; also, I keep mixing up "George's" and "Georges'"... v.]

[George.Wright]

Violet,
I think his Lordship is John Dee, he exhumes and manipulates the corpses of the past........


Sir Georges.

[Violet]

... well, he certainly is resilient... every time you think you've got him down he seems to pop back up again...

...oh, I'm having occultish deliberations with you, Georges, on the other thread...

v i o l e t xxx

[Violet]

Four olives, with seeds
and a bottle of wild-berry flavored water ...
and Farley said,...
"Into thy hands
I command my spirit."

Farley C. Matchett †
Sept.12, 2006

from: http://www.deathrow-usa.com/

Oh, Minna... this is sobering, indeed...

Violet

[Minna]

.

[Violet]

Hi Minna,

This is quite powerful and moving material...

I guess because I fear the worst sometimes, I find myself imagining scenarios like this poet had endured, where one has to devise ways to keep one's sanity. And so, as it happens, composing poems in my mind (without pen and paper, that is) and having to then memorize them, is something I've contemplated doing... (this is something I hope his lordship will bear in mind, I mean as something that falls in my favor, since in my most feared imaginings it is in fact his lordship who turns out to be my defense attorney)... Actually, for more mundane reasons, I actually wound up doing this sort of memory work with some songs I'd written, as I'd been unable to jot down any notes since my piano is totally shot, this along with my forever putting off those much needed guitar lessons... and so I repeated the songs over and over again (alone, so not to torture anyone nearby) until their melodies were in some manner burned in my brain somehow... This subject reminds me of a film, actually... I'll have to think about the name, but it was some sort of futuristic scenario in which all of literature had been destroyed... I remember this one scene in particular that had all of these people, some young, some old, each of them walking through this forest alone, reciting to him or herself the novel they each had memorized. It was quite fable-like, rather magical, as I recall... I'm sure that some day (if the very worst happens, I mean) this same sort of thing will happen in a concerted world effort to preserve the literature being created on these very threads... (that was a joke, Minna)...

Anyway, thank you for your recent posts. It is good to have here the deeper matters concerning life and death; this alongside my obvious need to keep killing off his lordship over and over again in new and unexpected ways. Perhaps someday I will see the fallacy of doing this, but hopefully not too soon... I'm sure I'm working up to his greatest demise yet -- at least I hope so...

my best to you, my good and dear Finlandia friend...

Violet

[Minna]

.

[Violet]

Hi Minna,

Well, obviously (for our alcoholic, that is), life sucks because he's not taking big enough leaps. Boy, I wish all problems were as easy to solve. As for his lordship, you'd be surprised, he's not that all easy to kill off, and when I do, he seems to reemerge again, unscathed... I'm not sure what this says about him, but to try and paraphrase Hamlet, there is more in this world than is dreamt of in our philosophy, and his lordship seems to be a case in point. Anyway, I appreciate your concern, Minna -- what we don't need is one more person (as in moi) sitting on death row -- besides, who would be my defense attorney if I killed off his lordship?...

Oh, greetings Lord M.... hope you're happy with your new puppy, by the way, and more importantly (certainly from Minna's perspective I should think) hope the puppy is happy with you (this really is a smiley moment, although I hope you'll forgive me if I don't actually install one here... I only do that for Cate)... Oh, and sorry, m'lord, but I think I cast you in a pretty grizzly role on the suicide thread today... it just sort of came out that way, I didn't really mean all that much by it, I don't think... [note: I had some other stuff here, but I'm really frustrated, actually... I think I have gallows block, if there is such a thing... I don't know how or when I'm going to, uh, memorialize his lordship next, and it's starting to trouble me, it seems...]

oh, bye Min,

Violet

[mirrormist]

Blank
I
stand
alone
looking
back
over
the
fallen
blocks
of
my
life

(The Last Domino)

http://mirrormist.com/anthony_leahy_mir ... poetry.htm