suburban and stately /
not so much parking lately /
At last precious release
Beloved readers, cool midtones, friends, and mild browsers,
It's been an exciting week here at Damage Irreversible studios deep in the forbidden forest where nobody treads and the leaves whisper at you late in the bright but moonless night and the path spreads into an endless maze in which the wary traveller may lose themselves and all recollection FOREVER! There hanging high in the secret crevices of the trees David and I watch your helpless figure-- a speck among a tangled copse, devoid of all memory, search for a brief but fleeting moment of orientation in strange stars barely revealed by a shifting canopy before you finally disappear, obliterated by the world as you have forgotten yourself.
Soon we are ready to collect your articles left scattered with no body to whom they belong, a wristwatch, the last of your dwindling water, your message undelivered, and an item-- precious and mysterious.
We turn it over in our grubby fingers like the savage monkeys we are, unkempt and unfamiliar with the oddities of the procession of civilization long forgotten. Why is it so bright? What does it mean? Can we eat it? Can we use it? Is it powerful?
Inevititably, its secrets lost, we cast it among the pile of artifacts collected of which we can determine no purpose. And wait for the next poor soul to make similar mistakes as we chitter among the trees, eyes flashing like a distant reflection of something familiar.
Astute readers, lost in our twisted maze, may recognize our grand themes by now-- cruel fate, burning, helplessness and how to help with that, the--
Where was I?
in the back,
"You were talking about Damage's GRAND THEMES"
what's your name son?
"Chuck, I go to tech school in Texas and I'm reading the comic at my lab job right now."
I like your style!
So- the GRAND THEMES, love, death, money, myself.
We may also recognize CLASSICAL overtones, most notably the tale of Amazon queen Penthesilea, having travelled to Troy to atone for the accidental murder of somebody important, she arrives upon the cusp of the Trojan war. Pledging allegiance to Priam, King of Troy, who has just had his son, greatest of the Trojan warriors, slain by Achilles. Penthesilea, fiercesome and beautiful, succeeds in routing the Greeks until Achilles rises from the ranks to slay her. Though accounts vary, the moment his spear pierces her he finds, locked in the gaze of her luminous yet dimming eyes, that he is hopelessly and inevitably in love with her. And as he gasps in his moment of reflection, revelation, and desire, so Penthesilea releases that last precious portion of the air in her lungs, the finer parts containing her soul, which drift upwards, escaping Achilles embrace, and he may only clutch at her lifeless body.
"But Professor Dale, aren't you starving?"
Jesus, I'm SO hungry. Why don't you feed me! I ingest my nutrients through a paypal button located at the bottom of the site.
That's all good buddies number ones! I want to say that I am glad you are here and now we are friends, and we may hold hands in the park if you wish. I am not ashamed. I am not ashamed of you though I think I could do better, and your manner of dress is shabby, and you spit when you speak. Even though I am much worse. We are happy to settle. I am glad you are here, and we can have this time together in the week. Let's talk for hours on the phone while I roll around on the bed twirling my finger around the curled chord.