Special. Treat of the Week. Dig
your nose into something Substantial. These are freshened
up regularly, just like your pin-striped underwear. Meant
to inspire deep reflections and inner cravings, this showcase
is merely a cross-section of current Writers and Current
like throwing a Kleenex into the Wind and making a wish for
a Transgendered Barbie Doll.
New in Krylonville ... a few miscellaneous chunks of useless
and confusing data from the Weird Wide Web. Stuff you may
already know or have already forgotten. Go here if
you're feeling lonesome and single on a Thursday night in
from the 80's. Can I lure you with a Looney Tune? The Adams
Family, The Jetsons, Fred & Wilma, Miami Vice. An era
most of us forgot already. It was the "cooling off" between
the Hip Era and the Lost Generation. Frankie Castro tells us
he's found the Real Gold, and it ain't in Das Kapital, nor is
it in Mein Kampf. Our gold-mines are empty because
we are only generous on the surface.
Blue Pharoh. Keep your clothes on, you're going way past
"Mecca". The Doorway to the East opens with a
musty creek; the dank smell of centuries-old mildew permeates
your Palestine Pan-Fries. Too late to hang out your
dirty laundry - you're off on the Long Trek through the Desert
You will make it alive, only if you remember the famous words
of Rumi: "This is not a day for asking questions, not a day
on any calendar...".
GRIFFIN GULCH ... Real Men carry spears and leave the women
to do the Knitting. Or is is the other way around? In
this politically-defective world of crossed male and female
roles, the answer can only be found by males diving deep into
their watery grief over the loss of their father. Robert
Bly would fart in his grave if I went any further with this. The
mystery's out: the cave-man lurks beneath the bridge with his
Knitting Kneedles and his Krylon swimsuit...
ASS is BAD ASS. Sez1 offers a deep Hidden Peek into our
Famous Search Engine Phrases. Questions that got you
here, Answers that made you Queer. It's Mind-Bending actually,
ask my Dentist. It's remarkable what people are looking
for, and even moreso, what they find.
No talking, please, this is a Library. Could just as well be
on a Sunday. And yes, Graffiti has all but disappeared
from this Green and Sleepy village, partly due to Victoria's
Archaic Anti-Grafitti Bylaw. Read it and weep. Read
it and sleep. Read it and go back to square one, Bo Peep. Read
it and follow the other flock of Sheep.
Graffiti. There's nothing quite
like it. Ruins your day when you're on the bus. Pisses
you off when you're walking in the park. Makes you
see double, even when you've had nary a beer. It's STUPID
GRAFFITI, installed by 12-year-old "undergrads" who are
too dense to see the Writing On The Wall. It furthers
no one's economy. Read it and weep.
Archaic Graffiti Bylaw. Here is a city where we punish
"real crime". Here is a city where we let Hockey
Thugs paralyze each other for life and get off with a bouquet
of flowers, but we send taggers to Jail. Here is a city where
Turbanned bombers of Airlines get government loans to tell lies,
but kids who color grey walls are thrown in the clanker. Here
is a city where Legal Ambition is spelled out in Toilet Paper
that shreds as it dries on the clothesline.
is the end, beautiful friend
This is the end, my only friend
The end of our elaborate plans
The end of ev'rything that stands