May 9: Weaving Something, Writing, Fairy Tale Rough Draft

Charlotte tore quite a section out of her web, leaving an open space in the middle.  Then she started weaving something to take the place of the threads she had removed.  When Templeton got back from the dump, around midnight, the spider was still at work.

Yes, Charlotte's web is a metaphor.  My favorite passages in the book describe Charlotte at work, tearing out threads, weaving and dropping and spinning words into something amazing.  It's no coincidence that the very next chapter after the above passage is titled "The Miracle."


I have been thinking, cogitating, meditating on the poem I'm going to write for my brother's funeral.  Ideas are starting to coalesce.  I don't want to do an elegy.  Nothing with lines like "Death, be not proud" or crap like that.  I want something more uplifting.  It's going to be difficult enough without me adding to the tears.

I'm hoping to have a rough draft by tomorrow night.  A new web.  Or at least the start of one.  That means I need to start weaving by tonight.  The writing process will certainly help me get through this weekend.

Speaking of rough drafts...

Twice Once upon a time, a carpenter baker chiropractor sculptor named Guenther Bob Fritz lived by a lake forest rock.  Fritz dreamed of carving the rock into something small ugly amazing.  When he looked at the rock, he saw an angel a gargoyle a unicorn with a huge penis tail horn.

Fritz worked on the rock every day, slowly chipping away at the marble until something shitty beautiful started to emerge from the heart of the stone.  For one two seven years, he worked on his masterpiece.  Then, one May night, he made one last chip, stood back, and saw that it was done.

Word soon spread throughout the crack house slum kingdom that Fritz had finished his sculpture.  Visitors started coming from far and wide to see it.  Then, one day, the Royal Prostitute Exterminator Engineer appeared.

The Royal Engineer slowly circled the rock, inspecting it.  Then he turned to Fritz.  "The demolition crew will be here tomorrow morning," he said.  "Your rock will be destroyed by nightfall."

Fritz was pissed shocked.  "Fuck you!  What?!" he said.  "Why?"

The Royal Engineer smiled.  "We are going to be constructing a new biohazard dump brothel road through here."

The next morning, the demolition crew arrive, and by the afternoon, Fritz's unicorn was gone.  Within six months, a new road and Walmart and Red Lobster Olive Garden Dairy Queen were finished.

Moral of the story:  People like buying cheap shit killing themselves with fast food shopping more than art.

And Saint Marty napped ate French fries lived happily ever after.

Sometimes a horn is just a horn