Sunday, February 11, 2007

Keeping House, Keeping House

If you ever saw "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back" -- and there's really every reason in the world you shouldn't have bothered -- you'll know what I'm talking about when I say you should hear the name of this post in your head being sung by young Jay to the tune of that song at the beginning when he's outside the convenience store. The rest of you just go about your business.

I switched to New Blogger, which has something to do with Gmail. I'm going to give it a few days to make sure everyone can read and post here without trouble. A few test posts would be appreciated before I inundate you with any further news.



Anonymous Mikeswanson said...

A test post huh? It can be about anything? Even short fiction?

As the cop wound his way through the crowd, separating people with only a brief consideration of their mass and disposition, he wondered who was in the center of such a dense throng. People all around him were excitedly craning their necks, wide-eyed trying to see what those in front were so animated about. The cop was surprised to see people doing as he was, pushing their way through, but in the opposite direction, one with tears streaming down her face, one laughing, one with downcast eyes, one as if he had seen a ghost. The cop's seargeant had told him to see what the commotion was about, staying in the car, his obvious trepidation lost on the naive rookie. A sidewalk scene such as this was rare even for rush hour Manhattan. It was like ants on the residue of a spit-up peppermint. The crowd relaxed as the cop got within earshot of the center just behind the front row, as if those behind him switched their focus from whatever it is that they all wanted to see to focus on what the police officer would do. They stopped talking. All he heard over the din made by the front row as he tried to separate two ecstatic teenage girls transfixed into a comotose state holding onto each other was what sounded to him like the rumble of a jet taking off only much quieter. Suceeding in breaking the girls' reverie, he furrowed his brow and stepped within the radius of the front row of onlookers. He straightened. His eyebrows shot up. He blinked incredulously grasping for his radio and missing several times looking at the object: It was an orange and white flashing traffic barrier with a single phrase spray painted hastily onto it in black:

"Test Complete"

1:40 AM  
Blogger charvakan said...

I like that it isn't making me copy the nonsense letters before I post.

11:47 PM  

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