Monday, April 21, 2008

Chapter the One


It was in the deepest recesses of that land known as Tasmania, where I first heard the siren call of the Spooky Men.  Their demands for me to join their sonorous clique were persistent and, as it would prove, irresistable.  At that stage I knew only the reputation of this terrible band of wandering minstrels.  From the Blue Mountains, where they have their lair, they travel freely, riding out from time to time to wherever their whims take them.  Up lonely roads, and even through the skies, they come.  Whether in crowded cities, among the vagabonds' tents or through empty towns, long past their prime, the spooky men move largely unnoticed among the unsuspecting inhabitants of the "real" world.  In their obscurity lies their great power.

And now I had been called.  I pondered long over whether to accompany them on their travels.  For the spooky call is not lightly given, nor may it be received lightly.  Lightly not it has the reception into the ear of the receiver.....

I feared what might be if I assented and made my own way into spookidomliness.  For, even though they were asking that I give myself only for a brief time, I knew that where the spooky men go, mystery and danger go with them.

Through long nights I examined myself.  I then took time to consider my position.  Was I up to the task?  Was I brave enough?  Strong enough? Pretty enough?  Could I, a humble "top" (as they would have me), albeit with travels of my own of which to speak, take among them my place, rankswise?   Did not the risk I run that soon backwards would my words become inevitably?  Already I felt their power.

Missives were exchanged.  Texts, both ancient and modern, examined, sent and received.  And finally I made my choice.  My way was set.  I would bow to their will.

I would become a Spooky Man!


3 comments:

Rastas said...

Through long nights I examined myself.

Medical journals suggest that self examination is wise, particularly in the efforts to detect testicular cancers... But as a "top" you prolly dont need them anyways...

I then took time to consider my position. Was I up to the task?

Of course you were/are.. I would suggest that at your age you pick a position that minimises back strain

Was I brave enough?

A man who wears a wig and gown in front of a man who wears a prettier wig and gown in certainly brave enough

Strong enough?

rank, strong... means the same thing don't it???

Pretty enough?

PLEASE, Please, please tell me that the spooky men do a cover of Casey Chambers "Am I Not Pretty Enough?"

Am I not pretty enough?
Is my heart too broken?
Do I cry too much?
Am I too outspoken?
Don’t I make you laugh?
Should I try it harder?
Why do you see right through me?



Could I, a humble "top" (as they would have me), albeit with travels of my own of which to speak, take among them my place, rankswise?

I said it before, I say it again... rank, strong... means the same thing don't it???

Did not the risk I run that soon backwards would my words become inevitably? Already I felt their power.

Use the FORCE, Spookette... Proud of you would Yoda be...

cloudstreet said...

Reading between the almost impenetrable lines of your journal, I perceive that you are having Quite a Good Time.

Your other band,
Nic

T9sus4 said...

Much wisdom lies in the Spooky One's words.

At least I think it does - I tried the lot to decipher the meaning, Socrates' Scepticism, Plato's Prattle, Aristotle's Algorithm, all with the same result: "α λαοδ οφ βολλοξ"...

Glad to hear you've a great time!
T.