Tuesday, February 06, 2007

ThE WORLd OF ZEROkANE.




ThE FABRiCATiON OF ThE SURREAL.


Joshua Kane drew on his cigarette - which wasn't really necessary, as there were a couple of blank sketchpads on the table beside him.Margaret Fright watched. "Always like to be different, eh Kane?" she remarked. Margaret Fright was a part-time model and a full-time prostitute. She just adored pea and ham broth - as long as it was made with real urine."If snakes can shed their skins," mused Joshua Kane, continuing to sketch on the cigarette, "why can't rainbows shed theirs?"Lord Muddle tittered. Everyone knew he had a glass eye."I think I'll take the mule shopping!" Joshua Kane announced gaily. "It's about time she had a new outfit!""Why Joshua," drawled Mister Zero, "that's no way to talk about your life."Lord Muddle and Margaret Fright sniggered.Joshua Kane sighed and shook his head. "You should be more unusual, Lord Muddle," he advised him. "Don't just have a glass eye - have a stained-glass eye."Mister Zero laughed. Joshua Kane twirled … his ego."Oh look, Kane - he's staring at you from the corner of his eye!" Mister Zero told him."A glassy-eyed stare, no doubt," muttered Joshua KaneLord Muddle thumped the table. "One day I shall have my revenge!" he snarled."An eye for an eye, eh Lord Muddle?" mocked Margaret Fright.Outside in the garden, rain began to fall and the earth rushed to catch it. Inside Joshua Kane’s head, a pocket watch began to float and the Crucifixion melted in the air.Margaret Fright grew restless. She felt an incredible desire not to have sex. Joshua Kane finished sketching on the cigarette and presented it to her. Mister Zero offered her a light but she said she preferred darkness."When I die," she mused, admiring the sketch, "and am lying in my coffin, I should like this cigarette placed between my lips.""So your skirt will be raised as usual then," ventured Mister Zero.Margaret Fright hissed at him. "If your cock was made of glass," she spat, "I'd shrill like a soprano till it shattered!"Mister Zero glared at her and suddenly realised he was in love…. with himself.Outside in the hedge, a butterfly turned into a caterpillar, just to be different and nocturnal animals came awake, complaining about daylight.Inside, a woman knocked on the door and entered the room. Her mouth was on one side of her face, her nose protruded from the other and both ears were bleeding blue blood."I see that Mister Zero’s new showroom dummy has arrived," drawled Joshua Kane.

Mister Zero told her to go away and realised that the floor had changed colour overnight. From the ravenously beautiful teak mahogany floor that he had been used to, there now lay a semi-fluid mass of twitching pulp. A low throbbing sound was emitted from the mass, which heaved and rumbled and sighed, much like a wrecked hot air balloon that has been invaded by a pack of hyenas.It didn't take long for Mister Zero to realise what had in fact occurred during the this day of intellectualism, poetry and art."Liquid twine, liquid twine, liquid twine", he screamed, for it was the remnants of his other life that he now viewed pulsating wretchedly on the floor. "The only difference between me and a madman is that I am not mad." Mister Zero danced in a circle and hummed the songs of unknown origin. The Liquid twine started to melt even more into the wooden floor and was slowly fading into the MurkyWorld. This day had begun like any ordinary day in Saffron Walden, ESSEX. The dull and unpleasing village that Mister Zero called home. After hang-gliding to the shops using the wings made from the dead skins of teenage girls. He purchased a postcard and sent it to himself. He then went down to the local fruit shop and bought his daily ration of four pineapples, and a small tin of kidney beans, with which he had hoped to rustle up an exciting meal for him and his 3 friends. He had an unambitious conversation with Mundy, the shop-owner, in which he imparted upon him the sordid details of fruit and vegetable abuse.


Then the question beckoned to Mister Zero, Isn’t Paranoia just Reality at a higher resolution? Mister Zero was no more unhinged than the rest of them, that is, Joshua Kane, Margaret Fright and Lord Muddle, but perhaps he was more of a genius!? He certainly had more motives to carry out horrific acts upon the scum and the awful.He looked around the room for clues. His normal human skills were still at a fairly embryonic stage, and he figured that the direct approach would be most likely to yield results. "Who did this to you, Liquid Twine?” he asked the oozing, disintegrating mass, next to his bed."Urgh", replied the mass, in a polish and Wiltshire accent mix.Maybe this was a clue, thought Mister Zero. He mused over this for a while, before his attention span denied him any further progress and turned him swiftly to the attention of the intriguing nature Joshua Kane, who was painting on the walls of their studio, using the piss, shit and blood of recently slaughtered rabbits. It seemed to resemble the endless turmoil of life, and the blurring of those distant black relics of the imagination that tinge the green everyday realities of his monotonous existence. This occupied his thoughts for a while until abruptly derailed by Margaret Fright fondling a cockroach. The cockroaches hadn't paid rent for months."I know", grinned the telepathic cockroaches in the corner, sitting ON THE matchboxes stuffed with hay and cotton buds that THEY called home. They wore small paper-clips twisted into a coil for hats."One day", thought Mister Zero, "these cockroaches are going to get fed to my favourite girls, the one’s that will soon be in my basement.” "Have to catch us first", sneered the cockroaches, before all diving into a crack in the wall, the result of Lord Muddle's over-ambitious, yet substandard plastering.

Margaret Fright lay on the sofa and watched the ebbing of the liquid twine mass, her eye twitching involuntarily with curiosity as she saw a strand of stringy twine emerge from the ooze twine and grasp at an unsuspecting cockroach and suck it shrieking into the shimmering mound. The mass quivered slightly and then emitted a low, satisfied groan.Mister Zero irrelevantly thought briefly about a book by Chaucer that he had once lifted from a table, and then put down again without so much as blowing the dust of the cover, then with A terrible creaking sound – surrounded their studio, it was all around them.Mister Zero fell tentatively to his knees, and started to scream as loud as he could, louder than he had ever screamed before, his scream was able to stop and silence the terrible creaking sound. His screaming was accompanied by rounds of applause and standing ovations from his appreciative audience, the cockroaches, Joshua Kane, Lord Muddle and Margaret Fright- and a small gurgling noise from the final remains of the liquid twine. He stood up and bowed. Margaret Fright said, “He who says it cannot be done should not interrupt a man doing it”.The applause of the cockroaches, whose memory should never be praised too highly, turned, once again, to howls of anger and despair as Margaret Fright’s poodle appeared in the midst of the assembled insects, crushing several thousand of them. "Keeps the population in check", said the poodle. Margaret Fright then stripped to her underwear, and in her high heels, bent over to let the poodle lick her arse crack. Joshua Kane watched this and took photographs, Lord Muddle ‘s feet hurt and he moaned that he wanted to go home and then fell asleep and Mister Zero allowed his mind to wander on this delightful Malthusian principle, before noticing a crowd of fuming cockroaches rounding on him, seeking revenge for the fate of their beloved friends, killed by the poodle.A small one near his ankle fashioned a small crossbow out of a discarded toothpick and the remnants of an annihilated spider's web, and proceeded to launch several dung pellets up his trouser leg."Not today, I don't need this today", thought Mister Zero, as he considered the mournful quest that lay ahead of him to return to his family, to go back to the tower of lost control. His recently erect penis, hiding behind his freshly cleaned trousers looked up at him in dismay.

"ATTENTION PLEASE. WE ARE NOW MOVING TO PHASE 3. REPEAT. WE ARE NOW ENTERING PHASE 3." Yelled Joshua Kane. “Open your minds! CUT Open your hearts! Allow yourself to succumb to the dark, sprawling forces of your sub-conscious! Accept the true, pan-dimensional reality of non-existence, feel the mass consciousness shared by all hatred transcend through your soul! Tear down the walls! Be one outside of yourself, know that we are all one, and appreciate death and torture from the greater perspective!”

Mister Zero stopped himself from playing with his penis and turned to look at Kane, who was standing in a corner of the studio. He was in one of his trance like states again. Chanting some unrecognisable mantra. Lord Muddle was asleep and Margaret Fright was letting her poodle, fuck her 80-year-old cunt. Mister Zero decided to go to another corner of the room, the one near a window and turn his back to them all. He needed to think. He needed to realise his existence and contemplate the ways of the THEY. Mister Zero stared at this wall painted in shit, piss and blood only 11 days ago. He leaned closer towards it, sniffing it, breathing it all in, then he licked it. The wall was his art, his life and his mind. Then his thoughts turned to THEM.

“They, whomever these corporate positive thought entities are, are masters of delusions and I have recognized the raw power of the vividness as more than my murky dream scenarios could ever muster and am convinced I am dead and that the nature of dreaming. Are the realms of angelic and demonic human scum, a spirit world of myriad vibration levels and the pictures I see on the backs of my eyelids, are not dreams but reality. Souvenirs of a greater existence, I have unlimited awareness of the code that floats beneath the surface of a greater reality; I am groping, my mouth agape in total understanding”.

Mister Zero longed for the embrace of control. It was entirely his decision, He thought about plate glass walls. He thought about cruelty, he listened to Joshua Kane’s Mantra, he listened to Lord Muddle’s snoring and he listened to Margaret Frights moans of poodle ecstasy as he spent the rest of the day watching the young woman, who had moved in to the studio across from theirs. Through the window he could see her exercising in the nude and as he watched her and fondled his penis, his darkness floated uneasily behind him.



THE END

Labels:

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home