Wednesday, April 24, 2013


A tragic comedy. The names and the people have been changed slightly to protect the identities of those involved. [Enter Man of the World (MoTW) and Pascal (Me) stage right.]

Me: he's not in today and hasn't shown up for work for a few days either.

Motw: He's off the grid.

Me: Not off the grid.  He's off the radar. His phone rings, texts are recieved but no human is capable of responding.

 Motw: A bender?

Me: I don't know the details. I assume if you drove up to <city> and looked around the bars you'd find people who had seen him there recently.

Motw: Except he wouldn't be there because he lives in <other city>.

Me: Oh, right. I get that confused. But maybe he's gone to <other city> so the tales of his escapades will not be written down in the annals of the local history in the police blotter. 

 Motw: You could be right.

Me: It seems to me that there is a thin amount of plaster and wallpaper covering up his psychic cracks and he can maintain a functional disposition most of the time.

Motw: Then, like a drug, he has to let it out and it takes control.

Me: Exactly.

Me: Oh, boy. But if this guy is a 3 on the Richter scale then <other person>  is like 3 points higher.

Motw: That's exponential. 

Me: Yes. 1000 times more tightly wound. But also needs 1000 times more control to keep the demons at bay.

Motw: Like, do you figure the whole Vegan thing is part of the control?

Me: Yes, discipline, order. 'No thanks, I'll not enjoy primal urges. I won't allow myself to enjoy food. I only eat cardboard and flax.'

Motw: 'No animal products for me because I'm too enlightened to hurt any living creatures.'

Me: The amount of control and discipline is proportional to the guilt and artifice required to pretend to be highly functional. While our bender friend has a thinly guarded wall, our other friend is a false wall concealing bones, dust, skeletons.

Motw: I wouldn't call them friends.

Me: No, thank goodness. Not like you and I.

Motw: Well, we are lovers so...

Me: Regarding the facade, our control freak Vegan with his no-leather shoes and his linen jacket and...

Motw: His plastic belt.

Me: His plastic belt and his...

Motw: His conflict-free granola bar.

Me: And his iPhone.

Motw: His eco-conscious luxury sedan.

Me: Yes! I forgot how eco-conscious his sedan is.

Motw: You know, he said... When the doctor told him he was basically, you know, going to die. Because he didn't have enough protein. Like, you can't live on seeds...

Me: And leaves.

Motw: He said at lunch when we were at the restaurant that 'Oh, you know, guys, I'm going to eat fish twice a week now because the doctor said so. Or I'm going to die.' But he was, you know, ashamed...

Me: Because he failed.

Motw: He failed. And he wanted to let you know it wasn't his fault or his idea. It was against his will...

Me: 'No, it's not my idea! I don't want to hurt the poor Salmon. And the noble Tuna! The lowly Catfish in his splendour!'

Motw: ...and he was gonig to head you off at the pass so you couldn't, you know...

Me: Judge him.

Motw: ...right, you can't judge him. It was the doctor's orders that made him eat the meat.

Me: Anyway, all these signs were visible from his youth if you knew what to look for.

Motw: I suppose some animals were harmed?

Me: Of course. But you never could pin it on him. Mrs. Daltry would come by the house and speak with Mrs. <redacted>. 'Oh, Mrs. <redacted>, I wonder if you've seen Fluffy? He's missing since Monday. I'm terribly worried.'

Motw: 'Oh, lordy me. It seems like an epidemic. Why just yesterday I saw a flier on a tree looking for dear Ruxibald the cat.'

Me: 'Well, Mrs. <redacted>, I know Fluffy can't have gone far. He's got that awful cataract and is lame and deaf.'

Motw: 'Well, I promise you Mrs. Daltry, if I hear anything I'll let you know.'

Me: And, all the butterfly wings in the back yard. Dead flies cut into fifths...

Motw: Fresh mounds of dirt...

Me: 'Oh, don't pay any attention to those, Mrs. Daltry. You know <redacted>  has his green thumb. He gets that from his grandfather. You know how he loves his fruits and vegetables. He's always digging in the garden and planting this and that. Just the other night, I found him in bed with a kumquat and a banana, bless his little heart.'

Motw: The signs were there.

Me: Yes, obvious if you knew what to look for.

Motw: So the mother knows about it and is covering for him?

Me: No, no, the parents just look the other way. 'He's special you know. He's gifted. He loves fruits and vegetables. He's a great activist for animal rights. He doesn't wear any products that are derived from under-lifeforms.'

Motw: The muffled screams from the basement?

Me: 'What noises? I don't hear anything. Must be the plumbing...'

Motw: The same way the wife doesn't ask about or mention the dungeon?

Me: There's no dungeon. That's in the movies. This is how I do it: there's a white van that's all beat up and parked around the block.

Motw. Yes.

Me: And it's covered in dust and rain spatters with five parking tickets on the windscreen.

Motw: I've seen it.

Me: He gets in there and in the back it's proper outfitted with all the tools he needs.

Motw: Duct tape, hack saw...

Me: Plastic curtains...

Motw: Buckets of lye...

Me: Whatever tools he may need. And he drives around there looking to pick up someone...

Motw: 'Need a ride, lady?'

Me: 'I'm looking for a date.' You see, like Ted Bundy, he's perfectly normal looking on the outside.

Motw: 'There's nothing wrong with me. I'm a vegan. I don't eat meat. I don't laugh at jokes.' 

Me: That's right, he can't laugh. Laughing at one of my jokes might let out the bad demons. You might see behind the false wall. It's like a dam. In the morning you see a trickle of water at the base. After lunch, it's a small leak. By dinner, the dam has broken and 300 people in the valley below are dead.

Motw: All that pressure builds up.

Me: The entire weight of the pressure of the water in the dam is focused on that one weak spot.

Motw: And it blows, how does he let it off slowly?

Me: Like I said, he takes his van on certain evenings...

Motw: Or the weekend when the wife is with the kids...

Me: And by Monday he's back under control. Maybe his hands tremble a little but he can control that. Nobody suspects. A body is found a few days or weeks later by the lake...

Motw: Now, has this van been seen in the Home Depot parking lot?

Me: Of course. You have to fill up on supplies from time to time. Not Home Depot though. Too pedestrian. Not eco-conscious enough. I know, he shops at Lowes!

Motw: The <city>  Lowes.

Me: You suspect <person> and <redacted> are in cahoots?

Mot:w: Possible.  But he shops at Lowes for his tools for sure.

Me: Yes, he walks in and the greet him. 'Hello Mr. <redacted>!'

Motw: 'How's the wife and kids?'

Me: 'Shh! You know you're not supposed to recognise me.'

Motw: 'Will you be buying more power tools again?'

Me: 'Yes, but not that 14 volt shit. I want the 24 volt...'

Motw: 2-amp. 8-amp...

Me: 'Makita double reversible blades. Two dremels...'

Motw: Wet vac. With a really good seal...

Me: 'Two more acres of the waterproof tarp. I really like that small shovel with the ergonomic grip. That did the trick...'

Motw: Easy to clean...

Me: Easy to clean, stows quickly. Doesn't make a lot of noise when you hit a rock...

Motw: And he asks advice, like 'If, say you were trying to fit some meat in a cooler...'

Me: 'Not for me!  For a hunter friend!'

Motw: 'Right, not for me.  But say you're putting 6 cubic feet of meat into a ice cooler that only has 5.5 cubic feet of space...'

Me: 'Roughly 5.5 cubic feet.  Maybe a bit smaller.'

Motw: 'I don't usually fight the bigger prey.  I mean, my friend...'

Me: 'The hunter...'

Motw: 'So I want to know which model of ice chest to use...'

Me: 'Cleans easily 'cause it's messy...  I mean, my friend says that...'

Motw: And he knows he's on camera so he has the baseball cap pulled down low with the hoodie tucked in. Pays in cash...

Me: Rewards card...

Motw: 'Make sure you punch that rewards card. I'm almost up to my free screw driver set...'

Me: 'Certainly Mr. <redacted> . I mean, anonymous customer.'

Motw: Yep.

Me: Yep.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Wildman Negative Spaces part II

Now that we understand negative spaces, we can explain more about how the Wildman exists and is perceived.  The most common form of negative space is the old "optical illusion" pictures.  Often a black picture form is imposed on a white background.  The black picture could be a candle or a face.  By blurring your eyes, or focusing instead on the white background, another picture emerges of either a couple kissing or a witch.  The negative space contains a picture of white-around-black while the positive space is black-inside-white.  Of course, it could be the other way around.  The exact definition is symmetric and arbitrary.

When a participant observer meets the Wildman, a positive space image of a person might be presented.  We posit this is the positive projection of Wildman space, but it is not necessary to do so.  What is more important is the relationship of other objects and ideas around the area of the Wildman that are either implied by absence (Negative Insertion), by presence (Positive Insertion), by lack of absence (Positive Removal), or by lack of presence (Negative Removal).

In Negative Insertion, the observer participant projects outward their desires, wants, or needs.  They envision in that space a reflection of what they see in that area.  This is different from Negative Removal which is a form of purposeful Negative Insertion in the sense that someone or something has removed a piece that used to exist where the emptiness now sits.  A good way of thinking of this is the difference between "There should be something there" and "There is nothing there."

In Positive Insertion, the observer participant sees what is projected intentionally to them and interprets the result.  The opposite is the purposeful removal of an object or image or idea so that nothing exists where the removal occurred.  A good way to describe these is "There is something there" and "There was something there."

The Wildman inhabits most of these for different purposes.  In the simplest of cases the Wildman appears to be seen and have interactions.  He is there to listen, to observe, and to talk.  We have seen some instances in the Conversations in a Bar series (cf. T. Pascal et. al.).  Within those series the Wildman has also resorted to appearing in a form that is purposefully altered or arranged to decieve.  In this way, he has added or subtracted parts of his appearance, voice, and demeanor.  The participant-observer projects their own image of what they expect and this is what they see.  The Wildman's artifice is only a loose outline with enough details or hints to make the illusion complete.

In other more complicated episodes the Wildman will remove himself from a scene or tableau in order to draw attention to an idea or a concept.  That is, if the Wildman attends a child's party as a magician, he will then make himself and all his props disappear suddenly.  The children will be confused about what they have seen (or not seen) and they will cry and scream for Mommy and Daddy to fix it.  The Wildman is teaching a leasson to impressionable young minds, you see.

And even more complicatedly, the Wildman may detract from himself by erasing records or memories of himself to create an empty spot or blur in the confused minds of (wo)men.  This blur is intended to allow the Wildman to ask questions or pose thought-provoking mind experiments in order to draw attention to himself or to not draw attention to himself.

This document will not self-destruct in 5 minutes.

Monday, April 22, 2013


"What is there to do?" she asked.  He didn't answer.

"Why is this so?" he wondered.  No one knew.

"What can this be?" they said.
"I don't know," they said.

"When should we go?" everyone asked.
"What time is it now?" they asked.

"Why must they lie to us?" we asked.
"You should know," you said.

"Why ask questions?" it said.

"Why do we seek answers?" he asked himself.

"For what purpose is it meant?" questioned the answerer.
"Nothing," replied the questioner.

"Why is silence the only thing that cannot be broken by itself?" she asked.
"If it silence could disturb itself, would it be silence instead?" he answered.

"What is the goal of all this nonsense?" it wondered to itself.

A dog barked.  A cat meowed.

The trash burned glowing red hot.

The leaves decomposed in a shady slumber.

The thoughts fell from the clouds and rained upon the paper.  They left a muddy mess and wet stains; little else.

The end is near and the beginning was far.

"What does this mean?" I asked.  You all have no idea.

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