NOW HIRING

NOW HIRING-
BEWARE
I want twisted characters, capable of nailing a dog to a sofa and tipping a terrible waitress 50%. They need to have angles and rough edges and bad habits and obtuse beliefs, obsessions, and secrets and mildly exotic tinsel lives. I want them to keep the story rolling, to possess that bent plastic self-conviction that they have the power to control this mad ocean instilled with the honor of gradually gradually gradually drowning us-quickly. I don’t want these garbage cut out tofu Barbie dolls whose personal Nagasaki is a week-long nightmare involving worms like the imagination of Picasso. However lovely. I want flesh with bubble gum and happy meals for sensual favorites. I should meet my paper children on the streets, watch their worries drip out the cuffs of their pants, feel the zebiba on their forehead like god’s kiss, smell their caramelized urine and green apple shampoo and lasagna stains, and taste their bleached paranoia as they carry the weight of my eyes and their sin and dreams on the way to the nowhere of everywhere, the next great setting of their lives, a temple, where the curtain is torn, damned, and dumped in a gravel parking lot sold for 30,000 leaflets of painted tree skin. And they have no idea what I have in store for them, not a shred, and it makes them all the more pretty and innocent and darkly amusing, that I almost wish they were human. Hahahahaha…

Lucana

The patron leaned against the temple wall, fondling a smoke between wooden fingers, his eyes like a stenciled eclipse. Something poisoned his figure, maybe his bent shadow, or personage, the way he skinned the dirt road with his boot, or the smoking barrel of a pistol with a history of putting bodies six feet under a lead rose smiling in his coat pocket. Whatever it was didn't bother him. It only disturbed the backdrop, like a needling feeling in a room that raises hairs.

Conscience. An art conserved for the critically-acclaimed and damned.

"You understand- how delicate this is- a surgery- you strip sinew from bone, a tumor from flesh."

"Is understanding perquisite for action?"

Irene: Introduction

The saddest and only certainty I know in life is that we are all doomed to die. And yet, I wouldn't have it any other way. Mortality paints every second with such feeling, such a nostalgic sense of being, that if we could all live in this comfortable truth, understanding that it is far more delicate then the rain, far more powerful then the blistering sun, and infinitely holistic in comparison to the finite of a single everlasting, there would be peace. Thus, the outrage in the end does not become the war or the disease or the hunger or the loneliness or the loss or the desperation or the dishonesty or the betrayal or the longing for sense and beauty and being in a monolithic world designed to make us feel so incredibly small. But the ignorance in our approach to how we inhale it, conceive it, and act upon what we believe we are perceiving. And these actions become our bionic factors, our color tones, and a testimony to our flesh, that you and I are both one- a human being. It would be heresy even for a higher entity, supposing there is a higher entity, and I say this without a shadow of hostility to any party, to spit on our human nature for it is who and what we are as a species, the only thing which makes us lesser then the image of perfection and the only thing which makes perfection seem much more than the darkest beauty. For we are the human being. We have carved tools with the skin of the mountains, tamed wild beasts and harvested the lands, intellectualized the senses with a system of sounds and symbols, mastered the oceans and the air, so why not!? Why not now in this absolute moment, this scabbed hour of darkness, do the one thing our fathers and forefathers failed to do? Why not now make the dreams we have of our children living without having to endure the temptations of chaos a reality? Why not now build our own city upon a hill where every human being has a right to a full life? Why not us? Why not become the founders of new earth in which generations will look back not in disgust but with promise, and a promise in themselves, that if we could do it they can always? So tell me, why not!? Are you all too self-conceited, miserable, decadent, and pathetic to see that death is winning? Only a monster would speak up and desire war over peace, slavery over freedom, and ignorance over strength, because the human being does not desire evil. For it is not desire we should harbor, but the fallacy which makes us believe controlling poor desire impossible. And what we desire truly in a sensual sense is simply to feel love and love freely. The human being is your only partner, your only friend, your only confidant and preserver and provider, your only able and fleshy cohort in unfathomable love. So why should we wait for death to bring us to a higher entity and eternal calamity? Why not become one with the highest purpose and espouse paradise? I have hated and loved, stolen and gave, lied and saved. I have struggled with the guilt of who I am and cupped the memories of my childhood in my hands and longed. I have in all ways and seemingly none lived the life you have. But that nothing can not change the fundamental truth that we are one as human beings. A man once said his greatest fear was to have died without having lived. But today we can turn that greatest fear into our greatest comfort- that we all have lived without the fear dying.

-This is the narrative of a man who gave the world peace...

(The father of a young autistic child battling cancer and the loss of a wife feels broken. But when his son's last dying request is that his father teach the world peace he stops at nothing to keep that promise)