David Archives

September 25, 2006

David: Progress

As Earth hurtles through the void, the stars shift, rendering the old constellations obsolete even as new configurations form, picked out by the keen, imaginative eyes of the astrologers. Being products of their era, the shapes they discern from the celestial sphere are necessarily relevant to the material world surrounding them.

Such a day came, when the mystics, seers, and soothsayers gathered in grand convocation, studying the heavens with an eye toward generating a symbol that would chart the course of lives for the next millennium. Thus it was that venerable Taurus was retired in favor of its replacement: Ipod.

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September 26, 2006

David: Yawp

"Is this how it ends, blindfolded, hanging on a hook?" said the condemned man.

The jailor replied, "You're not the first."

"That's the thing. I'm just another victim of the regime. I lived, I’ll die, and no one will ever know I existed."

"You'll die anyway. Does someone remembering matter?"

"Yes!" the condemned man cried, and laughed. "No, I suppose not.”

The cell clanged open. Two troopers lifted him off the hook. "What is your name?" the jailor asked.

"Kevin," Kevin replied before they dragged him away.

The jailor took out a marker and wrote his memory on the wall.

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September 27, 2006

David: Impromptu Vacation

The businessman dragged himself out of the ocean. Miraculously, he had survived the crash. Incredibly, he had washed up on land. He pulled out his cellphone: ruined.

“I guess three was too much to ask for.”

The island was smallish, with a beach and a palm forest. The sky was blue. The sun was warm. The surf swept soothingly in and out.

“Could be worse.” He removed his shoes and tie. “Search and rescue will be along. I’ll just relax until then.”

Someone stepped from the tree line.

“Hello?”

The stranger stared. Finally, he said, “Yew got a purty mouth.”

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September 28, 2006

David: Film At 11

The ball game paused when the flying saucer appeared. The crowd first thought it was some kind of special effect. By the time they realized it was real, the moment of panic had passed. Uncertainly, they watched.

The center of the disc irised open, and numerous shapes poured out. They rushed down into the stadium. And kept rushing. The first one impacted the pitcher’s mound. Soon, the infield overflowed with the broken corpses of lemming-like aliens.

The ship resealed and flew away. The shaken alien commander reported to his superior, “As Gloknar is my witness, I thought shocktroopers could fly.”

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September 29, 2006

David: The Job

“Your target is one Mabel Johnson, local businesswoman,” said the digitally altered voce on the phone. “A full dossier has been placed at drop location three.”

“Understood,” the anonymous assassin replied.

“Special notes,” the voice continued. “The client wants the contract completed before 8 Friday morning. Accident or apparent suicide preferred. Client wants it painful and bloody.”

“Not much time to arrange something like that.”

“You have our confidence. Client has offered double payment. You get the usual percentage.”

“Accepted,” the assassin said, and hung up.

“What are the odds?” Mr. Johnson wondered as he drove to the drop point.

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October 2, 2006

David: Bystander

I looked up stoically at the pair of gentlemen suddenly waving firearms at me.

One of them started, “Don’t move, Mar—“

“Wrong office,” I said simply.

“Don’t—what?”

“You’re looking for the PI, right? His office is 1403 West Sunset. This is 1403 East Sunset.”

The men looked at each other, then back at me. “Oh.” One scratched his head with his gun. “Um, sorry.”

“No problem. Happens all the time.”

“We’ll be on our way, then, I guess. Do us a favor, and don’t let him know we’re coming.”

“He’s never done anything for me. You boys have fun.”

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October 3, 2006

David: Media Whore

Five networks, sixty seven cable channels, two video cassette recorders, three hours of prime time.
Sitcoms, crime shows, legal shows, military shows, behind the scenes shows, quirky family dramas, disaster shows, science shows, mystery shows, science fiction shows, reality shows, serials.
New series, replays of former pay channel series, returning shows, new shows.
Two hundred DVDs.
Sorkin, Abrams, Whedon.

I watch. I tape. I watch what I tape. I can’t wait because there’s more coming tomorrow. Average six hours of quality programming every night. Then I have to see what they think on the internet.

Sleep is for the weak.

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October 4, 2006

David: Two Guys

“Hey, man, what’s wrong? You look rough.”

“It’s nothing. I’m just feeling blue. There’s this girl I’m seeing. She sounds bright and looks hot, but she has no taste. She wears loud colors that clash.”

“That sounds like it stinks. But does she feel sweet on you?”

“She says so. But she won’t listen to what I try to show her.”

“I can see how she feels. If you push her too hard she’ll disappear. Do you want that?”

“What you just said? That was touching.”

“Don’t let this make you feel bitter. Listen, I gotta split. Smell you later.”

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October 5, 2006

David: Left Behind

Pooh drifted over the Hundred Acre Wood, hanging from the balloon string. Christopher Robin had not visited for weeks, and Piglet had become worried. So they set off to find him, Kanga bounding to the south, Tigger sproinging to the east, Rabbit hopping north, and Pooh carried west, aloft again, and more frightened than ever.

The sky was stormy as Pooh reached the border of the Hundred Acre Wood. Shocked, Pooh let go the balloon and fell to the ground. He stared uncomprehendingly at the barren wasteland, scoured of all evidence of life by nuclear fire.

“Oh, bother,” said Pooh.

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October 6, 2006

David: True Story

“So, there are no tracks around him anywhere?”

“Nope,” Dad replied.

“Did… the wind blow them away?”

“Nope,” he repeated.

“He’s got a ring on his finger. Why?” my brother wondered.

“He’s married? A married hiker? It explains the backpack.”

“Yeah, but what does that have to do with his lying dead in the middle of the desert?”

“Beats me. Maybe his wife killed him, dumped him here, and erased her tracks as she left.” I looked at Dad. He shook his head.

“We don’t have enough information,” I concluded erroneously. “Let’s think about the guy in the elevator again.”

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