Another lucky day. Flight. DE2368 to HKT (Phuket). Eleven fucking hours to some exotic place. Why? To have conversation with other Urlaubers. Now that’s an exciting thought. And so. To start it all… a fellow with an interesting maustache, the kind with a triangle, perfectly manicured under the lower lip, introduced himself to the people who have to sit in the row with him. “Udo” he said. The people in the row said nothing. Why? Udo seems like such a nice Tiroler copy. Vest and all. Speaking of business (cross that last one out). For the first time I thought of the greater good in context of a discussion about corporatism. Self-interest seems to be the factor that drives the bottom line of the corporation. Right? But is that a given? Was it always this way? Can’t say for sure. But this can / should be connected with the likes of Thomas Edison. LOP and the idear of the greater good. Here a brief appearence by the return of JC. And Edison? JC a slob hanging out in places where he can find apostles. Happens across Edison. JC has to give up on (the) fisherman because there’s not place to fish anymore. So what is JC looking for while he’s here? The great inventor. Where does he look? Character (Stone) is a consultant who crosses JC and Edison path. Is there help for JC to be found? JC rationalization as Character (Stone) crosses the red states. With a drunkard, down on his luck Edison. Stone consults JC. But does JC consult him? What does Edison do? Work on this one. Get cohesive. Continuity. Enter the… The JC Trauma. What is the JC trauma? Is it the repercussion of meeting JC? Or is it the realization of what is behind the religious fanaticism ruining America combined with what will inevitably become a perversion of capitalism? Predatory capitalism making its come-back post Great Depression. Character (Stone) confronts a man who claims to be JC on the hunt for deciple. When asked (by Character) if he’s found any he responds in the non-affirmative. But there is this inventor. But what, dear worst-reader, does your JC say? Something profound? Or something not quite appropriate for the mouth of a messiah that has somehow landed in the mid-west of the USA. JC does explain how he got to the mid-west of the US. He spent most of the last two centuries roaming the cosmos and India looking for Thomas. Anywho. He got to the mid-west by ship. So. Mr. Worst-reader. Where in the mid-west of USA can a ship go to drop off JC? Is it possible that a ocean liner got caught in a river west of the Mississippi? Go there, T-bone. Put the mid-west inbetween the two coasts. A land locked place where JC can land with an ocean liner. And don’t forget that he has a cup. The cup. But what is a cup. The ship? The ship, cup, that sailed to the landlocked mid-west of that place between the two (US) poles. Don’t forget the great rivers, the Great Lakes. Or, perhaps, it is a ship that doesn’t have to have sailed anywhere. Instead it is a ship that was built where it is. JC, the son of … stepped out of line a few times after he arrived in heaven. God, the father, had a bit of trouble with the whole single parent thing. There were many things on gods’s mind and so he forgot a few things pertaining to his son. One day JC answered a few prayers for god. Having seen his dad do this he thought he could handle it. So when answering the prayers JC told the people praying that they had to build a ship. The thing about answering prayers. God answer prayers but he does it in a way that prevents it from being percieved as a miracle. The problem with miracles, god dreamed, is that when people get one, they can see through them. The miracles. The thing about prayers is that a prayer is not a prayer if it asks for a miracle. But even in this god wasn’t isn’t perfect. When god found out that JC answered a prayer and answered it badly god said that JC had to see it through. Which meant he had to go back down again. Fix his mess. How JC arrived in a ship that was landlocked. Why JC doesn’t fly. The story of JC on a ship in the mid-west USA. Could potentially use research here how the biblical miracles really happened. The whole miracle disillusion thing. JC the rebellious son of god, the father. JC roaming the cosmos and India. What am I to do with that? As though the cosmos has someting to do with India. Or does it? Didn’t Hinduism invent the cosmos? The debate about creationism. And what about the cool jobs that get you nowhere? Has nothing to do with JC cosmos, India and the mid-west. Or? Play. Aging. Getting old. Old vs. Young. Two characters that oppose each other. What makes them opposite? Both women. They have to work together and do well. Until something screws-up their Karma. I guess. These two women, one old (how to define that but remain subtle?) the other young (ditto?). The story culminates with the two realizing who/what they are. They are (somehow) the same person. One is a mother, the other a daughter. (Or the like.) The trilogy of the female. Mother, daughter… (and what’s next?) Or. One is a business executive, the other at the beginning of her professional career. But what are they doing? What brings them together in this story? Being a prolific writer means nothing in this day and age. Did it ever mean anything? H. Miller said, the greatest men have never written a thing. And why should one bother? Finding solace is or has to be about something else. Treating people equally, for example. The biggest gripe I have about exotic vacations is facing the working class of so-called poor nations. The people building and sculpting the bungalows and landscapes seem so content. Except for when they say how much they want a car. That was the key bomb for me last year on Mauritius. I will assume for cultural reasons, a Thailander will not come up to me and do the same thing. Where are all these notes going? In the notebook. Fool. I must eventually focus in love as well as writing. What’s the point of it all if it ultimately goes nowhere? The bleeding of energy. Must be bleeding off of energy? I would bleed off the ends of the world if the waves would follow me to where I live. Instead they (waves) act like the worst of the spoiled Georgian peaches flaying her wants to waiting takers. Oh the weight of fags (see graph next page) taking pictures of a beach while wearing tight pants. So they stop the waves of this beach from once again waknig up and caughing. Oh Kau Laak, you will rise above all with your smiling cares.
Stop.
-TS
worstwriter 