Happy, happy

The engine warning light is on, I say to the mechanic. Can you plug it in and see what’s wrong? Also the windshield is cracked and the back seat windows roll themselves down.
You’ll have to leave it here, he says. We’ll call you later than you expect and say something cryptic only car guys understand. Or better yet, we’ll wait so long to call you that you call us first.
Sounds good, I say. Can you have your cleaning lady drive me to the station?
Will do, he says.
I am happy because I catch the same train as always (the one I take on the days I use that station because I drop Gamma there, and not the usual station nearer our house).
Then I am happy because the bus doesn’t drive away without me.
Then I am happy because I figure out relatively quickly that the connecting bus isn’t operating because school vacations.
Then I am happy because I can just cross the street and take a subway to a different bus.
Then I am happy because, when I trip and fall on my face entering the station, I don’t break anything. Fuck you too, ground.
Then, because so many nice people stop and ask me if I’m okay, including a man in a black fedora and an attractive young woman.
Then, because, when I tell them I think I’m fine, they all look at me and ask, Are you sure? Which suggests it was really spectacular.
Then, because, thinking about it, I had managed to avoid falling on the guy in front of me, which would have caused a domino-like catastrophic group fall in the subway station.
Then because the next bus isn’t very full because school vacation.
Then because two crows greet me at the office, demanding dog food.
Then because I am sitting down at my desk before I realize I am dizzy.
Then because youtube suggests a bunch of dark ambient music.
Then because the crows are all, like, waddup? And I’m like, waddup? And they’re like, this is so fucked. And I’m like, what. And they’re like, whaddya mean what? Everything dude. And I’m like, now would be a good time for like aliens or god or someone to intervene. And they’re like, what are you talking about, you’re the god of the office. And I’m like, oh yeah I forgot.
But that’s a non-interventive position.
Unfortunately.

2020 metamorphosism.com international St. Valentine’s Day limerick contest

Nosfera2

Thank you for visiting the 2020 metamorphosism.com International St. Valentine’s Day Limerick Contest. Entries are now closed! I am leaving comments open for a while for congratulations and well-wishes to the contestants.

Winner this year is dark-horse entrant Perry Iles. Congratulations, Perry.
It was a close decision, this year, between Perry Iles and runner-up KayO.
Thanks to Perry, KayO and Tim, who gets extra points for mentioning bergamot marmalade.
See you next year!

Welcome to the 2020 edition of the metamorphosism.com International St. Valentine’s Day Limerick Contest.
2020.
I remember when 2000 was the distant future.
Now it’s 20 years after that.
Wow.
Anyway:
As always, please leave your entries in the comments to this post.
Enter as often as you like.
Please note the following: this year’s contest image, up there at the top, is Nosferatu, and I believe in the public domain, signifying that once again there will be extra points for HORROR, in keeping with the very stupid apocalyptican feel of current events. Ideally, the image would be mashed up with something gangster-related for the Klept/corruption theme going around too in current events, but honestly I couldn’t be arsed this year. But there will also be extra points for corruption.
This year’s themes (in addition to the above):
(Also check further down the rules for newer and/or more specific prompts/themes)
Sex
Love
Obsolete arts and technologies
Fetishes
APOCAPLEXIA
,
plus bonus themes to be added as the contest progresses
All participants are required to consult the combined FAQ/rules below BECAUSE THEY CHANGE WHILE THE CONTEST IS GOING ON.
Like every year.

FAQ/Rules

  • Does it have to be a limerick? YES. This is strictly enforced, and non-limericks will not be accepted. Google correct limerick form if you are not sure.
  • How do I enter? POST YOUR ENTRY OR ENTRIES in the comments to this post. Click on comment, or whatever is down there, and add a new comment.
  • When is the deadline? THE DEADLINE is 14 February 2020
  • Do you mean 12 midnight on the night of the 13th or midnight on the night of the 14th? And which time zone shall have seisin of jurisdiction? We have had considerably confusion in the past! NINE AM (CENTRAL EUROPEAN TIME) 14 February 2020.
  • Is there a prize? Maybe. I don’t know yet.
  • Is there a limit to how often I can enter? NO. Enter as often as you like. The more often you enter, the better your chances.
  • HOWEVER ONLY ORIGINAL ENTRIES ARE ACCEPTED. PLAGIARISM RESULTS IN DISQUALIFICATION. No exceptions made for the current First Lady of the USA.
  • Can entries be bawdy? YES, absolutely. These are limericks, they can be bawdy, gross, you name it. It’s not required, but it is in the nature of the genre. ALSO: this is for St. Valentine’s Day so points awarded for love/romance/sex-related poetry. However, entries offensive to the contest operator will be deleted at his discretion, for offenses including but not limited to racism, and misogyny, and politics to which I object.
  • Complaints and other negative trolling will be deleted. There is no avenue of appeal. Decisions of the judges are final. Be nice, and have fun, and don’t take this too seriously.
  • Is there anything else I can do to be deleted? Yes. Besides complaints, anything else that is not a limerick will also be deleted, especially anything remotely similar to trolling, nastiness or disagreeing with me. That will get you deleted, and whatever else our technicians here can think up. This is meant to be a fun and light-hearted.

Let’s see, what else? Oh yes.

  • Bonus points are awarded for any of the following (No limit to how many themes you may include, the more the better):
  • Embarrassing public clumsiness. Concussions, possibly and/or A Concussed History of Scotland. Mechanical problems. Slapstick. The definition of “apocalypse”: end of the world or revelation? Will Nancy Pelosi make bunny ears behind Trump’s head when he announces the Final Solution? (<--That joke originally seen in a Sandra Newman tweet). Reproductive strategies of insects. Diseases affecting the human brain. 19th-century theories regarding sex.
    Entries in the DSM-5 (or, for those so inclined, the ICD-10). Time travel. Prosopagnosia. Earthworms. Anti-fascism. (From recent suggestions)

    Summary, in limerick form, of movies based on Cormac McCarthy novels
    More will be added as the month progresses

    (More themes to come, watch this space.)

By entering you grant metamorphosism.com permission to publish your entry electronically on metamorphosism.com, in social media (including but not limited to twitter.com, facebook.com and anything else) as well as in book form, although the latter is REALLY unlikely, and has never happened yet, without compensation (this is a non-profit venture, and any possible, although unlikely, book would be, you know, for charity most likely). I have never published them anywhere but here, but who knows?
AS ALWAYS, RULES ARE SUBJECT TO CONSTANT CHANGE DURING THE CONTEST, SO CHECK BACK OFTEN.

The Light of Peace

On Christmas Day
we celebrated at our house
I picked up my in-laws at their house
and drove them to our house.
They are old and wobbly
and there are lots of stairs
so it took a while to get them into my car
also my mother-in-law had a flame
the Light of Peace
that had come all the way from Jerusalem
that she wanted to share with us
and we had to be careful with that
so as not to light anything on fire
and especially not let it go out.
it was in the form of a candle, protected in a little
wood and glass lantern type thing.
she put that into a pot and carried the pot
for extra protection of all involved.
the light, as i understand it, someone goes to jerusalem
and sets something on fire from the Light of Peace there
and hurries back with it before it goes out
then they light more things on fire
and take them to churches
where people come and light other things, usually candles
and take them home
where the Light of Peace
shines on Christmas.
their neighbor had gone to church to get a flame
and come over and lit their candle for them
doubling the Light of Peace.
all the way to my house it smelled like something was burning
in my car but it was only the Light of Peace.
at my house everyone stood around
and watched
while I took out our candle
or rather put their candle-lantern thing into a larger lantern
of ours
a big glass affair
and took our candle and a long wooden match
with which to transfer the Light of Peace to our new candle
while leaving their candle burning
thus doubling yet again the Light of Peace
but instead, with the large match, I pressed the first candle’s wick
into the melted wax
extinguishing the Light of Peace
undeniably, before five witnesses
fuck, I said.
it’s like that Jack London story with the trapper starting a fire in winter,
i said
but none of them were Jack London fans.

Improving the urban experience

I was just wondering
if commuting would be improved
by more vocal Jehovah’s Witnesses
like, if they cat-called
passersby, like
hey, sinner, hey, hey!
and instead of just holding their
Watchtowers, they waved them
or fanned themselves with them
when they got hot in their overcoats
hey, enjoy your apocalypse, sinner!
sinner, hey!

Fuller Disclosure (Full Disclosure Part II)

Beta: (Returns from exotic mission to exotic country XYZ)
Beta: Boy, am I tired.
Beta: (Reads blog post)
Beta: Hrm.
Beta: Dad, if kidnappers kidnap you they want ransom. So your family would already know.
Mig: Uh…
Beta: Especially if they cut off your fingertip. It would be used to emphasize their ransom demand. So your family would already know about that too. Your train of thought makes no sense.
Mig: It was a fresh train of thought, I was still in the midst of thinking it, I hadn’t examined it for logical consistency yet.
Beta: (Raises one devastating eyebrow devastatingly)
Mig: Fresh, I tell you.

Full disclosure

Mig: Hi. Watcha doin’?
Gamma: Well I was going to do yoga but I got stuck taking tests online.
Gamma: I wondered if I could name 20 elements, so I took a quiz, then I fell down a quiz hole for an hour.
Mig: Ah.
Mig: Your mother asked me what I was thinking. I said, well, I was thinking if someone kidnapped me and cut off the tip of one of my fingers, and then released me but threatened my family if I told anyone, if I would tell anyone. And how long it would take her to notice one of my fingertips was missing.
Gamma: Ah.
Gamma: Well, actually, full disclosure, I was thinking, if we were on a quiz show where they killed you if you didn’t know the answer, would I be able to name 20 elements.
Mig: Ah.

On the musical liberation of the pineal gland

Ok.
So.
Apparently.
Apparently there is a genre of music on youtube, new-agey yogish, acupuncture-therapist-waiting-room-sounding meditative drony recordings, hours long, centering on one of a number of frequencies promising to help you release negative energy, liberate your pineal gland, or third eye, chakra healing, Kundalini something, increase brain power, attain divinity, and so on, depending on the frequency.
I’ve been listening to them at work because they are relaxing and don’t irritate my office-mate.
Today was pineal liberation day.
Pineal gland liberated, I went for my lunchtime stroll.
Report:
Three cars nearly hit me
and the crows shunned me (most of them).
A liberated pineal gland seems to create a force field that distracts drivers.
Or renders them homicidal.
And corvids are like,
Watch out! Kundalini energy! Forget this guy!
Hypothesis: the pineal gland was subjugated for a reason.
In the early days of human evolution
the forces of evolution gathered in the darkness
one said, we have to do something. About the pineus.
But they look so happy and relaxed and ten years younger, said another.
Yeah but they’re eventually going to invent cars and they’ll exterminate themselves, said the first.
(the forces of evolution looked like crows)
So, boom, subjugation of the pineal gland.