The next morning he would remember for the rest of his life. Ethan saw the IV in his arm. At first it was scary for a needle surrounded by tape was stuck in the bend of his arm. And it felt cold. It felt very cold. There was no pressure keeping his blood inside him because nothing was being put into his vein, the saline solution had run out. Alas, due to the low pressure, the blood crept up the tube.

The soluble properties of the saline left in the tube let the blood slide up the tube as if taking it over through an invasion. Creeping along and conquering the tube as it went, the crimson of the blood was intensified by the liquidity and smoothness of the saline, the darkness and richness as well. The situation intensified until it consumed him. His soul, his mind, and his body could concentrate on nothing else. It consumed his being until he could do and pay attention to nothing else.

As time slowly passed in the hospital, it Ethan felt more and more confined. Little oddities about the hospital and its staff began to pick up his attention: not everyone would wash their hands, sick people walked about everywhere, and the female doctors seemed to be too scantily clad to be working in a professional place such as a hospital. Luckily for Ethan, or so he felt, he was finally able to leave.

Part II
On the outside, everything seemed to be fine. Working again, he began to touch base with some old friends. He even started to go to church, which was what surprised him the most because he was an ardent atheist before spending time in the hospital.

What disturbed Ethan the most after leaving the hospital, the thing that was the most off-putting, was that every dream started to be about the flow of a liquidy substance. It would flow about in his mind, overpowering his thoughts with Beauty and Ecstasy. To him, he knew that it was the life substance that started and ended everything; it was needed – it needed to be kept and it needed to flow. And then he would wake up in an elated state that would soon disappear, never to be found again until the next night.

There was not a noticeable change on the 11th day after his leave of the hospital. Ethan walked back from eating dinner with a friend on Fillmore Street, when the need to feel Bliss overtook his being. He went into a frenzy. He searched high-and-low for the location of his Pleasure; the one that he could not find after sleep.

And then it arrived to Ethan, as if St. Gabriel was whispering it to him in his ear. He saw a woman leave her house. Minutes after the first woman’s departure, a different woman entered that house and he could hear their moans and groans. God had given Ethan a task. 

Part III
Like a faithful servant, Ethan knocked on this front door. Much to the dismay of the man who answered, who had only been expecting a delivery from UPS that day. Grumbling and moaning in only his underwear, he opened the door, but not to find his wife’s 51st birthday present being delivered – he was delivered, instead, a quick present from God’s servant. He was given a volley of blows from a stone to the head. Shortly afterward, the adulterer was not of this Earth anymore. He was gone. His soul salvaged and his Euphoric blood flowed covered Ethan. 

He returned home in a stupor, meandering from one street to the next. No clear memories rest in Ethan of that night from the time of dinner to his return home. All he could remember, physically, was a fuzzy world and wandering, probably a dream of his. Though he did remember an immense joy taking over his body. He found his Ecstasy, the one from his dream world, but in the real world. 

Taken over by the ecstatic power, he returned to his church for prayer. He consulted the good book for a way of life. He looked for rules, order, anything that would make his life orderly and help him find his Rapture. And these he found: laws that decreed how life shall and will be lived and the punishments that brought about Bliss. He found logic, tranquility, and joys in these laws. 

Part IV
Ethan knew his mission. He must cleanse this world of sinners, like that of the adulterer. To help guide him, he made a list of rules. If they were not followed letter for letter, word by word, Ethan would let the offender know and save their soul. 

Walking on Scott Street toward the bay late at night, Ethan saw a person walking in the opposite direction. He immediately recognized this person to be a cross dresser, a transgender man pretending to be a woman, or a woman pretending to be a man. Regardless, Ethan saw it as a despicable act, as something that should be eradicated. Immediately, like a good servant, Ethan remembered the Lord’s words from Deuteronomy 22.5, “A woman shall not wear a man’s apparel, nor shall a man put on a woman’s garment; for whoever does such things is abhorrent to the LORD your God”.

Following this person, if it could be called a human, Ethan readied himself for the attacked. He turned right on Jackson Street while the monstrosity continued towards Pacific Avenue. Running down Jackson Street, veering left at Pierce Street, and then another left on Pacific Avenue, Ethan caught up with the demon before the beast could realize what was happening. Slaughtering it and salvaging his soul, Ethan bathed in the Ecstasy from the blood that flowed from the hell-bent beast in human skin.

Two days later, a day after the headline “Hate Crime, Transgender Woman Killed on Scott and Pacific” was printed in the San Francisco Chronicle, Ethan saw another sacrilegious crime. A young man walked into his neighbor’s house while Ethan overheard their conversation. His neighbor was lending the other man some money to buy groceries. He was giving the money in his own house. And as Ethan knew perfectly well from Deuteronomy 24.10-24.11, “When you make your neighbor a loan of any kind, you shall not go into the house to take the pledge. You shall wait outside, while the person to whom you are making the loans brings the pledge to you”.

Planning to eradicate and free this troubled soul, Ethan returned later that night to the demon’s abode on Lyon Street. Knocking on the door, the troubled young man answered, and the Lord’s servant saved him. Euphoria flowed out of him, spilling onto the ground and Ethan, flowing down the steps, until a few old VHS tapes that the young man was giving away for free stopped the thick and viscous liquid.

Rejoicing in his newfound glory and mission, Ethan was weary for he knew that Lucifer’s servants were about and would stop him if they could, especially if his garments were seen at this moment. To stop this problematic situation, he burned his shirts and pants on the corner of Lyon and Washington Street. Ethan knew now, after carrying out his third task, that he now had a purpose in life: he must make the Earth a proper and clean place for good folks to live in. He must be the cleaner, custodian, and caretaker of his corner of God’s realm, of San Francisco.

Three days later, two days after the headline “Hate Crime, Arabic Man Killed on Lyon Street”, Ethan was witness to another perversion, another travesty. He saw two burly young men, probably sinners against the Lord, walking westward along Clayton Street. One of them was named Amalek, the other Jonathon. Ethan knew this for he overheard their conversation and he immediately remembered the words from Deuteronomy 25.19, “You shall blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven; do not forget.”

Overcome with zeal and devotion to God’s will, Ethan could not restrain himself. He pulled out his cleaning knife and commenced to stab Amalek in the back, covering his hands in a Euphoric liquid. Much to his surprise this time, Amalek’s partner Jonathon, another demon no doubt, protected Amalek. He protruded his hand like and took the blow as a shield would, instead of Amalek. Amalek, a tired and weary man, immediately turned, took the knife out of Jonathon’s hand and like a well trained savage stabbed the Lord’s servant, God’s faithful friend, multiple times in the chest and arms. Luckily for Ethan his heart and lungs were missed by the diabolical piercings.

Part V
“Oh God. Oh God am I in pain. I’ve been hurt before, but never like this. Oh God why am I in pain? All I did, as your faithful servant, was better this world. It was dirty and I helped clean – I made this place safer. I found them and helped them. I changed them. I made them angelic, celestial, and divine after I saved them. I salvaged their souls. Oh God, why forsake your servant?” were the only thoughts that crashed into Ethan’s head.

These words repeated in Ethan’s head throughout the voyage to the California Pacific medical center. He could not concentrate. He knew neither where he was nor where he was going. All that Ethan knew was that someone, a minion of the devil, had attacked him. And his fear was only heightened because of the blasting sirens, flashing lights, and jerky car ride.

People scampered to and fro around him. They told him that he would be okay, that he will survive. Yet every word coming out of their mouths sounded demonic and foreign to him. Their very presence only served to frighten Ethan even more. The intravenous needles constantly missed the proper vein during the bumpy and hectic journey, only further frustrating Ethan.

A message from God himself, not from one of his lackeys arrived to Ethan in the ambulance ride: God will protect him from all devils after leaving the hospital. Ethan will make sure that people are even safer and happier because of him. They will remember him as a rescuer and redeemer. They will remember him as the true man that he knows he is, as the good man that he knows he is. These thoughts and messages of grandeur and promise only served to increase Ethan’s delirium.

He could barely recognize anything in his daze. A snippet of a conversation here, another little bit there, maybe one or two words. Yet they still made no sense to him, they all sounded like a demonic tongue, not the angelic one that was all too familiar to him by now.

Trying to comprehend their conversation, he saw the paramedics put an IV in his arm. The bag eventually ran out. His blood, a Euphoric, Ecstatic, Blissful, Angelic liquid travelled up it.

Ethan knew that the Bliss and Euphoria crawling up the IV tube meant that God was pleased with his work. He left the hospital a last time to sit at God’s side for the rest of eternity knowing that that he did good and just work.

Ah, falafel, what is there to not like about you?

Ignore that question and let me start again. Ah, falafel, I like everything about you. Falafel, you are amazing. Poetic verse and prose roll from my tongue every time I think about you…

Falafel, you are the king of food.
You taste great with hummus,
and you will never leave us.

…But I digress. I am not here to write poems about the wonders of this magical food. I am here to write, to you, about falafel and its majestic majestic-ness. First off, I believe that it is necessary that you see a picture of falafel so that you can catch a glimpse of its stunning beauty.

Photo Copyright © 2007 The Hummus Blog by Tal and Shooky Galili

YUM!

Doesn’t that look scrumptious? I think that it does. In fact, I think that anything falafel looks AND (usually) tastes delicious. Falafel is made from boiled balls of ground chick peas. It originated in Egypt, so you know that it must be good. It is often eaten in the Middle East and the Mediterranean.

Falafel is most often found accompanied by hummus, pita bread, tahini sauce, tomatoes, zucchini, onions, and other assorted vegetables and spices. It can, however, be eaten with other things. For example, I had falafel just the other day on my burger, and my god did it improve the taste of that burger. I’ve also eaten it with avocado, another delight.

There are some splendid and mouthwatering restaurants in San Francisco where you can purchase a great falafel dish, or two or three. The two that I frequent most often are Yumma’s, located at 9th and Irving, and the other one is called Truly Mediterranean, located at 16th and Valencia, though I’m sure that there are many others. Now that I’m writing this I really want to eat falafel. Luckily for me though, I will be dining at Truly Mediterranean tomorrow for lunch, and I encourage you to do the same (or at any place that serves falafel).

In conclusion, falafel is an amazing food. Eat it with any and everything. Experiment. Have fun. And if you find something or someplace good that is related to falafel, don’t hesitate to tell me!

Now, let me write another poem inspired by the beauty and sensation called falafel:

Oh how I love you.
Oh how I adore you.
I would be lost without you.
You are wonderful.
You taste wonderful.
(In fact, you are so delectable that I will eat you tomorrow.)

]]> http://www.bamboozled.org/2009/07/an-ode-to-falafel/feed/ 2 http://www.bamboozled.org/2009/07/nordwand-north-face/ http://www.bamboozled.org/2009/07/nordwand-north-face/#comments Thu, 02 Jul 2009 08:17:07 +0000 jacob http://www.bamboozled.org/?p=1415 Nordwand
North Face

I cannot recommend this movie enough, but let me at least try to do it some justice. Nordwand (North Face) is a German film directed by Philipp Stölzl. If you watch it, you will be blessed by its enchanting glow and tragic story for 121 minutes.

It is a film about bravery, love, conquest, patriotism, friendship, home, family, death, and much, much more. The movie is based on a true story about two climbers, Toni Kurz and Andreas Hinterstoisser, and their childhood friend. It starts in pre-WWII Germany with a woman who works at a German newspaper and who loves to take photographs. She is a secretary to the newspaper’s executives and overhears them discuss the death of a famous mountain climbing pair who perished on the last unconquered face of the Swiss Alps: the perilous North Face of Eiger Mountain. She then remembers that she has two friends at home who love to climb and returns home to try and convince them to climb the North Face so that she can document their ascension.

Toni Kurz and Andreas Hinterstoisser work for the army, but they climb as often as possible. In an early scene you see them climbing the face of a mountain while cameras are panning all around them, showing you splendid skies and awe-inspiring mountains in the background. In the foreground you see the two climbs struggle to conquer nature as they pave their way up one of Earth’s many sleeping giants. They sweat and toil to survive on an incredibly steep, crumbly, and rocky slope, sometimes falling and being caught by a rope and at times running across the surface of vertical surfaces. At the top of the mountain, like at the top of every other mountain he has climbed, Toni Kurtz takes out his journal and writes of their ascension as cameras circle the pair and once again show you breathtaking surrounding mountainous region.

Since the climb takes place pre-WWII Europe, patriotism and fame are hot topics. The German’s wanted to be the first to conquer the mountain for the greatness of Germany and her people. However, other nations have their eyes set on such a goal as well: glory for their nation. Thus, the climb turns into a race whose reward is far greater than that of self satisfaction, money, and fame.

Through the climb and everyone assembled to watch the ascent the film tragically portrays the extent of people’s patriotism and what they will do for love and companionship. It explores peoples’ ambitions for themselves and others. It looks at love and jealousy. It searches for meaning in a home, in a country, in a quest. It shows people in their most vulnerable moments and the tough decisions that they must face.

As stated at the beginning: I cannot recommend this movie enough or it enough praise. But now that this article is over, go out and rent Nordwand (North Face) with a loved one or a dear friend and don’t forget to bring at least one box of tissues.

——————-

Here is a link Nordwand (North Face) on IMDb: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0844457/

And here is a link to Nordwand (North Face) on Rotten Tomatoes (it got 100%): http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/10010612/

“Fuck spidergoats,” I thought I saw Marvin mouth outside of my window. I could not hear him, but I could see his lips move. “Yeah, they are going to take over Planet Earth with a kind of spidersilk that flows from their udders; how utterly wonderful,” I responded.

Love,

Jacob, James, Kyle, Willo

P.S. Kyle got a call from someone in Manhattan today.

To live in the city was a gamble. Wealth and fame, the true gold rush, was rarely achieved. Poverty and obscurity was the more common prize. Throngs of immigrants swarmed the city to find a better life. Some came because they had nothing. Others came to escape their dull lives in the suburbs. Everyone came with a purpose to achieve or attain what he or she did not have before. Many were disappointed.

• • •

An anonymous old man, humbled by his greying hair and slouched shoulders and missing the middle button of his blazer, walked into a café. The café was full of the noise of the self-isolation that comes from reading newspapers alone. Cardboard coffee cups were picked up, sipped, and put down. Noses were sniffled and effectively wiped. Yet throughout all of this, everyone kept to him or herself, never interacting with another person if they could help it.

Confusedly, the old man paced up and down next to the counter. Lost in thought and seemingly trapped in his own mind, he snapped, came to, and stared up at the array of foods and beverages offered for consumption. His modest stare scanned the blackboard, picking up its every detail.

He ordered green tea and a slice of lemon poppy seed cake, topped with cream cheese frosting. As in concordance with the rest of the city, the order was taken somberly and finished with a melancholic “Thank you” from the barista as he handed the old man his warm pastry and steaming beverage.

Taking his new found treats, the old man once again fell into a trance. Searching for a place to sit and enjoy his meal, he saw a young man seated at a table that would splinter at every touch. The young man was either a student or a recent university graduate with a conceited and arrogant aura surrounding him. He held a newspaper in one hand and tapped a pen against the table with the other. In front of him was a cup of coffee and a blueberry scone, both of them barely touched.

The old man walked over to the table, politely asking its current inhabitant whether he could sit down and enjoy his meal at the other end. Obsessed with himself, the young man agreed with a wave of his hand, never looking up from the newspaper.

As the old man sat down, he started to talk. The student or recent graduate thought that like the usual crazy person, the old man was talking to himself. He realized more and more that the words were aimed at him. Annoyed by the distraction, he shooed the old man away with his free hand. After thirty seconds of his chatter, the young man put down his paper to talk face to face to the old man. But the old man was too intent on expressing himself; the young man had no choice but to listen.

“… And then she was born. We were so happy in those times. Everyone was happy then. Not like today where everyone thinks only of himself, never smiling to a stranger, or even to a friend for that matter.

“My poor wife could not take the strain of childbirth and died shortly after delivering the most beautiful baby I have ever seen. Betsy was her name…

“We were content to live outside of this accursed city. I was a teacher at the local school, a math teacher. But my mind is wandering and is no longer held on a leash now that I am old.

“I did my best to raise her. And oh how gorgeous and cheerful she was. At age seven I took her to see her first movie in the theaters. It was an old animated one. The heroine was very brave and beautiful. She ventured the four corners of the Earth in search for her lost husband. He was a blind, young, handsome, and humble man whom she loved very much. He was kidnapped the day after their wedding. I cannot remember her name, the name of the protagonist, but she was very heroic.

“After the movie, Betsy was so infatuated with her that for weeks afterward we would wander around the neighboring forest trying and find the heroine of the movie. We wanted to help her with her quest. You see, this was a two-part movie, the sequel was supposed to come out a month later, but the studio stopped its funding. Well, they left off the first movie with the heroine in the forest, approaching the evil castle of the bad man, hence our adventures.

“Well, as luck would have it, or in our case not have it, we had to leave our little heaven. Everyone else left, searching for a better life in the city. They were all seeking its promises. Left with no one to teach and no food to eat, we were forced to move as well. And that’s when our problems began.

“Sure, it was fine at the beginning. We had a small apartment and I was lucky to be a teacher again. Though this time at a large school where no one cares like they do in the country. Betsy went there and made some good friends. But this foul city eventually consumes everything good.

“As she grew, so did the city’s influence on her. It began to consume her soul and life. She would go out every night, sometimes not returning until well after dark. And as you can imagine, I would worry for her. Well, time went by and we began to argue. That seemed the natural thing to do then, to argue, but now I know that it is not and I regret every argument that we had with every fiber of my being.

“She grew up even more and moved away for her studies. This was good for us because I was proud of her. We had no more arguments. I could not, in fact, be more proud of her. My only daughter, my beautiful little girl, took her life into her hands. She wanted to make the most of it, so she went to college.

“College was a different place then her old school and her old life. It was a caring and nourishing environment. She had beautiful friends there. She studied hard, and because of the time consumed by her schoolwork, we talked less and less.

“She graduated and wanted nothing more to do with her washed up father. She moved on to bigger, better, and grander things in life. She left her past and myself in the dust, only to have memories of us resurface on rare occasions when she feels nostalgic. She may have a career. She may have a husband. I may have grandchildren. I don’t know, I just don’t know…”

Finishing the last drop of his tea and the last bite of his cake, the old man slowly rose from the table. He wiped the crumbs from his facial hair with a brown paper napkin and reached for the coat that he placed on the back of his chair. Putting it on, he sauntered to the barista, said another thank you, and disappeared into the despondent and somber city.

The young man continued to sit as his old neighbor rose and left. After watching the door for a few more minutes, he picked up his newspaper and continued to read.