.............................................. .* * \ /\ .* O . . .. ..O .. 332 10 Apr 2001 ) ( ') .* O O* o o o o o o o ( / ) * ***O O O O O O O O O \( _)| * O o o.*..o.*..o.*..o. .net "Deserthead" * * O * *. o |\ _,,,---,,_ * * /,`.-'`' -. ;-;;,_ * * |,4- ) )-,_..;\ ( `'-' by The Corpse * * '---''(_/--' `-'\_) *mE0w* o *. .......................................* 'Anada is cat-friendly..o*` Twilight, somewhere near the California border, far enough from the greedy ocean to keep the shakes down. We’d built a fire, pitched a couple tents, lit cigarettes, passed the bottle of mindwater around. Mindwater: Ob’s name for lychee juice and LSD, with a shot of vodka in there just for laughs. Plenty of regular water around. This was the desert, after all. Cold as hell, too, so blankets were available. The stars out here never ceased to kill me. Someone’s/something’s celestial shotgun had gone off a few billion times, blowing holes in the cosmos, letting the light in from the otherside. Gas leaks from another dimension. Even when I didn’t have anything in me, they were a heavy sight, those stars. A few long pulls of mindwater made the gas leaks ooze into new arrangements, postmodern takes on the classical constellations. Maybe this is where James Joyce got his ideas— the restructuring of the heavenly vault. “Why Joyce?” Ob asked, cigarette wedged between the broken fenceposts of his teeth. First thing came to mind, that’s why. I never valued coherency or consistency of thought. Ob did. That’s why he always drove, read maps, that sort of thing. My mind was a bulletin board covered in the scraps of every thought I’d ever had; no time for organization, no need, no desire. I could sort it out all right. I disliked the ocean. Water always lapping up at you, trying to suck you down like it was thirsty. Why would the ocean be thirsty, given its liquid nature? Again, poor logic, but interesting theoretics at work. The desert was it for me, dry, pure, quiet (usually), home of thought and hopefully dervishes. Ocean consumed too much brainpower for my taste, you know? “I’ve heard this all before,” Ob always said whenever I went off about the desert/ocean mindset. I didn’t care—the desert was my eternal plain and plane of thought and with enough (mind)water I could travel it forever. .................................................................. /\_/\ * ( o.o ) (c) Anada e'zine anada332 by The Corpse o > ^ < o ********************************************************************