�You shall be late,� the Monkey says from his chair in the corner, pulling
on a cigar the colour and shape of a cat turd. His legs are crossed and he
gives an air of insouciant amusement. A cloud of smoke drifts towards the
ceiling.
�He really doesn�t want to go,� pipes the Tin of Frisky Bits cat food from
its place on the counter. �Or he wouldn�t still be here. All behaviour has
meaning,� it says, quoting someone whom it could not recall.
�Pipe down,� Jonathan snaps, trying yet again to tie his loincloth.
�You�re going like that?� enquires the Monkey with a raised eyebrow. My
word; it�s cold out you know.
And as if  in agreement the window rattles in it�s tattered and peeling
sash, a few flakes of snow ghosting across the fogged glass.
�It�s all part of the process of enlightenment,� says Jonathan rather
stiffly. Endurance, dissociation, letting go. Cold is nothing.�
�Well actually�� begins the affable Tin.
�Not now!� snaps Jonathan. There is a sudden pounding on the door. Everyone
falls silent, the monkey and the Tin giving each other knowing glances.
�Who could that be? says Jonathan, moving towards the door. His loincloth is
still not wrapped tight enough and he holds it up with one hand.
�Don�t open it!� cries the Tin. �It could be a can opener.�
�Or a vivisectionist!� says the monkey. Together they set up a bawling
clamour.
Jonathan plugs one ear against the noise and reaches for the doorknob. Just
as he swings it open the loincloth collapses to the floor with a satisfied,
cotton sigh.
�Yo, get a load of that!� says the hammer, whistling �If I had known, I
woulda brought flowers.�
�Dignity is an illusion,� replies Jonathan, bending down and lifting the
perfidious cloth.
�Oh, my, the evil eye,� chuckles the Monkey. �Pray, do us a favour and turn
the other way, old chap. There�s a good fellow. Frisky is positively
rattling with embarrassment.� Indeed, the Tin had almost vibrated off the
counter, resulting in a fall that might have dented its shiny, flawless
edge.
�May I help you?� asks Jonathan as the hammer pushes its way into the
barren, water-stained room.
�I doubt it,� replies the hammer. ��Wow, what a dump. You might�ve done
something with the place if you knew you were having company, sport.�
�Possessions enslave humanity,� says Tin. �Our houses are such unwieldy
property that we are often imprisoned rather than housed in them.�
�Yeah whatever, doll. You know, if you brought in a few stoned Goth chicks
this place could at least be funky.�
�What do you want?� says Jonathan, his face reddening and thinking to
himself, the Sufi shall not get pissed, the Sufi shall not get pissed.
�You called me, remember, dude �hey, there�s a monkey in here.�
�I called you?�
�Does it do tricks? I bet it craps all over the place.�
�I beg your pardon,� the Monkey replies, offended. �I use the facilities as
any civilized person would.�
A silence falls on the party.
 
�I didn�t call you.� Jonathan says slowly.
The hammer turns to Jonathan. �No? When was the last time you talked to a
hammer?�
�Well��
�Not too bright are you? Say, you on crack? Is this guy a tweaker?� he asks
the monkey.�
�I say��
�That was just mediation,� Jonathan stammers. I didn�t mean for��
�Well you did it, sport. And I�m the prize, the gold medal, the basket of
fruit from the boss, the sister-in-law�s tongue in your mouth at New Years.
Give yourself a hand.�
�You most certainly are going to be late,� interrupts the Monkey.
�Oh hell, says Jonathan tying his loincloth. Anyone see my fedora?�
�Time is relative,� chimed the Tin.
�What�s the rush?� asks the hammer.
The monkey scratches himself. �He�s got a Yogic Flying conference to attend,
but he�s beastly late,�
�No kidding,� says the hammer. �Well, I wouldn�t worry about it if I were
you.�
Jonathan places his hat on his balding head. �Why,� he asks.
�World�s gonna end.�
�What?�
�Yup.� Heard it from the dumpster in the alleyway. Hears all kind of stuff
from all the crap that gets thrown in there. You�ve really woke this
building up, you know.�
�I have? Wow � hey, the world can�t end!�
��Fraid so, Einstein.� Big American military-industrial complex experiment
thing. Privately bankrolled by Microsoft and Frito-Lay. The thinking goes
that if you destroy the world it�ll give the Chinese second thoughts about
becoming the next world power. Got some bright sparks down there, fer sure.�
�I don�t believe it. What does a dumpster know.�
�Why? �Just �cause he�s not 90% water and doesn�t subscribe to pony fetish
mags? He got the scoop from a senator�s condom. Dude has a girl on the
seventh floor. Poly-sci grad student.�
�But this is terrible! Those magazines are just research�no, no, no,�
Jonathan shakes his head. �When is this supposed to happen?�
�Sometime in the next few days. Don�t really matter tho, a day here a day
there. Dance like there�s no tomorrow. Hows about it Tinsy, you�n�me get it
on, on last bang before the big one drops?�
�But this is impossible!� Jonathan shouts. �We must stop this travesty!�
�Yeah? how so?�
�I don�t know, but who�s with me?� Who?�
The Monkey stubs out his cigar and stares at him.  �Count me in, Jonathan.�
Tin shrugs, Now, later, makes little difference to me, but I could use a
change. Although I recognise change is a subjective response to��
�Well I ain�t hanging around this dump waiting to get humped by no rat
buzzed on meth, says the hammer. But before we go, one thing, dude,�
�What, what?�
�Get a brazilian or change outta that diaper. Yer puttin� me off my feed.�
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

> 
> 
> On Dec 24, 2006, at 11:19 AM, Nathaniel Poole wrote:
> 
>> On 12/24/06 10:34 AM, "Joy Hecht" <jhecht@ALUM.MIT.EDU> wrote:
>> 
>>> Yeah, and writing, though I don't quite think of that as artsy.
>> 
>> 
>> WHHHAT? I don't know whether to have an attack of the vapours and
>> faint or
>> fall on the floor laughing maniacally and foaming at the mouth. :)
>> 
>> But I think the best enlightenment I can offer is an assignment.
>> Write a two
>> page story that must contain a monkey, a hammer, a naked fakir in a
>> seedy
>> Winnipeg hotel room, and a talking, philosophical cat food can.
>> 
>> Due by boxing day. Lets see what ya got.
>> 
>> Nathaniel
>> 
>