Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Cue for the Visions:
The Disembarkening

For Young Merbos, what began as a recruitment phone call received whilst enjoying coffee at the Gristle turned into a decade-long voyage aboard the vessel Reverend Resbo. A voyage that began on smooth seas, but unraveled over the years with mutinies, derelictions, and a succession of captains from the incompetent to the Queeg-like.
  Until one day, the opportunity to jump ship afforded itself to Merbos. And jumped he did at this chance.
  And so, a silent goodbye to his quarters. A silent nod farewell to the remaining ghost crew. A steady final stride down the passageway. A cascade of memories: the success and failures... the high adventures and the doldrums...

  He opened the hatch and took a step out the gangway.

  ...The things learned over a 10-stratum span...
  Another step.
  ...A simple sense of purpose for helping keep a ship afloat...
  Each descending step...
  ...Survival. Accomplishment. Even pride...

  A commencement of sorts...

Sunday, September 13, 2015

Invasion de la Batterie CCXXIII

Long before Seaside Pungeonary was established at Higby Beach, the pre-existing building was a former anti-U-boat bunker from the days of war. Whilst today it sits comfortably snug in the safe replenished sands, back in the Third Stratum it sat with most of its foundation in the surf due to beach erosion. It was then that young Scarlatti and Malinconico decided to breach the off-limits structure.
  Somehow they managed to scale the pilings and rubble to the west portal, which stood a precarious ten metres over jagged concrete slabs that lay in the crashing tide. Inside — in darkness with no power, of course — they traversed the main east-west corridor, passing former powder rooms and shell rooms, guided by the pinpoint of light at the far eastern end of the shadowy hall.
  Though the brief journey was visually pitch black, the sense of history was indeed palpable.

Thursday, September 03, 2015

Blind to the Cycles of Kitsch

Yesteryear’s creators of mass media communiqu├ęs were never under the delusion that their erstwhile persuasive efforts amounted to high art in any sense (whilst still acknowledging the occasional well-crafted semiotic meme that transcends the generations).

Over the years, it became obvious to anyone with a sense of perspective that the exhortations of yesterday becomes kitsch through the lens of the current day. But with the combination of the dumbening of modern culture and a withering sense of curiosity, latter-day avant-tards lack the foresight to see that even their “cutting edge” posturing has even less of a shelf life than decades-old homey appeals to selling basic widgets.