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RUNNING NUMBERS THROUGH A FUNNEL

(03/06/2002 - )





A WebCam stares me in the face. It’s not activated, yet it reminds me of my generation’s general embrace of Big Brother. We are either incomprehensibly insecure, or egotistic to the point of vulgarity.

There seems to be a vast empty space in between. In fact, the few who bask in this oasis are either very stupid, near dead, or extremely lucky. Most are just plain stupid.

The insecure wish for immortality, while the egotistic wish to re-live their lives, to start again, to recapture their self-appointed importance and greatness.

How are we supposed to drink from the oasis if our intelligence, or lack thereof, stops us from doing so?



Darcy enters through the side door, notably flustered from climbing the two sets of stairs, and executes a quick, nervous visual scan of the bar. He spots me and proceeds to greet me, his fears now gone. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out in a flash and places a coin on the side of the pool table. His eyes are delirious. They shift and stutter. His hands shake and his voice trembles softly as he speaks. “G’day Rob! Wanna game or what?”

I smile reluctantly as I reciprocate his dying wishes. The old perverted loner…

He tells me how his sister pleases him orally by removing her dentures when performing fellatio. He takes us out for dinner at the Chinese restaurant next to the train station and once there offers to pay my girlfriend for sex. He willingly shoves any chemical into his body as long as you tell him it’ll get him fucked off his head. We break his dream bubble and he drifts back to the sewers he emerged from. Darcy. I relieved him of $120 at the pool table. He never got to fuck my girlfriend.



Why make short stories long? Oh yeah, forgot… general population is slow and they need to have their stories unravelled at a comprehensible pace. There’s a paradox in there somewhere… everybody approves of cutting a long story short, yet yearn for a long story, describing basic human emotions and how they’re derived, through endless adjectives and metaphors, in what could potentially have been a very brief story. Too much is not enough. Show them where they belong! Oh, how I identify!



Every generation improves on its inefficiency, paranoia and self-destruction.



A single grain of sand falls untouched through the thin spout of a funnel. Sometimes you have to question the functionality of your infrastructure.