grassmonk.net

So the other night I’m dreaming again, right? Right. I’m in the middle of some city, in an old abandoned building that just happens to be guarded by elite guards and stuff. Somehow, I make my escape, and as I’m running out the door of the building, I see a shriveled-up CGI Hulk laying outside one of the cells. I know at this point that something weird is going to happen.

So I get out of the building and start running, only to round a corner and spot two guards running at me. What do I do? Dreaming, and thus somewhat lacking in the common sense department, I run back into the building, thinking, “Aha! They’ll never expect me to run back into the building. I’m a genius!”

I’m hiding back inside my cell when the building starts to shake. I have half a second to think, “What the…?” when the wall explodes. The shriveled-up Hulk is no longer shriveled, and is now actively throwing boulders at the building, I guess in some sort of rabid attempt to destory things, like Hulk seems to enjoy doing.

Somehow, I think I’m safe for the time being, but just to make sure, I crawl under the cot occupying my cell. Another few boulders crash through the wall, none of which strike me, and so I just think I can wait it out.

But no. My Spidey Sense chose that moment to kick in.

The camera pans out and time slows way down, just like when some cool martial arts thing is about to happen in the Matrix. I see the Hulk’s face contort with rage as he flings yet another boulder at the building. It hits the wall with excrutiating slowness and explodes, shards spraying everywhere in an attempt to eradicate every form of life in the building, including me.

That’s when I see myself, and I turn out to be none other than Mario himself, jumping and spinning through the air, dodging the rock shards with the greatest of ease.

As the rubble begins to subside, time kicks back into full speed and I regain my first person point of view. I run from the building, shaking my fist at the Hulk (but secretly delighted at my amazing ability not to get hit by sharp, flying objects), and I notice an elite guard has somehow survived the attack on his homestead. He spots me and begins to give chase. I duck around the corner into a near by restaurant, where I shed Luigi’s jacket–yep, I’d been Spidey Mario disguised as Luigi all along–in an attempt to foil my pursuer, like Harrison Ford did in The Fugitive. (He wasn’t wearing Luigi’s jacket, but it was St. Patrick’s Day, which are both green.)

Unfortunately, the elite guard wasn’t fooled, because the restaurant owner flagged him down and tattled on me. On the lam once again, I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and speed dial my trusty friend Ben for a ride out of this place. Turns out trusty ol’ Ben is at home with the kids and can’t be bothered to come rescue me. So, out of escape options, I promptly woke up, and groggily wondered what was the matter with me (secretly delighted to have such cool dreams, of course).

Sometimes I wonder if all of my creativity, or at least my talent to put it to good use, ran out in 1998 or thereabouts. Reading over some of the poems I’ve written recently (by which I mean that I recently read them, not that I recently wrote them), and I can’t help but feel that with rare exception the best stuff was written more than five freakin’ years ago. I’ve barely touched Grass Monkey stories for almost three years.

I can’t help but wonder what bloody happened to me.

I noticed that, also with rare exception, my “best” poetry seems to have some sort of recurring theme of self-inflicted sadness or depression, or attempted redemption from such (man, do I love meridian of day and Something Broken). Funnily enough, some of the most unbelievably stupid junk I’ve ever written falls under this same heading (see, for example, Inner Betrayal or A Lesson To Be Learned). Anyway, a few nights ago I was feeling distressed about something or other and so I sat down to try to put my thoughts into words. Guess what came out? This crap:

forgive
forget
their meanings are shrouded in shadow
how am I ever supposed to find release

no escape from nightmares save in slumber
only find respite in darkness and solitude
all the tears robbed from my heart
stolen in a sporadically sub-par enigmatic battle
alone
I weep because I cannot weep

sieve
fisherman’s net
they catch all the lumps of emptiness
all that slips through my weaving is peace

outside disfigured from inside
the darkness claws and gasps for a breath of air
struggle affords me no victory
I surrendered freely too long ago
disowned
a disparate legacy lies at my feet

Seriously, a “sub-par enigmatic battle”? I don’t even know what the blazes that’s supposed to mean. Crivens, I don’t even know why I just typed “what the blazes.”

So there’s some ranting for the .42 readers of the grassmonk blog. Enjoy.

Well, I caught a glaring factual error in the book, anyway.

Robert Langdon recalls a past lecture in which one of his students brought a copy of The Lion King DVD to class. The publication date of The Da Vinci Code is April 2003. The Lion King didn’t hit DVD until October 2003.

Ha ha. In your face, Dan Brown.

Unless the story takes place in the not-too-distant future, in which case I think Wolverine should have shown up and clawed something.

Or unless it was a DVD burned from an older VHS or Laser Disc copy, in which case I think Wolverine should have shown up and clawed something, and Spider-Man should have shown up and cracked wise, and a random lightsaber battle should have occurred, in which Simba should have deftly disemboweled Michael Eisner, just on general principle.

Oh, and while we’re at it, I’d like copies of The Truman Show and Super Mario Bros. in anamorphic widescreen, please.

Here’s a list of Paul Simon songs I am always in the mood for:

Ace In The Hole
All Around The World Or The Myth Of Fingerprints
Allergies
America
April Come She Will
Bleecker Street
Born At The Right Time
The Boxer
Bridge Over Troubled Water (1974 Live Rhymin’ version)
A Church Is Burning
The Coast
The Cool, Cool River
Crazy Love, Vol. II
Darling Lorraine
Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes
Father And Daughter
The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin’ Groovy)
Flowers Never Bend With The Rainfall
Gone At Last
Gumboots
A Hazy Shade Of Winter
Hearts And Bones
He Was My Brother
Homeward Bound
Hurricane Eye
I Am A Rock
I Do It For Your Love
Kathy’s Song
Kodachrome
The Late Great Johnny Ace
Look At That
Me And Julio Down By The Schoolyard
Mrs. Robinson
My Little Town
The Obvious Child
Old
Old Friends/Bookends
The Only Living Boy In New York
Peace Like A River
Pigs, Sheep And Wolves
A Poem On The Underground Wall
Proof
Quiet
The Rhythm Of The Saints
St. Judy’s Comet
Senorita With A Necklace Of Tears
Slip Slidin’ Away
Song For The Asking
Spirit Voices
Stranded In A Limousine
That’s Where I Belong
Thelma
Think Too Much (a)
Think Too Much (b)
Trailways Bus
Train In The Distance
Under African Skies
When Numbers Get Serious
You Can Call Me Al
You’re Kind

Also of note is the great Simon & Garfunkel cover of Blues Run The Game.

I’m not sure why I felt the sudden need to create this list, but there it is.

Ah, the beauty that is Spider-Man 2. The genius. The overwhelming wonder. Better than the first movie in every way, but that’s not my point.

Last night, or the night before–well, some night recently I had just gone to bed after reading some good ol’ Spider-Man comics. I have become addicted to All Things Spidey (ATS), and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I almost bought some Spidey shoes last night, and they were eight sizes too small. Luckily, I had someone there to beat me over the head with a whiffle bat just in case any such impulses seized me, because my size limit on too-small shoes is five.

My ATS addiction notwithstanding, I do have a small complaint about Spidey comics, but that’s a story for another time and place.

Maybe not another place–probably this place–but whatever.

Anyway, I was lying there, trying to go to sleep, letting my thoughts wander, and they wandered (surprise!) to Spider-Man. I was recalling the scene in the first Spider-Man movie where Peter is sitting in the hospital room chatting with Aunt May about the first time he met Mary Jane. Aunt May says to Peter, “You said, ‘Aunt May, is that an angel?'” and Neo says, “Gee, did I say that?”

Seriously, Neo appeared out of nowhere and took Spidey’s place, and I haven’t watched The Matrix for two months.

I wondered where Spidey had gotten to, and so I plunged through the strange and absurd recesses of my mind until I found him right where I thought he’d be–fighting Agent Smith, and sporting a long, black trenchcoat, no less.

The scene was a combination of the final fight scene between Spidey and the Green Goblin in Spider-Man and the final fight scene between Neo and Smith in The Matrix Revolutions. Smith had just knocked Spidey back into a wall for the 300th time and was laughing maniacally. Spidey lay quietly for a moment, then got up, flexed in that weird Matrix way that makes the space around someone bulge for a bit, and then faced Smith, outstretched his hand, and made the Come Get Some More sign. Smith frowned, and then got some webbing in the eye.

I didn’t get a chance to see how the scene ended, because at that point I fell asleep. I really think there needs to be some sort of crossover comic happening soon, so I can see what happened.