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The sermon for Sept. 25, 2004 is: the Funny Show

1:28 a.m. I've spent this evening in the company of my nephew and niece. They're 7 and 4 years old respectively, so combined our ages total 108 years altogether. I flailed away at a Playstation 2 miserably for hours; god, I hate Playstations, and all game consoles that have more than one button; but one must make sacrifices for the children. For the children! My niece drove me delightfully insane by insisting on changing into all the clothes I brought her, and then looking at my choice of kiddie fashion critically and stating, "This is crap, Unk." My favourite moment: when I turned all girly and whined how I would never ever again attempt getting her something independently, my niece just looked at me conspiratorially and announced, "I own you, Unk."

We spent the hours before, during and after dinner (a long affaire) watching my niece do something she called The Funny Show, which goes as follows: she stands up and announces, "The Funny Show will start in four minutes," and then leaves the room. She returns after 45-50 seconds, since she has no real conception of what "four minutes" is. (Everything that is not happening now happened "yesterday"; she is constantly asking if I remember events that happened 45-50 seconds earlier.) She stands up and says, "The Funny Show will start in four minutes," and leaves the room again. Repeat ad nauseam, with growing anticipation and hilarity; until finally my niece comes roaring in, and, announcing, "The Funny Show will start in four minutes," commences the Funny Show: which consists of her screaming "GA GA GA," breakdancing on the walls and floors, and throwing things like cellphones, Palm Pilots, and painfully acquired and packed souvenir kiddie clothes all over the room. This stuff kills in my sister's household. I can't count how many times I involuntarily urinated myself.

I've just read this stunning sentence, in Quentin Crisp's The Naked Civil Servant: "Even a monotonously undeviating path of self-examination does not necessarily lead to a mountain of self-knowledge. I stumble toward my grave confused and hurt and hungry..." Right on, sister, I said in my heart.

flip flop

Sept. 25, 2004
the Funny Show
Sept. 23, 2004
agriculture poem
Sept. 23, 2004
my life in the ghost of Bush
Sept. 18, 2004
time-lapsed (part 1)
Sept. 16, 2004
Goodbye present, hello past

Images are taken without permission from the fine and trusting folks at Folk Arts of Poland; please purchase something from them. Background music stolen without permission from Epitonic, Basta Music, and just about everywhere else my unscrupulous hands could grab something. No rights reserved.