Friday, 6 January 2012

Imagozen

I’m going through my backlog of stuff I started, and finishing it. It took a while to fish out all the little scraps and put them all in one spot, but now I’ve got them nailed down, I can tick them off when I get them done. This one is from ages ago, July by the date in the link (holy shit, that can’t be right, can it?). We need an apocalypse, but a different sort from one that’s been done to death.
 
Imagozen

Everything was on the up and up. Things were going swimmingly... the Middle East wasn’t exactly at peace but there was some progress. The stock markets were up, logging of the rain forests was down. Man was on his way to Mars, and most amazing of all, Cleveland is in with a chance to win the World Series. See? Not too shabby. A shame that was all about to change...

For this is not the only place where life is to be found. Yeah yeah, I know what you’re thinking - those fine fella’s in the lab-coats haven’t found proof of what I’m saying, so why take me at my word? Just listen patiently, and when this story’s told think back and see if I’m right. I bet this is the last great tall tale ever told. That’s unfortunate on two counts... it’s not that great, and it’s the truth, honest injun.

Like I said, the Earth ain’t the only place where thought goes on, and humans are not even the top of the heap. Its not like they thought back in B-grade movies, they’re not coming here to eat us or mine our atmosphere. Nor is it going to be a case of Kirk making sweet love to a range of alien women each week. They won’t be bringing a message of universal peace love and happiness and all that malarkey. Apart from a few wild stories like mine that most likely won’t be believed (though they’re completely legit my friend) that’s about all the “evidence” there will ever be.

Those old black and white flicks were nudging towards the right sorta idea. Technically what those tentacled sumbitches are up to doesn’t hurt humans, its more a quality of life thing, see? There’s only so much imagozen sloshing around the galaxy - it’s a finite resource. And the bug eyed monsters don’t really feel like sharing. Scratching your head wondering what’s imagozen? I’ll tells ya: it’s that spark of inspiration and creativity that some people call a muse, or the bolt outta the blue. It’s the bit that made Edison so sweaty, Curie so curious, what gave Picasso his gumption and Henry Ford his moxie. James Joyce had the stuff dripping outa his ears if he turned his head too sharply. Elvis probably died of an overdose of it, the poor bloke.

A solid definition imagozen is a wee bit tricky... it’s hard to pin down kinda like how light is a wave and a particle - or how a cat is dead yet alive. Element? Nah. Force? Not really. Energy? Eh... kind of. Something spiritual or spooky... nooooo, not quite. But you get the idea of what I’m groping for, right? If not just nod your damn head so I can continue for the sake of the rest of the peanut gallery, attention spans these days are getting shorter.

Where was I? That’s right, cutting off the imagozen supply to Earth. It’s not fatal, but you can see its effects everywhere. Don’t believe me? You must not have cable TV my fine friend. I hear they now have a show called The Skunk Whisperer. Look at what the latest “innovation” was with the iPhone - releasing it in white. What a breakthrough! Didja ever hear tell of that infinite number of monkeys banging away on typewriters, trying to do Shakespeare? Seems they’ve run out of steam, and won’t ever get back up to speed. I tell ya, them aliens have won. I should know, as now the job of me and my colleagues is done, we can finally get off this ball of rock you lunk-heads call home. Not that it wasn’t fun at time, but I miss the good life that imagozen provides. Enjoy your reality T.V. and cookie-cutter boy bands.

1 comment:

  1. Another piece of great writing - these are so fun to read. This part is just brilliant:

    "It’s the bit that made Edison so sweaty, Curie so curious, what gave Picasso his gumption and Henry Ford his moxie. James Joyce had the stuff dripping outa his ears if he turned his head too sharply. Elvis probably died of an overdose of it, the poor bloke."

    I chuckled when I read that and then smiled in admiration. When I read parts like that, I reread them just to fully appreciate them - well done!

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