In an alternate universe...
On an alternate Earth...
Alternate John is traveling around the state of Idaho while munching on popcorn and listening to (and singing along with) the song "Private Idaho" by The B-52's. He then finds a small diner and orders a baked potato, a side of mashed potatoes, and an order of potato wedges (or french fries), so he can savor Idaho potatoes in Idaho.
Freak Out,
JLH
Sunday, November 22, 2015
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
Three paragraphs from a dreary November night...
I desire to reach deep inside this murky soul and grasp my still heart in a desperate attempt to squeeze life from its drying form. Is it not the heart that beats life into the soul, which in turn is the inspiration for an artist's creation? Without creation, is the artist not reduced to a shadow of the soul that once ignited his or her dreams into reality?
I feel the stagnation of thought, rolling through a barren mind-scape where once flowered a garden of possibilities. Does not the dried earth cry out for liquid sustenance to rejuvenate its lush beauty, to be resplendent with life? When the embryonic breath of rain finally descends, will it strip away the layers of neglect to reveal all that could be?
I must strive to find the passion that seems to have abandoned the entirety of my existence, leaving me with but a handful of muted sensations to carry me through the days. Is it not a pantomime to laugh or cry but only feel a minuscule of what the countenance expresses to outside eyes hungry for your emotional comfort? Without feeling, does the path not lose its purpose, breaking apart from its intended destination into a murky realm of empty stillness?
~17th of November, 2015~
______________________
Freak Out,
JLH
I feel the stagnation of thought, rolling through a barren mind-scape where once flowered a garden of possibilities. Does not the dried earth cry out for liquid sustenance to rejuvenate its lush beauty, to be resplendent with life? When the embryonic breath of rain finally descends, will it strip away the layers of neglect to reveal all that could be?
I must strive to find the passion that seems to have abandoned the entirety of my existence, leaving me with but a handful of muted sensations to carry me through the days. Is it not a pantomime to laugh or cry but only feel a minuscule of what the countenance expresses to outside eyes hungry for your emotional comfort? Without feeling, does the path not lose its purpose, breaking apart from its intended destination into a murky realm of empty stillness?
~17th of November, 2015~
______________________
Freak Out,
JLH
Sunday, November 15, 2015
From where I stand...
...all I can see is a wave of futility crashing upon the shore of failure.
Freak Out,
JLH
Monday, November 9, 2015
"It's MY Podcast" - episode one
A Fictional Transcript of a Fictional Interview
(any resemblance to an actual podcast or podcast host...living, dead, or product of a possibly deranged mind...is purely coincidental and should not be taken seriously)
______________________________ _____________________
~start of transcript~
(not-so-edgy rock music intro)
MICHAEL YARRINGTON: Hey, this is Michael Yarrington coming at you live from my new studio! Welcome to the first episode of It's MY Podcast because it is my podcast. For my first guest, I have with me John L. Harmon, an unknown author from some flyover state. Hello, John!
JOHN L. HARMON: Hello, Michael, it's, um, a pleasure to be your first guest on your very first episode.
MY: To be honest, when I came up with the idea of doing a podcast, I decided that my first guest should be someone whom I have creatively inspired and personally mentored through life. Naturally I thought of you, John.
JLH: (lengthy pause) Gee, Michael, I don't know what to say, but thanks. I guess.
MY: You are welcome, John. Now I suppose you want to talk about your latest oh-so riveting e-book.
JLH: Well, I did travel quite far to be here, so yes I would like to mention Darkening Sturgeons. It is a horror/science fiction tale centered around some strange disappearances in the small town of -
MY: That sounds fascinating, John! Even though an e-book exposing the dark underbelly of the fishing industry isn't really my thing, I'm sure Marketing Sturgeons will find a limited audience.
JLH: No, it's Darkening Sturgeons, and it's not about fish or the fishing industry at all! The story is about a young chief deputy who must -
MY: I'm sure it will rocket up all the bestseller lists in no time, especially in seafaring communities. Now I hear Dark Excursions, your four set e-book serial, is available in a single volume print edition.
JLH: Yes, Dark Excursions has been available since April of this year.
MY: Accomplishing something tangible must have been a new and thrilling experience for you, John.
JLH: (lengthy pause) I have to say, Michael, that holding a copy of my book in my hands was one of the most gratifying -
MY: Yes, I'm sure it was. Other than yours truly, who else has inspired you, John?
JLH: Well, I have a great friend who has been a muse for a few of -
MY: I meant people I've actually heard of.
JLH: Oh. In that case, there are three authors that I look up to. Ira Levin, Jacqueline Susann, and Theodore Dreiser. If I am even a fourth as good as they were, I would be proud.
MY: You obviously didn't understand my question, so moving on. What are you writing now, John? Any new and hopefully interesting projects in the works?
JLH: Well...in October I asked five writers and one librarian for genre suggestions and I placed the suggestions in a -
MY: I'm not one to interrupt a guest, but hold the phone! What happened to your plan for a novelization of my audio soap opera parody masterpiece?
JLH: I started to adapt P.I. but something wasn't working in the transition from script to novel.
MY: You know, John, it was almost a year ago when you pounded on my door, interrupting my drink, er, thinking, and begged and pleaded for my permission to breathe new life into my characters. And I, being a generous soul, gave you the a-o.k. Now I find you have completely wasted my time!
JLH: I'm sorry, Michael. Who knows? Maybe I'll still write it, eventually.
MY: Blah, blah, blah, blah! I don't want to hear your [expletive] promises! Get the [expletive] out of my studio, you [expletive] wannabe author!
JLH: Screw you and your crummy basement!
(footsteps/door slams)
MY: (fuming pause) Is that foul-mouthed ungrateful writer gone, Bernie?
BERNIE CARTWRIGHT: John has left the basement. I mean building.
MY: Good! I try to do someone unworthy a favor and this is the thanks I get!
BC: (brooding pause) Michael, speaking as your manager, I recommend you stop being such a jerk. We were lucky to have John on your first podcast. After all, he was the one who gave you the idea in the first place.
MY: Oh, you are so [expletive] fired, Bernie! Get the [expletive] out of here! I don't need anyone! I can do this podcast on my own! Do you hear me? ON MY OWN!
(30 minutes of silence)
MY: (unintelligible muttering)
~end of transcript~
______________________________ _____________________
If you are remotely curious to what the hell this was all about, please feel free to go click-happy on...
Freak Out,
JLH
Friday, November 6, 2015
Monday, November 2, 2015
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)