539. A Most Fundamental Biologically Incorrect Cartoon::: "Frantic Squirrel Helps Stuck Bird Get Out of Cage"

Caption I included on Picasaweb: It's just a few days away from my first ever Comic-con, and I had to switch my mental processes from music to cartoons. I asked myself what are the fundamental images I need to draw such that a Comic-Con alternative adult comic audience will better understand my Biologically Incorrect cartoons? Ever since I went through Self-Standardization (Victoria's SI units for cartooning consist of fine-point black sharpies, a simple black-white-gray color scheme, and white xerox paper), I realized that I needed to re-draw certain images that were unforunately constructed in pencil or other form of pen. Not only do publishers want originality and audience comprehension, but they also want consistency and standardization from the author. So, I'm going back to my fundamental images that I live by my absurd life, and re-drawing them to near-"human perfection." One image I keep going back to is "Frantic Squirrel Helps Stuck Bird Get Out of Cage." More on the Biologically Incorrect Blog 539!

I decided that if I were my own country and had a designated flag, the little green square with ths squirrel and the bird in a cage would be on the flag. It summarizes my existentially absurd pursuits of life of trying to simultaneously occupy two spaces: being stuck in the box, and always trying to escape and jump outside of the box, always trying to avoid the belljar of repetition and slipping into an hourglass of novelty and growth. This "Squirrel and Bird in a Cage" image has received much attention from my past blogs... Blog 253 (the origins and history of the bird-in-a-cage idea, Dr. Miriam Polne-Fuller, Dr. James Reichman, LAP Records, Robyn T., QR Cover, Advisor Oran), Blog 317 (images I gave to my UCSB advisor as a present), Blog 329 (Biologically Incorrect and Ecology of Scale Images derived from the Elephant-Oak-Tree Story), and Blog 489 (elaborated and darkened images of the Bird in the Cage for the Biologically Incorrect PR page... dead end page!). Not only that, I decided to experiment with a Zazzle Page (http://www.zazzle.com/stokastika) and Deviant Art Page (http://stokastika.deviantart.com) using these image-logos as the first two items of display on each page.... Heck, it's a start! Since I have discussed this bird-in-a-cage so much before, it is questionable to expand this discourse! As others would say, "Get Over It!"

Such is finding passion in the Absurd life of the Absurdist Existential Environmentalist. So I was trying to be an environmentalist and then I realized how impractically absurd it is to be an "environmentalist" and so now I am a Human-Environmentalist Existential Absurdist, or something like that. I try to send out meaningful messages, but then I come to realize how meaningful messages have become overall impractical to materialized... and so I fail... because I'm always a bird stuck in a cage, and I'm always that squirrel trying to get the poor bird out of the cage. And so it goes. And so on (Slaughterhouse 5). The sad thing is that I bet corporations will love me because I try to send some kind of quasi-preachy environmental message and then I self acknowledge my failure to practice what I preach, and that it's all modestly impossible anyway... so there you go... my absurd values align very well with corporate environmentalism... at least on the surface... ha ha! I hope no one reads this blog, down this far....

It's funny, I even remember back in the fall of 2006 that I imagined that my first music CD cover would have the squirrel and the bird in a cage, and that it would be neon-green so that it would stick out of the pile of dull-colored CD jewel cases that are more so covered with poofy blong hair and elaborate make-up rather than some existential structure or image that could possibly have meaning to the core of existence (like Jack Johnson's cover "To the Sea" or something like that. And now? FINALLY! I did what I sought out to do, back in 2006. Yippee! Slowly, very slowly, things are off the to-do list... ideas get off the to-do list to some final-like form. I'm glad Comic-Con is coming because it certainly motivates me to reconsider my roots and fundamentals of how to advertise and represent my cartoons!

I have been living a good summer. Chris Lods was right. I argued with him over a burrito at Freebirds last school year that everything we do today is built upon history, but Chris made a point that we have no obligation to history and that every day is a new day for new opportunities and to break the habits and burdens of history. Janelle Monae tells me to be a thrival, break all bad habits of history, whether family history or collective history. Even in this modality, the present is built upon the past... but why should the past ever be a heavy weight? I'm embracing this modality this summer... and let whatever positive trickles of history blossom in my mind to its novel and fullest creative potential... Trickle... then EXPLODE! Thanks Chris. I guess I'm kind of being Zen Buddhist right now, eh?

503. Poem / Song "Absurdity" Just Invented in the Car!

Absurdity

Will you play this game with me? (aye-aye-aye-aya)
I'm trying to save humanity. (aye-aye-aye-aya)
I've given up: it's-ah mockery! (aye-aye-aye-aya)
There's nothing much out worth saving, (aye-aye-aye-aya)
Except my own sanity. (aye-aye-aye-aya)
Sparing my own sanity. (aye-aye-aye-aya)
What a noble, sacred deed. (aye-aye-aye-aya)
Quite a noble, sacred deed. (aye-aye-aye-aya)

Well, why don't we go on watching-- (aye-aye-aye-aya)
This global tragic movie (aye-aye-aye-aya)
I think it's called "Absurdity." (aye-aye-aye-aya)
I guess you can, count on me (aye-aye-aye-aya)
On showing up for this viewing. (aye-aye-aye-aya)
At least we won't be lone-ly (aye-aye-aye-aya)
Watching this show unfolding, (aye-aye-aye-aya)
You-oh-you and me. (aye-aye-aye-aya)
You-oh you and me. (aye-aye-aye-aya)
You-oh you and me. (aye-aye-aye-aya)
You-oh you and me. (aye-aye-aye-aya)

I have a hunch that I might be expanding this song. There's lots of potential, and the theme is very timely: how I and several other people have come to this naive, ephemeral burden of saving the world when they get to college, and then one day they wake up, grow up and start first pursuing the task of saving themselves before they get into grander, convoluted thought processes.

This song is fresh out of my head, like fresh eggs right out of the chicken. I went to the grocery store and on the way back, the song poured out *bam* like that! No struggle! Now I have to get over the complex of sharing my raw voice and melody in some attached mp3 here. I first have to learn logic studio pro. Big hurdle to jump over!

101. Vic's Quirky Response to the "White Elephant Christmas Game" / Christmas 2008 / Christmas 2009

This Christmas (a la Mama)... Next Halloween.... Vic the Confused Deranged Transgender Granny Pirate Coffee Addict! In Color!
This Christmas (a la Mama)... Next Halloween.... Vic the Confused Deranged Transgender Granny Pirate Coffee Addict! In Black and White!

When the family came together in Christmas of 2007, Jennifer had an idea to play a guessing game so that we could get to know each other better. We had to answer four questions, and slowly but surely, people had to guess who was the person who answered the questions. I think it came out that (1) I gave people the most bizarre presents, and (2) I had the most bizarre responses. So I'll share my self-absurdity.

(1). Favorite holiday carol/song: WWJB, What Would Jesus Buy? (It's a documentary, not sure if it's a song. It should be. Mama thought I made that up, and she demanded that I sing it on the spot, which I didn't)

(2). Favorite holiday tradition: Sleeping. (Most people answered: spending time with family and eating good food. Jery Lyn guessed me right away)

(3). Favorite food: Homemade pie and homemade strawberry ice scream. (This was my boring response, but nevertheless true. Jim and Melanie and Alicia spoil us with homemade ice scream and pie)

(4). Strangest holiday present ever received: Toilet paper. (Mama saw the question and she yelped at me: "Ohhh! I know what YOU'RE going to write! Oh no!" And I exclaimed, "I'm going to have to bring this issue out in the open from under the table!" We both laughed until our faces went red)

I made the top list for giving people the strangest presents. I gave Mama a sweeper and dust pan. She got mad and didn't want it. She wanted me to return it, but Jenny decided to take it to Northridge. Whew. It was 99 cents anyway. She asked me, "What were you thinking? Are you going to give me a trash can like Baba too?" I think this family is a little bit too practical for its own good.

Jennifer put me on the top for weirdest present. I believe I gave her frog-shaped soap. That was a long time ago. Oh well. Bub said "none" for favorite holiday song. That almost beats "What Would Jesus Buy." Bub's weirdest present was a "plastic roll," but unfortunately I did not give it to him. If you do not know, my father lives off of bread. It's his addiction. Better than cigarettes and pot, I guess. The strangest present my grandfather Ray ever received was a Venus Fly Trap, and that, of course, was from me--just this Christmas. This is a special honor for me, simply because Ray is 94 or 95 years old! Surely he must have received a stranger present than a Venus Fly Trap! Jenny's favorite holiday tradition is "Saying Thanks at Thanksgiving," a bit redundant, but I also topped her list of weirdest presents--just this year--"oozing animal-shaped sticky window figurines." Pretty elaborate and scientific! One was an orange deformed frog. One was a rat. And another was a starfish.

I think the "recent memory effect" has taken effect in people's decisions for weirdest presents, and I guess it's all toward my favor in the recent emergence of my weirdness (it was more suppressed before). It is the same effect that occurs when people decide who should receive an academy award. I think we should account for this phenomenon, and make the decision-making process more objective.

I think we were all sad that Colleen didn't come. She had been cut off from the family since moving out from Uncle Dwight. She called once when the fires were occurring near Corona. I just hope she's okay.

Jennifer must have known who was who just based on the hand-writing of the people. Jennifer was announcing the answers to everyone... all for us to go wild guessing.

What can I say? I am so thankful for all my family for keeping me calibrated and in check. And I am thankful they welcome the development of my humor. Being comical is a necessity, otherwise life gets to be pretty boring if you rely on others for humor. I apply the "expect the worst, and hope for the best" tactic when it comes to comedy. Sometimes other people really crack me up!

Christmas 2009
All right, all right, now it's December of 2009... about a year since last Christmas.... What have I been doing differently? Well, before I did the Christmas Eve present splurge... I was on this meditative train of thought of adding everyone I could think of on Facebook. I promised myself last September to finally start using Facebook and adding all my past friends and acquaintances, and acknowledge their existence and influence in my life, whether subtley or profoundly.... I got to the point in which I finished writing a blog on the NASA Sherettes Conference, and I was about to add Dr. Caron to Facebook when I realized it was PAST NOON, and that it was CHRISTMAS EVE and that I better just get my act together. I had been meditating on what to purchase people this year. The last couple of years have ventured into the domain of "absurd silliness" and "Saturday Night Live Material." My strategy was "quantity" over "quality," especially since I was strolling through the isles of the 99 cents store. I have established the familial claim to fame for purchasing my grandfather of 96 years the most memorable present of a "venus fly trap" and in certain ways, I'm trying to maintain my new status of Holiday Sharing. But this year, I decided to resort to "thoughtfulness" and "quality over quantity." I meditated long and hard on what to purchase for each close family member: (1) my father: a very, very nice fancy +20 oz Starbucks metallic coffee mug, so that he will NEVER have to use a paper cup at Starbucks ever again (though I'm still guilty) (2) my mother: Trader Joes Baklava (she requested it), and I was thinking of getting her a cook book, but I abandoned any cookbook ideas all together; also a $5 gift certificate to the Dollar Tree Store (3) Jen Jen, my sister: an autographed book by Dr. Barbara Kingsolver "The Poisonwood Bible" (a couple of years ago Jenny got me a Daftpunk Homework CD for Christmas, and it was one of the coolest presents I had received the last ten years, so I wanted to reciprocate in the same way). I also made a few Dollar Tree Store Nick Nack presents, but overall I calmed down my own Saturday Night Live Prankster Gift Habits (though I guess American Consumerist Lifestyle is overall insane; it doesn't really even matter). I wanted to also buy everyone in the family some cloth-based, portable grocery store baggies from Whole Foods, but I never made it to the store because I anticipated horrible traffic on Christmas Eve. On the evening before Christmas, I felt overall tired and was not in the mood of purchasing and wrapping, so my sister Jenny helped me out, took me out to the Dollar Tree Store in her new Green Toyota Limo (she's getting higher up in the ranks than I am; she's about to have a nice job in a few months... my parents only have to worry about me :-), and she let me borrow her wrapping paper for wrapping. I was still lazy and didn't label any of the presents. It was a little bit of guess work in terms of whether people received the right presents. My mother noticed how tired I was and said, "Awww, you don't have to wrap the presents!" And I exclaimed, "No! I have to! Last year I wrapped everything in grocery store plastic bags and Jenny was pissed off!" So... I have learned and adjusted my behavior.... (Oh ya, I did get my father a funny present, a Luna Bar, or an energy bar for women... ha ha... for my daddy's feminine side... I didn't even realize it was a bar for women, who would know the difference?)

So, that was my game plan. It was Christmas Eve, 9pm, and everything was all set for the next day. I wanted to go out and work at a coffeeshop but everything was closed. I was cold and just slept on the living room floor wrapped in blankets by the tree. I didn't hear Santa Claus that night, just my dad waking up 3am in the morning to go to the pot. Right before I went to sleep, I talked with my father. I was trying to figure out the HISTORY of this ASBURD GIFT EXCHANGE, especially between ME and MY MOTHER. Well, last year was getting really crazy. And then I purchased a bowl that was shaped as a half-broken chicken egg shell with two chicken feet sticking out. My mother frowned, my father laughed, and my mom asked if my dad could donate this piece of existentialist Goodwill art to his work.... I kept tracing back and back and back... and then I realized that the Whacko Funky Gift Exchange Operation started back in November of 2003, when I was at UCLA, frazzled as can be as a first-year graduate student, and for some reason, our apartment was out of toilet paper for a week and I was so crunched with time I forgot to purchase toilet paper at the grocery store. Oopsy. My mother emphasized this random drama of "toilet paper absence" by wrapping up a packet of four-ply toilet paper and giving it to me for Christmas. I whined when I opened it up, "Ma-maaaa!!!" And SHE calls me the Greek "skatoula" [little shxt!] huh! So much for that... the terms of endearment shoot right back at her!

After that Christmas present, my mother and I subliminally formulated a Christmas/Birthday present FaceOff Competition of who could get the most absurd, silly, and most useless present during whatever holiday occassion. But it's December 2009 and I was about ready to taper off in my efforts... except for my mother... she decided to vamp up her efforts.

On the morning of December 25, 2009, my mother tossed me a soft-feeling present. I opened it up, only to find a green kitchen pirate hat with white pokadots. My mom busted laughing. My father and sister started to cringe. The next present: a white-yarn oversized painter's beanie hat. My mom laughed again. I took off the pokadot hat in order to place the white painter's hat underneath, and the pokadot hat was on the top. And then an undersized light brown and blue vest. Wow, this was getting good. My mother was having way too much fun. Then my sister opened a couple of white elephant presents: a neon pink hippi purse, which she grimaced and I exclaimed, "I want it! I want it!" which she threw across the room to me. And to top it off, a weird cloth light brown belt with strange crochet patterns on it. I forgot the colors. Reminded me of Arizonian and New Mexico designs. My sister frowned. My mom moped, "Well, I thought you needed a belt." Jenny whined again, "Mama! I'm not going to wear it!" And of course I perked up, "I want it! I want it!" And hence, my wardrobe for next Halloween was completed (maybe some pants or shorts to top it off). Jenny stared at me and playfully, "Victoria! Take it off! Take it all off! You look like a confused transgender granny pirate!" Wow! My new identity! Well, the identity became more elaborate when Jenny gave me a $10 Starbucks gift certificate. My official title for Next Halloween is "Confused Deranged Transgender Granny Pirate Coffee Addict!" CDTGPCA. At one point my sister retrieved a present for my father from her car, and my dad was like, "I hope it's a screen... so I can stop looking at Victoria!" Aya!

Though I wasn't all that competitive in the annual Silly Useless Gift Exchange Game... I am so happy my mother still played... and she came back stronger than ever! A fisherman said, it's all about making memories, in the end, that's all you have left. Memories. And that indeed was what my mother did. Sometimes I feel like my family has humorous enough moments to be on Saturday Night Live. Christmas Time the last five years have made it in my mind....

My mother also had a "flashlight fetish." She gave everyone a bunch of 99-cent weirdly shaped lights.... I found out that it was because of some family struggles in Greece with a cousin of mine who is literally going insane and being threatening in a way that is criminal... which is obviously affecting the whole family. My mom perceives "lights" as some form of "clairvoyance" in a time of familial turbulence... so she dumped all these lights on us, which is fine, because I have a fetish for plasma and lava lamps... so she's adding to my collection. I stopped paying full price for lava lamps. They end up being popular, cheap yard sale items. The first thing that goes when everyone moves....

Noon. Marquis arrives. That was fun. Drive in Green Limo to Corona. Say hi to everyone. Chuck. Jean. Jennifer. Colleen (back from Harvard!). Uncle Dwight ($10 gift certificate TJs!). Jeri Lyn. Steve. Mumsy. Bubsy. Jen Jen. Marquis. Me. Great Catching Up! White Elephant Toss Game was a bit of a dud. No one was interested in trading or stealing this year. I think everyone has gotten too good at this game. Jennifer gave me to-do-list tattoos because I write all over my hands. Ha ha. Received a tool kit and a cool "Mudd" purse with a huge number of pockets. Jeri Lyn didn't want! Wa?! Oh well. Lots of great food. Turkey. Potatoes. Mashed potatoes. Beans. Veggie chips. Guacamole and Tortilla Chips. Cookies. Pumpkin bread. Caramel pop corn. A suite of other evil little goodies that will compell me to jogging a bazillion miles to who knows where. Good thing I didn't eat anything the night before! Came back after a ride to Riverside. Played Buzz game. The host was abnoxious. I apparently am an idiot and don't know anything useful, like the names of musicians and famous athletes. I played a WWII Wii game and crashed an airplane in the ocean. Cool! Fell asleep with the doggies. I was so happy to see Jeri Lyn and Steve and Katie from up North! Steve showed me how to use Garageband.... He's motivating me to get on to purchasing Logic Pro or Logic Lite... get over the hump.... and become musically competent! Garageband has some built in tools like PITCH CORRECTION! ARPEGGIATOR! Autotunes equivalent! That is GOOD TO KNOW!!!

Another memorable Christmas goes by! I love our new family gig. Merging Christmas with Ray Minnich's side of the family and Dwight Minnich's side of the family. The hub of the free-thinking scientists and artists. I wish we started doing this a lot earlier, but now... I'm glad we're doing it now! Better now than never!

423. Beginning of a Lengthy Poem/ Song: "The Tragedy of Nature Inside a Box" (Vision for a Cyclical Music Video)

Caption for Slide Show: Tragedy of Nature Inside the Box, Absurd Nature
I have decided to start an image collection of the "Absurd Nature" or nature that is unexpected, particularly with the themes of (1) manufacturing nature, as in natural history museums (2) conservation as consumption, selling nature for a human career or profession and (3) flash-freezing and manicuring nature, or humans attempting to control nature or impose a vision of what nature is trying to be, for example, "What kind of Garden of Eden do you want for the Santa Cruz island?" or "What kind of Japanese Garden do you want for the ocean?" or even the National Park System itself. All images will feed toward the pre-meditated music video entired "The Tragedy of Nature Inside a Box."

The Tragedy of Nature Inside a Box (Absurdity)

The tragedy of nature inside a box. [absurdity]
I need infinite space, an unconstrained plot [other wording for this!]
An escape route was a change of scenery,
But my dreams flew with my cash
And nature's sold back to me.
And a box within a box--
Just--simply ain't free.

THE PRINCIPLE OF THE TRAGEDY OF NATURE INSIDE A BOX:
IN ORDER TO CONSERVE OR PRESERVE (AND CONTINUE TO RESEARCH) A CERTAIN SYSTEM (WHETHER "NATURAL" OR "HISTORICAL"), YOU HAVE TO (1) PUT OTHER PEOPLE IN BOXES (LAW) SO THAT THEY DON'T MESS WITH THE SYSTEM (2) MASS PRODUCE REPRESENTATIONS OF THE SYSTEM (A) INFORMATIONALLY (B) PHYSICALLY-PLASTIC FIGURINES... JUST TO RAISE AWARENESS AND MAINTAIN A SALARY TO CONSERVE AND PROTECT THE THING ITSELF; IT'S ABSURD! IN THE END, EVERYTHING THAT YOU WOULD LIKE TO THINK IS INFINITE IN NATURE IS ULTIMATELY PLACED AND CONFINED IN A BOX (in a large-scale society)

I had a very encompassing, entrenching sequence of images pass through my head during the second day of the COMPASS science communications workshop. Particularly when marine biologist / science communicator Elizabeth Neeley gave us a tour of her very-cool pet pea project on saving deep-sea corals "Too Precious to Wear" (http://www.tooprecioustowear.org/), and how this campaign penetrated into the elitist fashion industry of New York. My brain couldn't stop cranking on working on this song... and this plot line for a music video.... It started coming full circle... and in a full, cross-generational cycle!

MUSIC VIDEO SKETCH FOR "THE TRAGEDY OF NATURE INSIDE A BOX:"
Basically, the film / music video sequence started with a redwood tree or a pristine plot of ocean (and I'll just assume for now it's the redwood tree, because I have thought about the redwood tree frame of reference for quite a while).
**Camera focuses on a pristine redwood tree, zooming out, then a scientist comes into the picture
**the scientist and the artist takes multi-dimensional samples, and creates multi-dimensional artistic representations of the tree [unfinished: classification of environmental scientists map, all types of data is collected on a flipping salt marsh]
**zooming out, the scientist leaves these ropes that protect the tree (she/he has a badge that allows her/him to cross the rope boundary), then the scientists steps to the car and it turns out the tree is not only surrounded by ropes/fences, but it is completely surrounded by encroached parking lot
[[**if I were working with the ocean situation, it would be 3 square miles surrounded by an arbitrary fence (fish in a box, fishermen in a box, scientists can go in and monitor, underwater Yosemite, how come it costs so much money to leave a plot of land alone), and the fishermen were placed in a box, placed in chains, that law places chains, ropes around these supposedly infinite, unbounded regions, same with the Sarengetti, it's tragic]]
[[**and just with the ballona wetlands, the tree is surrounded by lots of NGO noises, hoo-haas, save the redwood tree from logging, save the fishes, save the birds, etcetera, picket signs all around the flipping redwood tree, and just like La Bufadora, a parade of local mom and pop shops making and selling hand made trinkets of redwood trees on a one-mile parade to the dxmn redwood tree]] (localized representation)
**the scientist goes back to the university and (1) publishes a paper (2) surrounded by media sharks and gets interviewed 5000 times (3) gets publicized by several media sources (4) the scientist has sketch drawings / photography which is sent to his/her agent, which is then transformed into (a) coffee table books (b) post cards (c) plastic figurines (d) stuffed animal redwood trees (e) redwood trees on t-shirts and stickers and pins and high-end dresswear
**the designs were shipped to China to be mass produced in a massive factory setting, all representations of this one tree, where they harvest resources from all over the world in order to make these representations of redwood trees (or fish, whatever) (global representation)
**then the redwood tree representations were redistributed back to America and Europe and Australia (which was considered worldwide) all of this one dxmn redwood tree or plot of land or ocean that was being protected (essentially mass-produced plastificated "nature")
**then there was a little boy or girl who went with his or her quasi obese mom or dad in the grocery store surrounded by plastic and food-like substances; they live in a city, and mom and dad earn a good living working for some corporations; and for some reason, though the kid had all these toys and their parents could by all these toys, then for some reason this kid has an arbitrary fixation on this plastic redwood tree in a Walmart store of sorts and that he begged for this tree and held on to it
**finally it was time for the family to go on a "cocoon vacation" because their parents were fed up of work; and they went on a fancy coccooned "land cruise" and were shuttled everywhere they wanted to go; the little kid (now with dulled stimulation from the plastic figurine), still clutched his toy through this cocoon vacation in hope that one day he will see the redwood tree
**the family went all over the American west and this kid was posed "standardized" distant photographs of the same kid in different backdrops, the kid looked rather apathetic while his mom made him pose in front of these places; the family looked distanced, withdrawan, distraught when going through their whirlwind tour; the kid and the family was in a cocoon box vacation and then they created these artificial boxes with photography
**and then finally, the family and the tour headed toward the famous redwood tree, and the kid became excited again, similar to the beginning of the music video, from zoomed out to zooming in, the kid marched through all the clutter surrounding this redwood tree, the locals selling crxp at their stands, the hordes of tourists, the pissed off loggers (fishermen and DFG and coast guard if fish), the NGOs and their picket signs, and the massive parking lot, then down to the rope and the fence
**then the little kid went up and stared up and up and up and up into the great big branches of the redwood tree, clinging to his toy, and the rope, and was just stupified, and then the boy saw that same scientist/artist in the beginning, and the boy was extremely jealous; he climbed over the fence and tugged on the scientist's t-shirt who was collecting data and drawing sketches, the boy showed the scientist his little toy redwood tree and then he streched his neck up way way far up and asked: "Is this that?" "Yes, indeed!" perked the scientist. And the researcher clutched the boy's arm and guided his hand to touch the tree... and it seemed that all the chaos and clutter and media and government and NGOs and facade representations of the redwood tree dropped out of the boy's memory like flies sprayed with windex
**it was the first time in the boy's life his droning apathy was transformed into inspiration
**the boy corresponded with the scientist for years to come and one day that boy became the same scientist and artists, and though he was sad all he wanted to do was to study this beautiful redwood tree, he had to play the game and mass produced the representations of it to the rest of the entirety of this society just to save it and leave it alone... SADLY...
**and that is the catch 22, the paradox, the oxymoron, the irony, the tragedy of nature inside the box

**they irony is you have to mass produce the representation of the real thing just to protect it and leave it alone; the irony is that it costs so much money just to leave a piece of land alone... and that in the end, there is no more infinity, no more Wildwest, no more vast, unspoiled land, but everyone ends up being stuffed in a box, humans, trees, and fishes included....

**a major point about open space is providing open space, infinity... but now... we're all in a box.
**the largest catastrophe of today is the SCALE OF OPERATIONS OF THIS SOCIETY. Because of it's relative size, I am placed in a position to mass produce representations of the things I love just to keep the things I love alive, and I can continue researching them....

417. Dying an Orange Death (Flash Fiction) Inventing New Rules to Hollywood Formula Storytelling (Poem / Song)

Song: Dying an Orange Death

I am dying an orange death,
Crawling for my one last breath,

Cupped by a splotch of petals--
Held by a web of nettles--

Of novel land's Absurd,
An Alien Absurd.


I am dying an orange death,
Parameter-izing a purple sketch

Within a leaf-like letter
Trekked for a semblanced-shelter--

How-could I be so lured?
Easily tripped, allured?


What's the point?--I'm
Dying an orange death.
Dislocate to
An Alien of lands.

What is the chance
To hold foot again?
What is the chance
Of rebirth again?

Role the dice
And Life's Life
Is slim--
For I'm dying
An orange death.


STORY:
Dying an Orange Death is a flash fiction story about Absurdity. I feel that Hollywood is very limited in it's storyline gimicks and that there are certain protocols not explored. For example, some existentialist koan type of material that I happened to experience in my own life. A few days ago I rescued an eccentric-looking caterpillar from being smooshed by a car while it was rapidly crawling across the parking lot (with no shrub or tree refuge in site of its course of action). Since I had never seen such a caterpillar before, I picked it up (along with a leaf) and took a moment from my self-absorbed life to take a few pictures of it within the shade of my car. Before I even had the chance to return this little fiesty bugger to a nearby bush, that creature started to frantically crawl around my arm and at the right place and right time, it fell within the crevice abyss within my parking break, in between the two front seats. Then I spent about five minutes trying to find the thing within the dark caves of my own metal motile contraption. I abandoned my efforts in helplessness. I was so aggravated by my efforts on trying to save this little creature, and now it's going to shrivel in my own hands, within the jungle of my own car! Soon enough, I had to dart into the Kinkos, work for a couple of hours, and then hit the road to Riverside, to which I came in to my parents' house late that night--too delirious to worry about a caterpillar. The next morning, as I proceeded to clean out the clutter from the vaulted interiors, I happened to elatedly stumble upon this frazzled little caterpillar--now worn out and beaten up, losing some of its hairs and feelers--curled up all shy and potentially tired from marching up to a peak of obviousness: the tip of the white lid of an old Starbucks coffee cup. At first I thought the creature was dead because it was very still. Then I poked it with a finger and it started to move! I then told my father about the trek of this absurd little caterpillar and he suggested that I transplant this thing into his California wildflower garden. I ended up placing this caterpillar in the cup of a barely opening poppy flower (late in bloom this year), and my father came to see the now scraggly, transplanted caterpillar, as he commented how it will be "dying an orange death." I exclaimed, "Gee, how poetic! I will write that down." He noted it was a bit repetitious--dying and death, and I said *whatever.* My father and I returned to the supposedly caterpillar-filled poppy flower a few minutes later (after I wrote down a few words), and then the caterpillar mysteriously vanished. We thought all the possibilities. Maybe it crawled out and started to explore the jungle of flower/weed fields underneath the poppy. Maybe it was grabbed by a hungry bird. Nevertheless, it was gone, and though all of it was quite dramatic, it was very anticlimactic in the end. I walked away from this little absurd adventure, asking "What's the point?" (I just told this story to Jules and he liked it a lot! I told him that Hollywood has a formula. I hate being stuck in a formula, and I wanted to invent new rules to the game. So I did. I created a story full of drama, but you leave feeling unsatisfied--like you work so hard to do something good, and in the end there is no resolution and no satisfaction. There was no point after all. The message is so stoic, so existentialist--I love it!

CAPTION:
"Dying an Orange Death" is a Flash Fiction Story (Memoir) and Poem about How I tried to rescue a caterpillar from its death in a parking lot, and in end, it self-induced its own death under my care... potentially within my car... and within the wildflower garden of my father. The goal of the story is to leave one wondering, "I try so hard to do something so magnificently minutely good... and in the end... what's the point? Nothing comes of it." I think this is the first Koan I ever experienced in my life!

CAPTION:
Dying an Orange Death. Flash Fiction Story (Koan) about saving a mysterious caterpillar from a certain parking lot death, leading to two encounters of uncertain death... and an unresolved future.