A Shipwreck. My Adventures on Borneo.

I just finished reading The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym, a story by Edgar Allan Poe. If you've read it, let me know what you thought of it, that story sure gets crazy near the end...

Part of the story is about a shipwreck. Reading those parts about the shipwreck brought back a lot of my own memories, from many many years ago, when I experienced my own misadenture at sea.

At the time, I was a wee lad of 12 years. I was idealistic, full of life and vigor, not yet hardened by reality and the onslaught of failure after failure that I would later experience in my adult life...

So, here's the story... two of my friends and I had decided to set out on a sailing voyage. I remember that first day, moments before we set out on our adventure. The sun was yellow and the sky was blue, and the clouds weren't in the sky but if they had been in the sky they would've been white. The butterflies fluttered about, drunken sailors sat on the beach and talked to each other, bragging about the previous night's debauchery (whorehouse stuff I guess). There were also hilarious knife wielding squirrels who patrolled the beach, stealing tourists' sandwiches at knifepoint. And there were lovers laying on the sand, curled together in blankets, condoms littered about them...

It was a beautiful day.

But my friends and I didn't have time to contemplate this beauty, we wanted to go on our adventure. We quickly clambered onto a catamaran, and set off into the ocean. I remember one distinct fact, the ocean was very blue. I also remember seeing a floating horse's head, it seemed like a bad omen, but at the same time, it reminded me of that movie, The Godfather, and I thought that was pretty freakin' cool. So, other than the floating horse's head, for the first hour or two, everything went well.

And then our boat flipped over.

My two buddies and I managed to cling onto the flipped over catamaran. We didn't panic. We were only 20 miles from shore. Although none of us was older than 14 years old, and none of us had any experience with the sea, well, we weren't worried. One of my buddies even wore an eyepatch, it made him seem tough and wise, and for some reason that eyepatch made us feel better about the situation. I also had a knife with me, it was my lucky knife. I called my lucky knife "Lucky." We were relieved that I had brought the knife along, Lord knows that Lucky could really come in handy. Unfortunately, when I checked my pocket to grab my knife, I realized the pocket was empty. Lucky had fallen out and had probably sunk to the bottom of the ocean. This was hugely disappointing. My lucky knife was no good to anyone now, well, maybe Lucky would fall into the hands of some ocean dwelling creature, like an electric eel or crab or octopus. And maybe the creature that found Lucky would use the knife for something good, like sharpening their teeth or cracking open an oyster.

As we looked down into the blue depths of the vast ocean, already disappointed by the loss of my knife, a terrible realization came upon us. We were in shark infested waters. And not just any kind of shark. These parts were infested with tiger sharks, the worst shark of them all. Now, you probably already know this, but I am afraid of sharks. Specially tiger sharks. Think about it, a tiger is already scary enough, right? And a shark, well there's nothing scarier! But to have a tiger combined with a shark, well, there's only one word for that: ridiculous.

In the end, we were lucky, we didn't get eaten by tigers, sharks, or tiger sharks. We magically drifted 3,000 miles, finally finding ourselves off the coast of Borneo, where we were saved by a group of fisherman just off the island's perimeter. Our shipwreck adventure had ended. But our adventures didn't end there, because once on the island of Borneo, we experienced many marvelous, crazy, and dangerous adventures. But, as I'm sure you already know, I wrote a novel about those adventures. And just in case you haven't heard of my novel, it's called: The Adventures I Had One Time on the Island of Borneo and Pygmie Elephants Kinda Freak Me Out But Tiger Sharks Are Worse I Guess So I Try To Put My Fear of The Pygmie Elephants In a Proper Context. It's a very good book, if I do say so myself.

Google Searches

Sadly, I have neglected the topic of google searches that lead to this blog. The wait ends now, I will create a journal entry out of some of the google searches that have led to my blog. The google searches are in italics AND bold...

Sebastien's Journal Entry

I saw a Simpsons' episode where they reenact 'The Shining.' Seeing that episode made me wonder if there is an episode where Spongebob does the Shining. I check Nickolodeon for Spongebob, but something else is on, a show on cats, I am displeased to say the least, if I want to see cats I might as well go waste my time on cats are cool!.com.

I change channels and see that a Duckbill Platypus movie is playing on cinemax. It is overly violent for my taste. Turning off the tv, I grab a book filled with pictures of daffy duck playing basketball, and can't help wondering if there is any way Daffy could beat the great white sharks basketball team. The sharks are an imposing team, what with their uniform that consists of dead taxidermied snakes, and their chant of "i lost my eye." The uniform and chant always strikes fear in the heart of opponents. Why, just the other day the sharks were about to play a b-ball game when their cowering opponents realized victory against these demonic sharks was impossible. In their fear the opponents yelled out,"Invisible things keep biting me!" They were quickly whisked away to the mental hospital, and in doing so ingeniously avoided a basketball match against the frightening sharks.

Meanwhile, the sharks were now left with free time on their hands. They decided to do a round table discussion on the literary merits of writers like Andre Gide and Edgar Allan Poe Sebastien. It was riveting and made for great television.

I forgot to tell you guys, it has recently been discovered that Poe had changed his name and added Sebastien to the end, it turns out Sebastien was his great inspiration and muse. Who knew? I have to admit, I'm the one who taught Poe how to paint bird feathers, and I also remember the time Poe asked me, what is journal entry? Yeah, I taught Poe everything he learned, even grammar skills...

Now, I'm sure many of you esteem Edgar Allan Poe, but truth be told, he was kind of annoying. For instance, he always whiningly asked me if he could borrow my laptop just so he could watch what he euphemistically referred to as 'videos chistosos de sexo.' I even saw him use my computer to google search things like 'fascist kitties' and 'real scary shit.' Let's just say Poe owes much to the internet for helping him find fantastic ideas. For example, you know that story of his, 'The Black Cat'? Well, Poe found all his material for that story by google searching 'felins not eating,' 'cruel thinking in the mind. How to overcome,' 'Edgar Allan Poe psychological aspects,' and 'pyschotic visions.' That's it, that's how the man created his stories!

Poe's final short story was called, 'I'm Still Thinking About You in French,' and as Poe tried to explain to me, the story was mainly about cool things on Allen Iverson. Let's just say I had to heavily edit that one, turning it from a simple laudatory story on the merits of Allen Iverson into a chilling tale of horror and suspense. The reworked story involves a scorpion painting, where the creature from the painting comes to life to haunt the main character. The drama involves the main character losing his glasses, and now, unable to see this terrible scorpion, he yells out with terror, "IM NEARLY BLIND WITHOUT MY GLASSES!" But don't worry, the story ends well, the scorpion died before he hurt anyone.

Poe's Ligeia. Thoughts on Opium. A Raccoon Ate My Headphones But First He Beat Me On the Head With Them.

First off, sorry, lately most of my posts have been on stuff I've been reading... I'll be doing celebrity posts soon... Beckham coming to the US, oh my! Let's all grovel, or shoot ourselves in the head, whichever you feel is more appropriate...

So, I finally got to read a bit today, and I'm totally digging this Poe story, Ligeia. Why? Yeah, it's a great story, but what I love the most is the idea of will. Will. The will to live, that's what the story is about for me. And love too. Love is cool. Can help bring you back from the dead.

See, Ligeia is this really fine woman that the narrator loves, and she loves him, with total passion. But she gets sick, and although she has a crazy desire and will to live, and this man she loves and wants to be with... well, in spite of these things she can't beat her illness. Ligeia dies.

But the thing is, this lady has such a burning passion to live, to come back, to return from death... Well, in the end, she does come back from the dead! Her spirit was so strong, her will was so determined, she was able to overcome the laws of reality... Something like that I guess.

I also dug how wind was mentioned in the story. This invisible, great force, wind, acting like a channel for Ligeia's spirit, a channel for her to come back to physical reality. Coolness.

There is only one little problem to this whole story. The narrator is always smoking opium, so he's not totally trustworthy. Ok, that is a little more major than I first let on. Damnit, the freakin' loon might just be imagining the whole damned thing! Dude, he doesn't even remember how he met Ligeia, kinda makes me wonder if Ligeia is even a real person or just a figment of his tripped out mind. It's ok though, because it's cool, that's his reality, even if it's not real.

When all is said and done, I really don't know what to think. I've learned nothing. The story is a mystery. The narrator is an opium smoking lunatic. Is opium that great by the way? Cuz, uh, this narrator guy kinda got me curious... wasn't Poe way into the drugs... didn't Poe end up in a gutter... would that make for a good anti-drug commercial?... or would people think taking drugs makes them do cool things like Poe, no not the ending up in a gutter thing, but the writing cool stories part. Yeah, it'd be a mixed message... I'd probably pass on using Poe in any anti-drug advertisements.

Since you mentioned opium... I wonder what kinda visions I'd have if I tried it, I wonder if I'd have cool visions... like seeing a crazy raccoon materialize out of nowhere, who would promptly attack all the objects in my room with a fierce and psychotic vengeance. Haha, that'd be great. But, Rambo's already beaten him to the punch, so it wouldn't be all that novel.

By the way, there's a couple stories in my Poe book that precede the story Ligeia, Berenice and Eleonora, really great, hghly recommend those stories too. To balance it out, the stories I don't recommend: I'm not fond of Poe's investigation/detective stories, I'd say they suck, but that's unduly harsh, they're just not my thing.

Sports, Sneak Attacks, and Books

Sports Stuff

Lots of sports stuff has happened lately. Great NFL playoffs, Cowboys lose in a wild finish (as it turns out I caught the game while playing poker with my sister and her friends!).

I've been watching most of the Suns' matches too, I usually take the opportunity to catch their games if I'm too tired to read or do something constructive. I really love watching their games, they have a great style and the perfect game plan, unbelievable how consistent they are. They keep winning, they crushed the Warriors last night.

The only problem is I love lying down on the couch or the floor when I watch these games, and that is when Rambo sneaks into the room. Then he usually sneaks over to where I am. I tend to be very into the game, or too tired to notice him, and before I can comprehend his presence he's already sunk his shark teeth into my arm! He's crazy. He starts barking at me, or trying to bite me some more. I think it's because he wants attention, he wants to play, poor little guy. I wish I could play with him in those moments but sometimes I'm too tired for that. I'll usually let him go outside in the yard, and I make sure to point out all the birds and rabbits, sitting pretty in the grass, munching away on seeds and feeding on the luscious grass. I'll whisper something into Rambo's ear, something along the lines of, "Look at that smug little bastard bird, look how goddamn content he is, walking about, with his chest all poofed out. Look, he's just pecking away in our yard, no worries in the world. He doesn't care about you. He doesn't respect you and your shark teeth!"

That gets Rambo going, he hates having other creatures in the yard, especially creatures that don't properly respect and fear him!

Books Stuff

I've been able to read a lot, as I've mentioned before. I started a really interesting French book, Les Faux-Monnayeurs (translated to The Counterfeiters in English) by Andre Gide. My parents got this book for me a while back. I've never read any of this author's books, I've heard a bit about him though, mostly about his best known book, L'immoraliste.

So far the book is pretty interesting, one of the main characters is very autobiographical (I assume). This character is very introspective and talks about lots of different things, has some interesting thoughts on art and life and all that. It's nice, I like getting a sense of the author's persona and ideas. I mean, not all books are meant to be intimate or about the author, but sometimes it's cool to feel that there is total transparency between the author and his writing. Like the writer is hiding nothing. It all depends on the books purpose of course, sometimes it's better when you don't even have to think about the author, and can just think about the story itself without worrying about the writer. Anyways, I'm not that far into this book, but I have a feeling it's mostly a meditation on art and life. Cool by me.

Quick thing. I totally loved this line in Gide's book, and I think it's true in certain respects, not necessarily about the British, but just the idea in general. A lady in Gide's book is telling her lover, who has just cheated with her:

"You remind me of certain British people; the more their thinking is emancipated, the more they attach themselves to morals; it's reached a point where no one is as puritan as these free thinkers."

In more book news, I'm still reading lots of short stories, mostly later in the day, specially at night. I'm really loving reading scary stories right before bed. Still reading lots of Poe, just read a great one by him, William Wilson, that was one cool story. I also re-read the Masque of the Red Death, that story is really growing on me. It's funny, I usually don't re-read authors, but it's very easy to re-read Poe, his use of language is very beautiful, and there are always new things to pick up on in the writing.

Another writer of short stories I'm totally digging: HP Lovecraft!!! This guy is ridiculously great, totally dark, really freakin' scary, sometimes his writing is a little over the top, but sometimes it's just perfect. Definitely recommend him, especially if you like very scary stories, stuff that will keep you up at night! I'll recommend some of my favorite stories very soon, once I've read a couple more... I'll give you some links, there seems to be a couple sites that have his stories.

On Stuff I'm Reading (What, Again!!??)

So, I just re-read Maupassant's 'Le Horla.' I freakin' love that story. Maupassant is obsessed with the invisible. He's always talking about invisible things that exist, powerful things like electricity and wind and all that sort of stuff. He usually uses those examples to set up this question: if we don't see those things yet they exist, aren't there other things out there that we don't see but that also exist? Ohhhh, I'm scared! Stuff like ghosts and monsters and everything. I'm gonna eat some meow mix to calm myself because that's too scary to think about.

Maupassant also thinks our senses are very weak so he's always going on and on about all the stuff we can't see or hear or even comprehend because our senses are too weak. For example, he mentions how weak our sense of smell is, say, in comparison to a dog's sense of smell. Whatever, I still think I'm cooler than a dog. Maupassant just wants to make me feel worthless... I think he was a very unhappy person, he did go mental in the end. He also always talks about how the senses we do have cannot perceive the very large and the very small. He wasn't around for Quantum Mechanics, poor guy, maybe things would've made a lot more sense, well, I dunno, maybe they would've made less sense?

I really dig his fascination with illness (another 'invisible' thing). I wrote about illness and the invisible a while back in my blog, and I wasn't reading Maupassant at the time, but I was thinking along similar lines. I wasn't specifically concerned with the supernatural, I was just fascinated by the idea that lots of 'invisible' things play a huge role in our life, not only illness, but things like gravity. Weird you know, all these invisible forces and things that exist...

I'd read Maupassant years ago, but his thinking and writing really didn't captivate me all that much. Since I've had to struggle with this illness, I've really come to appreciate his thinking a lot more. In the story of 'Le Horla,' the character becomes haunted by an invisible creature, the creature is sort of like a vampire and sucks your soul out and takes control of your body. I honestly think this creature is somewhat symbolic of illness, there are a couple references in the story to boats coming from Brazil (possibly with people carrying the disease that causes the insanity of the main character). There's also continual references to the main character's coachman being very sick and being unable to sleep due to some unmentioned illness. I also know Maupassant struggled with illness in his life (syphilis), so a lot his stories tend to deal with disease and illness, and an assortment of themes that goes along with those things.

I read the 'Masque of the Red Death' by Poe a while back, and there seems to be a lot of similarities between Poe's story and 'Le Horla.' Some similarities I can think of include the idea of seclusion, being trapped, an inability to escape, the fear of illness, fear of the unknown and the invisible, attempts to avoid reality...

Cynosure, Cool Art Links, and Thoughts on Stories I've Been Reading

Cynosure. I had no clue what this word meant. Maybe you do, but if you don't, here's the definition:

1. Something that strongly attracts attention by its brilliance, interest, etc.: the cynosure of all eyes.
2. Something serving for guidance or direction.

I think it's a cool word, I've come across it before, but only now have I finally looked it up. Maybe now that I blog about this word I will really remember it.

Art Stuff

Mariana has a couple of great art posts over at her blog. One post is about Rossetti, a Preraphaelite painter, she makes some fun observations... Another post is a collection of images, all beautiful still lifes.

Stories I've Been Reading

So I've been reading a lot more lately. I can't remember if I've already mentioned this. It's nice, but I'm so greedy, I just wish I could be running around doing stuff. I should be thankful I feel well enough to concentrate on reading, several months ago I would've given anything to be able to read consistently.

Now, I've always loved reading, but there's something a little too passive about it, I'd rather be experiencing life myself than having someone observe it for me. Well, not all writing can be reduced to that... but I'm sure you know what I mean. Especially given the context that I've experienced almost nothing beyond the confines of my room this past year, it's easier to understand why literature doesn't suffice. That said, it still does me good, it allows my mind to go to far away places and experience lots of random adventures (who'm I kidding, I don't need books for that, I have a bunch of peyote in my kitchen cupboard, always does the trick! not to mention all the hallucinations I experience that aren't even drug induced! What can I say, I'm blessed).

So, I've been reading lots of short stories. Been reading a lot of Edgar Allan Poe, and also lots of the French writer, Maupassant. I've really dug a lot of Poe's stories, some of my favorites include The Black Cat, Ligeia, Death Blow, A Mouse Killed My Ourang- Outang, The Pit and the Pendulum, Crack Smoking for Novices, and a range of other fascinating stories. Really cool stuff.

Maupassant is just as morbid as Poe, and really quite insane too. Let's see, the last story of Maupassant's that I read was pretty crazy. It was in the form of a diary. The diary is written by a prosecutor, he is a guy who spends his days sending murderers and rapists to prison or the gallows. But this prosecutor gets infatuated with the idea of what it must be like to kill someone, so he ends up killing a bunch of people to see what it's like. Uh, helloooooo, can you say psycho!? Unfortunately, the prosecutor's diary (in which he has meticulously detailed his crimes) is found only once he is dead, so he escapes earthly punishment for his psychotic deeds. Moral of the story: there's a lot of crazy bastards out there.

Hmmm, I wonder if my recent bouts of night terrors has anything to do with the fact that I'm reading stories like this right before going to bed... I need to start reading happy stuff.

Thoughts on Edgar Allan Poe and Basketball

First off, keep voting for me, and clicking on my pic over at 25peeps.com (I'm the guy staring at his hands with the dramatic lighting). You can vote every day by clicking on my pic. Only with your help can we defeat the competition, which is daunting (as my loyal general Babs pointed out!!!), have you seen all the tits and ass I have to go up against, it's ridiculous! I'm beginning to wonder if 25peeps isn't some sort of softcore porn site. But that, of course, is a topic for another day. Anyways, vote for me so that you may help me in my quest for world domination and my courageous attempt to thwart the impending duckbill platypus conspiracy.

Quick aside: My dog is chewing on the toilet.

Edgar Allan Poe

Now, I haven't read Mr. Poe's work since back in the day when I was a wee little schoolboy. I'm not quite sure why they made us read his work in school, his writing is brilliant, but his subjects and themes are a little macabre and intensely psychological, to say the least, and Poe's writing certainly went over my head at the time (I just thought his stuff was creepy).

Well, I'm not a big fan of short stories, but I said what the hell and decided to start reading this dude, got this nice little anthology of his work that I found. I FREAKIN' LOVE HIS STORIES! I'm so happy I started reading him again, well happy might be the wrong adjective, for godsakes, his writing is about as dire and murderously crazy as literature gets. Anyways, reading Poe has made me realize that I need to explore a whole new genre of fiction, horror stories. There doesn't need to be murderous bloodbaths in the stories, I tend to prefer the psychological aspects of fear and horror, moreso than bloody murders and physically appalling scenarios. So, if you have recommendations for me, please let me know of writers or stories I should check out...

Basketball

Have you seen the Phoenix Suns? They've won 12 in row, playing with panache and a sweet style, how can you not like this team, even if you aren't from Phoenix. They make basketball fun, run and gun, such a nice change of pace from the 90s where basketball was all muscle and grind, really really boring I thought. My art studio (which my buddies are keeping for me till I get better) is right next to the Suns' arena, I can't wait to get better so I can catch some games. It's been a long time since I've been interested in going to a sports game, but you know what, after watching the Suns on tv, I feel like they put on a great show which would be fun to see in person...