Wednesday, July 20, 2005


They set up the virgin sacrifice in the car port. The willing volunteer poised herself on the swing, ready to release herself to the gravity that would draw her into the salivating mouth of the beast before her. In these, her last moments, her life flashed before her. She saw the sweet boy in grade school who had held hands with her, that first awkward kiss with an unacquainted brother of a friend, the first tingling of tongue against tongue. She relived the first dance in which stiffening manhood pressed against her in all its titillating mystery. Breathless moments vaulted visually before her, heart beating fast, spurred on by forbidden sensation. She became vaguely aware that the images flashing were new, yet unlived. She lay with a dark-eyed boy, embraced him passionately, feeling her innocence slip into blissful oblivion. Then her vision cleared. Her orientation found her on the swing, ready to surrender to the gravitational forces that would draw her mercilessly into the quivering mouth of the waiting beast. But the beast sensed a change which disagreed with him violently. It shuddered, throbbing from pale to red to violet, finally popping into a cloud of nothingness, like a soap-bubble condom playfully inflated past its bearable tension. The girl arced back and forth on the swing, ever higher, enjoying the summer breeze against her cheeks.

Story #251

21 comments:

Doug said...

Great story. I didn't realize how much I missed this.

Indeterminacy said...

Doug! You're supposed to realize that!

M.P. said...

Easy to understand what surely saved her!:)**

Tom & Icy said...

Very sensual coming of age story.

fluff said...

living again all the beautiful events made us from girl into woman, big ones and small ones, moments we forgot that we remember, such a wonderful thing doesn't often happen to us... and she owes it to a monster!

Indie, please accept my warmest welcome I couldn't give yesterday as I was too distracted. I was missing your daily stories.

Doug, this was the first time in my life that a boy gave me cartwheels! and two! thank you! anyways, Jimmy, Fred and the others are creatures of a Hungarian writer, Rejtő Jenő (1905-1943), and no way were they pirates. Jimmy had the frendliest smile from ear to ear, so those he didn't slap in the face often didn't take him seriously, those he did, spent many time in hospital. Fred was called Dirty because he never washed, but since the old man had more brain than the rest of the world, so people both hated him and were afraid of him. the entire company appears in more books of Rejtő, who is one of my fave writers and I love him. it's unbelievable that you made up a figure and gave him the name Jimmy Longears. viva to you! viva to your nonexistent Yugoslavian ancestors!

Sreekesh Menon said...

a wonderful blog you have here; you will see more of me and my insanity here( i claim its a good thing)

The Mushroom said...

I like a girl who swings. And isn't afraid of big scary monsters who are ready to eat her.

one said...

What a brave little virgin!

Erika said...

which set of cheeks dear?

Anonymous said...

Cage was fond of quoting Erik Satie to the effect that 'experience is a form of paralysis'. An action repeated is a kind of death. You are certainly experienced in this art and extremely good at it, but I wonder what it is doing for your development, both artistic and spiritual ?

Indeterminacy said...

Anonymous: I appreciate and can relate to your comment. I've set myself a limit of 360 stories, but I believe I am already developing this "experience as paralysis" feeling. While it's often impossible for people to gain the objectivity necessary to judge their own personal development I feel that my writing is at a consistent quality. I don't see myself soaring into some kind of new heights with this. The first stories were the most fun and often the easiest to write, instant inspirations. I couldn't even say it's harder to write, but it's harder to find photos that set off that inspiring spark, maybe because I've seen so many photos (see #200). I think today's story, #252 has that spark. I think the ones I started out with after vacation don't (#249-251). I wrote to a fellow blogger about this and that blogger noticed a similar effect in that blogger's own writings, although outwardly the writing still looked as brilliant to me as ever, and my stories seemed as good to the blogger as ever. But more and more I think I understand Retarius and his decision to stop blogging for a while. 360 is a nice round number, but have I set my sights too high? I wonder if maybe I should just go to sporadic posting? In the beginning I posted 7 days a week, now it's 5 a week, but even that is relatively frequent, compared to other bloggers. I certainly will stop if I think the quality starts going downhill. If anyone out there notices that before me, please let me know.

Michael said...

Damn you're good.

I think I'm supposed to be jealous and hate you but you always make me laugh or wonder. Plus you get the coolest photos!


Take Care
Michael

Anonymous said...

Well, why not go the full Cagean hog and use chance operations to determine the length and frequency of your posts ? I know this would disappoint your readership, but it would create a new angle of interest for you.

Indeterminacy said...

I like the idea of chance operations determing the theme of the story, or maybe even the first word, or a set of words to use in the entire story. I'll think it over. Possibly no one would even notice if I started doing that.

Anonymous said...

the idea is not to be noticed. The idea is 'to make us susceptible to divine influences'.

Indeterminacy said...

That's probably the point where I lean more towards Jungian ideas of synchronicity as opposed to Cagean musical concepts, of which I'm not all too familiar. The basic idea I've taken from Jung is to listen to the spontaeous inspirations, even if I don't always understand why they came or where they came from. They might just as well be divine.

Indeterminacy said...

Mr. (or Ms.) Anonymous, I'd be interested in knowing who you are. Not your identity, but your involvement with Cage, et al. And to what extent you use these ideas of creativity in your own life/work/art. It sounds to me as if you have a significant involvement with them. The points you're making are most relevant.

Anonymous said...

My involvement with Cage came from a number of directions. I was fascinated with the idea of 4.33", without really knowing why or understanding its importance. He was held up as an example of what was ridiculous about modern music, yet it was clear that he was a 'serious' composer.

Then, perhaps like you, I heard the 90 stories, or a brief extract from them on NY public radio. Interviewed, he spoke of Satie and sartori. I learnt that there was a whole language, perhaps even a geography of what we might call silence or nothingness.

The other impetus for me is more difficult to talk about. It has to do with a form of illness. In my life, wierd as though it may sound, either my spirit/soul never completely entered my body, or it got the hell out of there once it realised where it was. I have spent the greater part of my life existing outside myself, and it for this reason that I was fascinated by his involvement with eastern philosophy and his attention to the minutiae of everyday sounds. In particular, I liked the fact that beauty was created without the intervention of his conscious mind. (Duchamp, too, didn't want anything to do with the conscious). I was attracted to this because, as it were, my conscious mind was located outside my body and I had an appreciation of the non-logical.

I met Cage, once, at a conference in London on Art and Chess. He was accompanied by Teeny Duchamp and the two of them sat in the back row of the theatre like 2 giggling children. I was so in awe of him, that when I came face to face, I had nothing to say. Silence seemed appropriate, even though it was clear that he was making himself available to me.

My 'disembodiment' has taken its toll on my life and I have suffered some really wierd internal sensations. I have been close to madness and I have first hand experience of 'the void'. Cage gave me a language for my strangeness and I have gradually managed to re-pack my soul, as one would a parachute. I am now pretty damn sane feeling much more at ease with life.

I found your blog through Reality Avoidance Therapy. I take photographs without looking through the viewfinder. It's my way of avoiding the conscious reflex. Most of the results are rubbish, but once in a while the unexpected happens. And then it's all worthwhile.

'Being susceptible to the divine...' was Cage's reason for doing art. He got it from an Indian musician whose name escapes me. Above all, he lived entirely in the present moment, a moment that does not conform to logical or grammatical rules. He knew that we limit ourselves by being imprisoned by artificial structures and his motto was: 'Get yourself out of whatever cage you find yourself in'.

I really applaud your art. There is nothing like creating whole new worlds out of the everyday. James

Indeterminacy said...

James, thank you so much for that statement. I'm going to print it out and put it up by the pc where I look for the photos and write the stories.

I wonder if you are familiar with the music of Gary Wilson, an artist who also met John Cage and is influenced by his work. I learned about him through a mutual friend but it's ironic that my interest in John Cage came completely independent of Gary's. I did not know about that connection until much later.

Indeterminacy said...

One more thing about G.W. I had a link to an interview going into detail about Gary's meeting with John Cage, but the Website has apparently gone offline. I found the original text at archive.org:

Interview

Anonymous said...

I wonder if we could take this discussion off-thread ? I'd be interested to know how Jung fits into the scenario (although I can imagine). Please e-mail me at your leisure: churtonesq@hotmail.com