Less than an hour into the new year a homeless man sleeping on Rio Del Mar Beach was run over by an ATV. It was either a Kawasaki or a Honda. There were no screams. He did not survive. He had a long beard and was wearing a wool beanie that fell off into the sand. One size did not fit all. It was probably a size too small to fit his large head. The driver kept going. The driver shall remain nameless.
All poor, mediocre, and good stories require a decent narrative, a beginning, middle, and end, to start. At least that much. And then hope for more. It may make some sense. Sort of. Happy New Year. As of now, that’s old business.
There’s old business and there’s new business. Go to any business meeting to learn. Earlier that afternoon, a pair of disgruntled patrons, brothers as it turned out, who were dissatisfied with the quality of a shitty product they had purchased at Big Lots in East San Jose, pummeled the corporation responsible. You say no? Corporations are people, right? That’s what I heard. Are you saying they were wackos who said that? Ask the kid on the loading dock with a broken nose and split lip who was supposed to switch shifts and get off early.
If you define winning as exactly the way you are, how can you lose?
I was walking on that same stretch of Rio Del Mar Beach twelve to fourteen hours later and never knew what hit me. Not what had been there or what would be. Or could be. It was not the first time. The King Tide was low. The moon was coming on strong. It was possible to walk into salty water way over my head. Unless that was a mistake. When I snapped out of it, I said, “Keep it up and find out where it leads you.”
I know you need no coherent point of view to snipe at the other side. The other side could be any side, no matter. As a strategy, it works. As a way of life, too. Although it sucks. And causes deep knee and ass pain from bending.
Art that compels creates its own world that makes its own sense. Collisions do occur. It may seem odd, sexy, funny, sick, or askew. It may seem wrong. And not funny. Those who don’t get the joke may resort to violence and religion with greater frequency in response. Laws, too. And crimes. And punishment.
Art that sells well speaks volumes. No need to go there. Enough said. Buy now.
Big Lots also sold before the demise of the holiday season pens that turned out to be poisonous and smelly powder that caused an itch and was not well received. Sold it well, too. The itch was anal. But, that’s more old business.
Under new business, the head of Big Lots cut a huge new deal that stunk. It wasn’t just beans. It was silent but deadly. It stunk like a dead rodent in the wall. Stunk like plain old shit in a sewer. Heads turned slightly. Small dicks in the conference room shriveled further. There were no comments. All fact, no fiction.
If you don’t buy now, your small dick might fall off. If you don’t have one, you’re ahead of the game. Bow your head and be grateful for what you’ve got. But the game might catch up. Games can do that. Make sure that does not happen. Games with horns, bells, bombs, whistles, no matter. What does matter is location, location, location. Keep running.