Eyelashes

I have long eyelashes. The better to bat you with. It’s something I don’t get to appreciate as much as other people who can view my profile without the aide of mirrors. I think it’s supposed to make my eyes soft.

Close up, my eyelashes seem grotesquely insectoid, like centipede legs (or like the fraying of an 18th century English whore’s hairbrush). In the morning they split open like two crusty cocoons, my left eye slightly faster than my right. But every day my left eye squanders its birthright for a good rub. Thus it’s cursed with astigmatism. At least that’s the story passed around by the scholars.

During the summer the fleas slide down my eyelashes and plunge into my cereal. In the dead of winter my eyelashes form icicles that scratch the surface of my eyeballs when I sleep so that I wake up red-eyed and passersby think I’m strung out and homeless. I just let them wonder. Long eyelashes conceal my eyes as well as my mysterious intentions.

Green eyeballs and long eyelashes. They would have branded me a wizard were I born in medieval times.

David Bowie. Jack the Ripper. Merlin. The prophet Jonah. They all had long eyelashes and green eyes (so did Rip Van Winkle and possibly Rip Torn, but don’t quote me on that).

We see the world through a darker filter. The stars glow fainter. Fire appears to burn less dangerously. We share more traits with the feline than the ape and curl up when we sleep. And we’re selfish as hell (something only we would brag about).

Do you want to touch them? Did you know that touching my eyelashes grants you three wishes? Did you know that the Nazis destroyed long eyelashes in great organized bonfires?

The eyes are the windows to the soul, and my eyelashes are the blinds. Or the prison bars.

Or are they the tuft of wild brush at the edge of the watering hole? Peer through the tall grass. Gaze into the pool and ponder your own reflection. What do you see?

Puff

slow burn cancer stick
smoke blown cigarette
nicotine infected smile
yellow pearly marble wall

time dishonored sacred stone
feeble addict sitting home
lighted fuse in stoic mouth
dripping ashes all around

beautiful diffusing gas
incense rising past the trees
gray muzzled hoarsy throat
glossy aged eyes

front porch romantic night
moonbeams filtered light
moping full with sorrow songs
red orange burning spite

respite coming sleep or wake
pack of problems near
hold it in two fingers
and release the lungs

75th Post Tostitos Fiesta

We're living la vida loca here at JiVE, celebrating the wildest literary feat since the invention of MAD LIBS. It's the 75th Post TOSTITOS Fiesta. Why not join us with a big bag of Flour TOSTITOS Tortilla Chips and Creamy Southwestern Ranch Dip, perfect for any occasion?

Sorry, we legally had to say that.

My oh my! I do believe it's been even longer between the 50 and 75 than the fisrt prolific 25 posts, but this has become a serious artistic (and commercial) endeavor. F'er can remember when he was a mere "newbie" blogger, the digital world at his fingertips. He had a lot of big crazy ideas, his mind pregnant with what he thought were revolutionary notions that the world actually gave a hoot about his daily manifestos.

Hopefully, what you are reading today is the reflection of a more mature rhetorician. Doubtful. So what have we learned since Post #50 anyway? We must ask ourselves, "What does it all mean?"

Perhaps the end of the post on November 22, 2006, F'er's review of Fast Food Nation, sums it up best:

"But as with cattle, it sometimes takes some uncomfortable prodding to move us from our complacency."

Heck, does F'er really want to be sitting here doing this right now? Maybe not, but he knows that when all is said and done, he and his readers will understand more of this crazy mixed up world than they did before.

But enough sulking, it's time to party! Let's divy out the awards.

1. Best Tearjerker Post:

Where Have All the Birthday Balloons Gone? (June 28, 2006)

F'er's essay on the injustices of the corporate mechanism takes the cake here. A boy forced to work on his birthday! O the humanity!

2. F'er's Biggest Breakthrough Performance:

Amateur Backyard Wildlife Photography (April 23, 2006)

This amateru endeavor was a near breakthrough on the national scene. Please you to notice that the bona fide author of Digital Art Photography for Dummies gave me props for my work.

3. Best Titled Post

hE:ll, SE:ll, BE:ll (Dec. 11, 2005)

Well this shows how lazy F'er has been for the last 25 posts, all the way back to '05. Geez. Anyway, this is the best title. I'll have you know that hell, sell and bell correspond to three different upside-down times on a digital clock. Time passing. Let's appreciate that for a moment.

OK.

Let's continue. This next one's for all the cherries.

4. Best Post

Cops and Dogs (April 2, 2006)

I like it. What can I say? A nice work of short non-fiction if I do say so myself. It will be compiled in the 2007 Compendium of Human Thought, published by TOSTIDOS Printing Group, New York. Look for it, kids.

Well that's all she wrote. I don't know about you but my mouth is really watering for some chips and salsa after all that chips and salsa I just ate. I'm gonna go make another snack run. BRB.