Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Darko and the Aircraft Carrier

A silveric dark timber wolf named Darko climbed to the top of a charmed blue wood mobile adorned fir at Walled In Pond today. Apparently Darko had been harassed by the coyotes I was trying to induce to hunt and kill a buffalo-tatanka ghost I had chained to a support beam at the Walled In Pond Chich (Def. chich: equivalent to church but with a naizzy word sound spin to freshen the air around the word church). I was tired of consorting with birds and am currently Alaskan Husky-less so coyotes were the next best thing and since I had a buffalo-tatanka ghost on hand I thought, "what the hell, why not use it as bait to attract coyotes". I mean I have heard the coyotes yelping many a time at night while walking through the Walled In Pond Woods hunting Grey Aliens and UFOs.  I just wasn't sure if that wasn't a Gaea goddess witch crone wasp honey bearer of the wood or some other freakish paranormal supernatural phenomenon or what. The small event horizon of human reason is definitely haunting.

But superstition aside, the coyotes ignored my buffalo-tatanka ghost offering and went after the ubiquitous feline brown alley cat raised straight out of a crack in the jank-junk pile wall of the antique shop on Main Street in Ansonia next to the dismembered, cracked, eroding, dusted, white, used to be regal, statue of a lion that happily, in dull complacency, stood guard over the entrance to some drive of some house in the area and now lies broken and crumbling in its resting place with a speck of Egyptian Sphinx dust sand on top. This fallen statue is across the way near the entrance to the Secret Garden in the graffitied Janky Alley running next to the antique shop. What use is a lion or a dusted gargoyle these days anyway to chase away and protect one against evil spirits? My house, the chich of Walled In Pond, and the woods needs a good thorough haunting anyhoots.
Short story short, Darko climbed the fir to get at a hippie charm at the top of the tree apparently because it was something tantalizingly edible. A passerby noticed the timber wolf stuck and called the Fascist Blue Light Squad or Poo-lice or Police. Engines from 3 fire stations followed by 50 whack job volunteer fire fighters arrived on the scene and then a messy, rough, unruly, aggressive fascist slew of police cars shining their glaring alert lights recklessly. A makeshift temporary barricade was constructed to make sure citizens kept clear and away, even though nobody was at the scene, as a squad of vigilant officers was posted around the barricade consisting of 3000 orange construction cones replete with yellow flashing warning lights. A Sikorsky helicopter did a fly by and hovered around for a while, and finally, since the helicopter could not get the job done, and neither could the police or firemen, an aircraft carrier was called upon and deployed by the US Navy and allowed to float in Walled In Pond after an Ansonia Nature Center Emissary granted permission.
In the aftermath, the Captain of the aircraft carrier, whose name we cannot mention nor the name of the ship; not because some of government censorship due to sensitive information (I mean conspiracy theories and other covert garbage are a real lame bore), but because the craft was so covert, super-stealthy and so low profile, so unimaginably low profile, 100 million times more so than Hollywood undercover, black ops, FBI, CIA, KGB movies like, The Bourne Identity, that we just couldn't obtain the name of the ship despite its large size relative to the small sized Walled In Pond. Sorry moms, you will never know if your mega valiant military navy son is a hero or not for watching the rescue of the common silveric fanged timber wolf Darko from a fir tree at Walled In Pond near the Ansonia Connecticut Nature Center. We do know however that the captain had to be given a new jacket because the one he had was so filled with medals of honor from the incident it was thereafter too heavy to wear and besides it was retired into the super prestigious Hall of Hero's so dear to heart's of all Americans.
Wait hold on: is there even a Hall of Heroes in the US (I mean just because you died doesn't make you a hero, and I, off the top of my head, know no other war heroes in common Generation-X lime light circulation in the US other than the Red Baron or a George Washington - Washington living a million years ago or so anyway)? A Valhalla? Certainly there is no Odin and or his Valkyries to make such decisions these days and the Christian God (does he even have a cool amp-ic mach-ic razor blaze bomber blue lit naizzy name, or any name besides God? Why so anonymously vapid and plain and esoteric? Maybe He is a lame covert lamer and thus is the guiding light over this country where everyone thinks they are the most covert sun glass wearing bandits on earth) and his [sic] followers are way too busy weeping mawkishly over and pornographically kissing the cross to pay any attention to such matters.  America definitely needs a Tyr or at least a Mars or Athena temple; not constructed of course in un-original lame Greek pillared architecture of course.  But that is asking too much of course from the mega super lame covert esoteric Skull and Bones secret society inner rectum sanctum of the war decision makers, who must secretly worship some war god, but are too Modern femmy good to make war temples and wage manly good wars yet never fail to "Shock and Awe" middle eastern camels, innocents, and ill equipped Iraqi bandits who probably would have surrendered anyway if asked.  I mean it is like aiming the Super Star Destroyers full weapon system, more powerful than the Death Star's, at R2D2 point blank, while screaming in a Rathi Berserker Wrathic Hurricanic Rage-ic Frenzy: "Shock and Awe," right before dusting the little droid to incineration infinity.  Lame.
At least that is what Draco Ruffinius Feralcrow, Private Obvious Rogue of the Silent Dark Echelon Deathnaught(not) Tri-Froces, has to say about it.  I am a Norse ode-ing Odin Chanter Pagan if you haven't already guessed trying to reincarnate Odin with the leverage of disbelief by using the Ex-caliber Protocol (ex-caliber protocol meaning: hasta la victoria siempre without the use of shells of any caliber) weaponry, appellation: Dreadthicnal Crys-tear-grim-dag-nir - created through my poetic verse and offered to the one handed Tyr (Norse Mythologies Uncloaked God of War) who lost his hand in the binding of Fenrir (the wolf destined to destroy the world at Ragnarok or the end of days).  My method to resurrect Odin's essence is to ram the poetically crafted weaponry, Dreadthicnal, so deeply into the blindside of Nothing (fore nothing does exist) in an attempt to dis belief to the extent that it converts me to become a believer in something by failing to exist so hard that it is something believable.
The Fate of Darko
Nobody knows nor could care hard enough to find out for sure nor could make any reasonable determination after the maelstrom vortex dust cloud settled over the Mega Cloaked Covert Quiet USS Anonymous Aircraft Carrier debacle that struck hit cracked down so hard and lightning fast with super mega stiff, efficiency so efficient it was inefficiently efficient, humanitarian, abortivic fascist "shock and awe" global savior protocol.
"When Fascism comes to America it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying a cross."  ~Sinclair Lewis~

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