Overheard at Table 1: Notes for April is the Cruelest Month

 
April is the Cruelest Month

"Man's yesterday may never be like his morrow; Nought may endure but Mutability. "
— Percy Bysshe Shelley


What does that mean?
 

It means that I’m going to mute you now.
 

The sharpened rebar pierced Marc through his navel, and erupted from his spine.  Marc was lifted high into the air, impaled and screaming, and brought down savagely onto the ground.
 

1/2
 

Oh my GOD! Mags! what he’s doing to that poor man.
 

I know!  Glorious, isn’t it!
 

No, it’s horrible
 

The beautiful brutality! Finally, a man worthy of our lust!
 

What do you mean OUR lust?
 

 2/2
#Mags




I brought this to you because I thought you could help.
 

How can I help?  
 

You both share the same … determination.
 

Thank you for the compliment, detective.
 

It wasn’t a compliment.
 

Yes it was.  You just don’t want to admit it.   But anyhoo, all I can tell you is what you already know:  he’s killing member of this “dark poets community” – how many is that?
 

Hundreds – even thousands.
 

Well, you got a lot to choose from, but mainly it seems like he’s going for the ones he thinks are not “real writers” – those who don’t actually write or who just fool around in other people’s DMs.
 

But why?
 

He’s an editor.  In his mind, the whole community is a book, and he’s whittling it down until it’s fit for publication.
 

That’s insane.
 

Writers are a strange bunch, but editors, well, they’re even stranger.  Their logic is well, let’s just say, it’s esoteric.
 

That’s not very helpful.
 

Just look for the ones in the group what haven’t actually written a lot in the past few years.  Start with them.  HE certainly has.
 

Thanks … don’t know if you’ve been much help, but thanks.
 

Oh, and detective, if you do catch him, tell him 2 Peter 3:17
 

Do I have to look that up or are you gonna tell me.
 

“Be careful that you are not carried away with the error of lawless people and lose your own stability.”   

You would do well to hold on that verse yourself.
 

See ya ‘round, Billy.
 

You know where I am, Detective. I ain’t goin’ nowhere but the chair.

Overheard at Booth 4: Truth and Pain and Light

2024-0419
 

He sang “Start a fucking revolution” to the tune of “Glory Glory Hallelujah” in his car and fed it to his Instagram.  He had driven up from Florida the day before and was now sitting in New York City, a place filled with congestion and people and pamphlets and fences and he could feel the conspiracy crushing him with every breath.
 

He had a box of pamphlets that he’d printed.  The people needed to be told that they are being duped, led, controlled, and ultimately, would be abandoned.  If only the people would listen, but they never seemed to listen.  The people only wandered around in their own worlds, their own little minds, marching back and forth from their jobs to their homes to restaurants and high school football games like ants.  Like mindless ants.
 

They would have to pay attention.  The jury selection for the trial was underway and there were so many media cameras, he would get a perfect shot.  He would light up like a beacon on their cameras.  The media wasn’t good for much anyway, sending out nothing but lies and foam to keep the brains in fog, but at least today they were on a live feed, and they wouldn’t be able to pull away from the light.  
He got out of the car, with his box of pamphlets and the liquid fire.  He was Prometheus.  The bringer of fire the bringer of light the voice crying in the wilderness, “I am come to bring you light, to awake all you who are sleeping in darkness!”
 

He walked to the center of the small square, threw the pamphlets in the air, and doused himself in the liquid fire and lit the spark and suddenly he was light and with light there was pain and such pain it was such exquisite pain and he screamed and in the pain of the scream there was truth, naked truth, and now at last, everyone would awake to the Truth and the Pain and the Light

Overheard at Table 2: Neighbor's Parties

My neighbor was partying and playing loud music until 2am last night.  I couldn't sleep.  But I remembered what we'd learned in church about doing good to the people who annoy you ... so I stayed awake and at 7am, I started mowing his yard.  Even used the leaf blower.

Overheard at Table 3: ChristoFascism Kills Leviticus

Just read an article by a man trying to spin Leviticus 14:33

Saying that to be kind to the foreigner was meant only to be kind to the "Ger" which is a foreigner who had specifically asked permission to be in the lands.

This is an attempt to apply it to modern-day America and his argument is that Liberals are trying to use the Scripture to justify open borders.

OK, on that second point, he is using a Strawman logical fallacy: stating that the Liberal use of scripture is promoting some sort of extreme existential threat.  This is simply a lie.  By adding that to his essay, one would easily be able to dismiss the rest of the essay by recognizing that the argument being made is in bad faith and with spurious intent.

However, let's give a bit of credence to the main argument, simply for arguments' sake:

He said that the kindness is only to be extended to the people who had asked for permission to be in the lands.

Immigrants on the southern border turn themselves into Border Patrol asking for asylum.  They are the modern equivalent of asking to stay in our land.

Additionally, the majority of "illegals" have simply overstayed their visa.  They, too, have asked to stay in our land.

A case can be made that the majority of immigrants to the USA have asked to stay in our lands.

Therefore, they fit into the definition of "ger" as the writer of the essay has stated.

Overheard at Table 1: Autopsy Results for the American Empire

 

 

 

 

 

 

And in the end
the autopsy will affirm
that the American Empire
died
from choking on its own vomit

Overheard at Table 3: Thought for the Day

 
"The attempt to force human beings to despise themselves is what I call hell."
— Andre Malraux

Overheard at Booth 4: After the Affair

So, our affair.  Did it maim you, too?

Did ... you just quote Taylor Swift?

She speaks for a generation.

Yours, not mine, kiddo.

You seemed to enjoy her music those lunches on the way to the hotel.

#Erotica280 83 Affair

Overheard at Table 1: Poetry Concerts in the South

The Poet said, "Aw man I HATE doing shows down there.  Every single time, I'll be giving them ballads and some Greatest Hits Sonnets, and inevitably, some local yokel will pipe up an yell 'FREE VERSE!' and I'll be like, 'This ain't that kind a show, bro!'"