Tuesday, June 7, 2011

My Cufflinks Are Made From Butterfly Wings



It took a lot of work to say those words and tell the truth. A lot of work to sound completely insane. I found my 1950s vintage tuxedo shirt to use in the arctic wolf documentary and since it had french cuffs I had to buy some butterfly wing cuff links that will blow your mind. Of course that is a woodland pine tree scene painted backwards on the glass with the butterfly appendage as a background. This was not in the budget but I had no choice. Pictures will follow along with diagrams of my gut expanding due to Indian Food Buffet at the Kabob Factory and the frozen custard place in Amesbury.*

If I can get a laugh in a month because of my costume and accessories that improbably appear in the arctic I want you all to note that butterfly cuff links did not magically appear on the french cuffs of my 1950s tuxedo shirt. No, that involved some tact and deft skill and unrecoverable fracking gas...and it took the precious wings of delicate butterflies stripped naked and flightless by demons. And in case the folks at the dept. of interior didn't get the message, "the American Linkpeople are jerking off their prides into the condoms of defeat."
whatever that means.

I feel good these days. Nothing is going my way but I feel focused and driven to my destined appointment with the imperiled wolf. I've even almost stopped thinking about the immortal beloved in Mexico. I'm almost free to write my book. I belong in a small fishing village in Newfoundland. Or maybe a pot farm. Somewhere I can work the land and fix small engines and play folk sings for people in rocking chairs. I know this. My quest to fix society is a fantasy but it is not a fantasy that I must pursue my own utopia in a land without internet or electricity. A land where money is not a substitute for trust.

My tuxedo shirt and butterfly wing cuff links deserve to be legends that become part of an Eskimo creation myth. I can not process the flaccid lack of ethics perpetrated by the frauds of modern information. The icloud network will render the PC obsolete because our pharaoh Steve Jobs has decreed it. And the copper of Argentina and the minerals of Alberta will co-mingle in his frog toe soup to create the semi-conductors that make that possible. Skyscrapers of data banks fracking the innocent sky as muskrats and wolverines scurry for shelter. I am merely another wolverine lost in the wilderness without the skills to survive. I volunteer for the night watch. My ruffled shirt will repel the armies of indifference and my butterfly wing cufflinks will deflect the demons of the dark.

*The custard shoppe in Amesbury doesn't sell any custard but they do have nice baby clothes.
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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.