Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Oggy On The Loose

This is a rear axle/differential from an old bus or truck. Used as a guardrail.

I wish I were joking but I got violently sick for two days in a strange city, delusional dreams, awful waking nightmares, body ache, and profuse diarrhea. The van smelled like a morgue, but I was unable to move or cry for help. I did manage to shit myself and here's a picture of me washing the shit out of my long underwear. Awful. I spared you the gory details.

Oggy, at a crossroads. I took the road less traveled by...and that has made all the difference.
I wasn't going to share this video because it could be later used as evidence of my deteriorating mental condition, but I was sick at the time with food poisoning or amoebas or some kind of Matrix worm running around my my intestines. So that's my excuse.


Danny Flannagan said...

And if you understand me, Willard, will do this for me.

Oggy Bleacher said...

I really tried to think of it...thought it might be Hoosiers...or an obscure Clint Eastwood western...but you're referring to my descent into the heart of darkness. Yes, I've gone done the river and seen things...and I am tortured by what I've seen. Your quote is appropriate.

Kurtz: I've seen the horror. Horrors that you've seen. But you have no right to call me a murderer. You have no right to call me a murderer. You have a right to kill me. You have a right to do that, but you have no right to judge me . It's impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means. Horror. Horror has a face, and you must make a friend of horror. Horror and mortal terror are your friends. If they are not, then they are enemies t o be feared. They are truly enemies.
I remember when I was with Special Forces--it seems a thousand centuries ago--we went into a camp to inoculate it. The children. We left the camp after we had inoculated the children for polio, and this old man came running after us, and he was crying. He couldn't see. We went there, and they had come and hacked off every inoculated arm. There they were in a pile--a pile of little arms. And I remember...I...I...I cried, I wept like some grandmother. I wanted to tear my teeth out, I didn't know what I wanted to do. And I want to remember it, I never want to forget. And then I realized--like I was I was shot with a diamond...a diamond bullet right through my forehead. And I thought, "My God, the genius of that, the genius, the will to do that." Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure. And then I realized they could stand that--these were not monsters, these were men, trained cadres, these men who fought with their hearts, who have families, who have children, who are filled wi th love--that they had this strength, the strength to do that. If I had ten divisions of those men, then our troubles here would be over very quickly. You have to have men who are moral and at the same time were able to utilize their primordial i nstincts to kill without feeling, without passion, without judgment--without judgment. Because it's judgment that defeats us.
I worry that my son might not understand what I've tried to be, and if I were to be killed, Willard, I would want someone to go to my home and tell my son everything. Everything I did, everything you saw, because there's nothing that I detest more than the stench of lies. And if you understand me, Willard, will do this for me.

Oggy Bleacher said...

Flanagan, you should know the movie...

Anonymous said...

Please go to the store and kill yourself.

Oggy Bleacher said...

don't be alarmed, I think that may be a comment I wrote to myself during my night terrors.

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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.