Sour Milk at Bedtime
I think it was a nightmare...but in truth, I can't be sure. For a while there I had thought I lost my mind, which really isn't such a bad thing if you remember where you lost it...Ms. Weiss' class in high school; reading Ionesco? Or maybe it was later on, on Haight Street, in that bar with Mikey Jones. It really doesn't matter; it's the dream that matters...if it was a dream!
I was sitting at my lap-top, and the screen...it just transformed; transmuted actually...turned to jelly; crimson red, right above the knobs and dials that were once the keyboard...then the strange thing happened; it turned to cable news.
Sean Hannity was anointing Bill O'Reilly's head with oil as they discussed Sean's grad school dissertation from Imaginary U. And with allegoric reference to a Mike Huckabee revelation, that God will judge as heathens all who fail to heed his words, they quote... "If you're not a born again Christian, you're a failure as a human being."... And say "Amen."
They were naked, eating pudding as Hannity quoted Reagan from the Bible, swigging Irish Whiskey, while appeasing O'Reilly's self-esteem with obsessed, adoring eyes. O'Reilly closed his eyes and dreamed of waned Antarctic icecaps disclosing virgin mountain peaks to be proclaimed the Fourth Reich's prospect haven under plutocratic rule.
Hannity then took a call...Obadiah Bush, it seems, had risen from his briny grave to find a payphone off the Jersey Shore and begged forgiveness for his kinfolk's wayward ways.
O'Reilly grew increasingly upset and threw his pudding at a passing griffon before ripping out the chord. By then the set was overrun by overzealous homophobes and bigots seeking absolution for their sins by hunting down the liberal swine that cast aspersions on the grave of William Randolph Hearst.
Then everything went black...
When I came to, I was on the toilet with an Etch-A-Scetch, bewildered by the fact that somehow, someone, had retraced the grout lines on my bathroom tile using Cheeto's as a dye and filled my tub with Jelly Belly's . My head still spinning from a Kafkaeque rendition of the nightly network news, I erased the hieroglyphic icons from my Etch-A-Scetch's screen, and dismissed my new décor to gain more focus on my dream. That's when it all made sense...at least to me. I've been watching too much television!
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