joe Linus aka One-Legged Heart

Gallery 4

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Random Narrative #686   82216  © joe Linus One Legged Heart  all rights reserved

I’d  not gotten the impression that my father ever killed a man. As a soldier in the army, a corporal, he said.  I think the time for talking ‘bout these things had passed by then. The narrative no longer focused on telling tales of war.  “loose lips sink ships” is all my father said to me.  And with this solitary clue I lived my early years quietly on the eastern edge of that suburban frontier  his victory had  secured.

 East Manoa Road  was a boundary blend of old and new.  With rows of fresh brick houses built to serve  returning soldiers and their brides. Across the street were houses from another time with big strong pillars  holding roofs up over broad,  shady porches.   Big houses they were, with nook and cranny rooms  and secret passage ways within.  And trees that had been growing there forever, spreading  out  their gracious limbs over the  green  garden yards.

 

  Apple trees,  heavy with ripened fruits,  and swarms of drunken honey bees to languish on the  soft brown golden cores  that dropped  unharvested   to rot upon  the ground. Grass…..

Here’s another one of these random narratives that we can use to help the robot understand the meaning of life which apparently has escaped at least temporarily the mindset of the millennial robot programmers who are calling the shots  on visitor value these days .

You know, I will tell you the most meaningful thing, or one may say thought, that I have noticed about preparing these random narratives to fulfill robotic requirements for  review is the undeniable fact that the word millennial has two instances of the letter I and also two instances of the letter l as well as, surprisingly, two instances of the letter n. Yes, that is a very confusing and unexpected situation as any one might concur. The letter n or which may be pronounced as nnnna. The question  comes to mind readily  when one searches for meaning in this twenty-first century—whether or not the letters  within individually are countable as contributing to a meaning in the world, whether or not that particular sound is existential in nature or merely guttural in expression. These are issues which the programmers have yet to address or provide sufficient information for us  artist types to make any kind of reasonable judgement. So one is  just about forced to ask, is it going to go on like this stupidity for the foreseeable  future or will these greedy bastards actually come to understand that the world does not revolve around their homeless souls; does not depend or rely upon their educated guesses, nor does an artist rely upon  the deep pockets of  these perverted spirits that rule the creation of profit-programmed robots. But that being said, I do see that this paragraph has likely reached a threshold where it has adequately served it’s purpose of providing readable verbiage  should some poor bloke seek to hold the ugly truth mirror up to their pretty face. Random Narrative #686   82216  © joe Linus One Legged Heart  all rights reserved