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Monday, March 07, 2005

My 'Net Worth Increases

Last Friday night, I was sitting in front of the TV letting the narcotizing effect of cathode ray help me readjust after a surreal day, when I heard the chime come from the PC indicating that an email had arrived.

Being a compulsive consumer of mail both electronic and postal, I got up to see what it was. It turned out to be from one of the webmasters of The Firesign Theatre website. He was seeking to link to this here Blog in order to give the folks on their mailing list (some 1300) the chance to inflict my tale of going west on themselves.

In reply, I offered him the manuscript of the entire thing if he wanted it. He did. As a result, I am now represented on the web not only by this Blog, but also by this tiny corner of the Firesign website.

What does all this mean? Probably not much, although it is nice to get published by somebody who isn’t me.

13 comments:

Robert G. Margolis said...

Leonard J.,

Not having any new material for today, I here rebroadcast my earlier congratulations on your increase in publick. As I said (or something like it), it's only a matter of links before you link to the "missing link" of success. Your episodic ghostly touring tale, with all its afterimages and near death or pre-death experiences, as well as its references to Everyman classics of adventure, is an excellent imaginary complement to what actually happened but was not reported.

One scene I like in particular, is the half-a-sandwich fight between old friends, collaborators, and touring parnters Phil Proctor and Peter Bergman. You wrote a mouthful with that one!

Also, if I'd known this link was going more publick, I would have sprinkled Firesign Theatre references through out the improvised counter-tale that partially accompanies--some might say, ghosts your own tale-told-on-a-budget.

Guess I'll just have to wait, wraith-like, for the next Tour.

Now, please excuse me while I kiss the sky.

Len said...

Robert G.,

It's always easier for me to write that which never happened than that which did. I had thought to send that article out, but I had no idea where. When a final resting place presented itself with no work on my part, I took the opportunity.

As far as "the missing linque" (nee Curlycue Linque, if I remember) goes, all I can say is, "From your keyboard to God's inbox." There have been some strange doings on the day-job front, and I'd rather move next into some line of work that has something to do with me being me rather than more jail time in the cubicular world.

Wait a minute. Was that an auto-reply from the heavenly email account? Uh-oh.

Robert G. Margolis said...

Len-ji,

Chuang Tzu is proud of you and the wu-wei you acted through non-action!
I say: wei to go (without going, of course)!

I do hope that, if and when imagination's ghostly presence is upon you, you will compose the adventure story's tenth and final chapter--the number ten being signified by an "X" in Roman numerals, and the "X" being a kind of cross-in-motion, which, in the turn of its motion, describes the circle of infinite perfection, and which too can also be 'rounded off', top and bottom, to itself become the sign for infinity.

So, you see, Len, you can get there from here, while possessing, though perhaps still unbeknownst to you, the "missing link" to do so.

Len said...

Robert-san,

Well, you know what they say. "Even a journey of a thousand li begins by standing in someone else's moccasins." Or something like that.

I will round it off at some point--with any luch, soon--and maybe I'll try to make a reference to Paul Harvey in the title, since it will "the rest of the story."

Nine, of course, is the number of death and rebirth (or birth and redeath as it frequently comes out of my cluttered mind). Ten is the new beginning. By the way, I changed the last sentence on the version that appears here. Do you think anybody noticed? Not me, that's for sure!

Robert G. Margolis said...

Len-dai,

That 'journey' line, a worthy reminder to those who would butter their horses and then change them in midstream, is further evidence of why I am convinced your latest brush with "birth and redeath" (also a good one!) has only brought you nearer to what continues to elude you. And by there I mean here, of course.

Yes, as it happens, I did notice the changed last line about home. It's got that number 9 feel of portending a new beginning, of a renewal, based on completion and a return. But "the rest of the story", in X marks the Chapter, and the missing "page two" of that story, and how our hero wasn't truly "home" until he remembered how he got home--that story must be told, Len, even if it didn't happen and Penelope has to remember it for you. After all, you don't want to develop an Odysseus complex...

Anonymous said...

Get outta my wei, I'm off to Calistoga Spa for redeathing therapy.

Admiral Halsasssy

Anonymous said...

Get outta my wei, I'm off to Calistoga Spa for redeathing therapy.

Admiral Halsasssy

Len said...

Boy, you gotta carry that wu-weight a long time. And just remember, that while at the spa for redeathing, if a bell tolls, it may toll for thee. Or someone else. It depends on who is getting the cucumber mask next.

Mr. X

PS. I would never let the whole family ride in a baloon at the same time because it is a bad idea to put all your X in one basket.

Robert G. Margolis said...

Len X,

You probably don't know this (and how could you?--it's not true), but fellow exile and quester Odysseus and I used to be spa-ing partners. No, really, I am kidding. A whirl in the pool at Charybdis Whirled ("Where Whirl Is King") was so soothing and relaxing after a day of work on board Myth-In-A-Box, where we packaged things too true to be good (like, you may remember, those mountain running shoes "Air Ostaphanes", endorsed by a former Olympian athlete who'd been disgraced because of his connections with the Underworld). And--ah, happily, you don't have to endure any more of this last gasp of a dying joke. Yes, you've been saved by the knell!

Len said...

I don't know, Robert. It's all Greek to me.

Robert G. Margolis said...

It is to me too, Len. I only got my version of the story from an English overdub version with subtitles. And even then the audio was not in sync with the video, nor the subtitles in sync with the story, so I'm not certain of who did what with whom when, why, or where. If I remember correctly, the Everyman Classics version has it that Odysseus was sued, as a 'deadbeat dad', for not paying alimony and childsupport. This is not to be mistaken for the Woody Guthrie version in which Odysseus started out as a dirt poor migrant worker who, because of his natural gift of speaking eloquence, quickly became a demogogue on the then newish mendium of radio (his weekly show was, I think, called: "Gog and Demo Gogue"). Woody mysteriously caused the death of this Odysseus when he aimed his battered 'ol hard travelin' guitar at him and played a single mysterious chord that no one's been able to reproduce to this day.

...Anyway, I hope this helps to clear up any lingering clarity about how you got home.

Len said...

I remember the English overdub version with Steve Reeves ("He's got muscles in his ears") and Overdub Taylor. If I recall, Steve tries join the Oddysseus Fellows, but a man named Jo-Jo tells him to get back to where he once belonged. And before you can say "the Dardenelles is the Hellespont," he's up in the Attica sorting through his memories.

It's been a long time since I've seen it, though.

Robert G. Margolis said...

Len,

It seems your memory, as to how you got home, is returning nicely. The English overdub version to which you refer is different from the one to which I refer; it's very rare and rarely, if ever, seen anymore. I have never seen it, and, as member of the Odysseus Club of Troubletown, I have seen most of the obscure and little known versions.

I forget to say above that despite his skill in wielding the mystery chord of doom against his rivals and would-be usurpers, Woody didn't get the girl. Penelope married someone else. Strange to say, as it happened, his name too was Odysseus.

And, the Odysseus the 'deadbeat dad' version, thought it was made in the black and white '50's, it was a little a head of its time, in that it has a nowadays comedy sitcom feel to it. In this version, Penelope tells Odysseus to go out and get some milk at the corner store. Ten years later, Odysseus returns--and he's forgotten the milk...again!