Fantastic tales: short, medium, & large; David Raffin thinks inside the box. It’s quiet there. But so dark. About/contact
*Metaphysics : Branch of philosophy dealing with first principles: abstract concepts such as being, knowing, substance, cause, identity, time, and space.
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Metaphysicist. Post-Humorist. Writer of Fantastic tales. Thinks inside the box. It's quiet there…but so dark.
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“If you were a rabbit, in, say, 1956, let’s say you would spend most of your time readjusting your rabbit ears. Why? Well. Reasons of perception, my dear. Reasons of perception.”
– Father Rabbit pontificating about the nature of time, identity, and the perception of otherness¡ but he really just talks to himself.
You could see the top of the mountain from my house from far away, until it disintegrated into the atmosphere – putting it below the tree line.
The mountain rained down like gray snow. Turning mainland into sandy beach. It blew in the air like heavy smoke. It clogged standard vacuum cleaner filters. It ran down the river and heaped into tall mounds, now covered in grass, brush, and trees, masquerading as Hills. People scooped it up into glass jars which once had held preserves in order to store it in the cellar. To rise the status of even the most humble dwelling to top of the Hill. Visitors from afar who visited thereafter would inquire what happened to the mountain. Most were surprised to hear it had been re-distributed. Now that it was gone it belonged to everyone.
What is the relationship between being the judge of a pie baking contest, and the age old tradition of hiring on a food taster for royals with low approval ratings?
“It is a shame,” said the Queen to the jester, “for in addition to alerting me to potential poison, my taster would tell me which was good and which was bad. Indeed. Even which was the best. Two things in case of Tie!”
Then the queen laughed. Because the jester did something which invoked the response. However, neither of them considered how social roles would change inevitably through Time: how that which once invoked amusement would eventually become old hat, then unintelligible. The role of the jester would change. The role of the royal taster. Even the role of the queen herself, for anyone could be a queen, if but for a day, though the Powers would not be what they were.
Hark, dear friends, a terrible fate
America ran down the sewer grate
Beavers shouted “damn!” But it was too late
They were attending a party at 10,000 a plate
“What to do?” said the otter to its mate
“Why I otter…” was the reply-but it was too late
The Dragon said, “We’ll consolidate!”
“We can own this parched landscape if we concoctitrate!”
“If anyone tries to stop us we’ll denunciate!”
“Berate. Sublimate. Keep both eyes on Homeplate. Trust in me and I will make this land again great!”
“The first thing we’ll do is seal up those drains.
So we can keep all the water when it rains.”
And the creatures sang the dragon’s grand refrains
And they praised his renowned business brains
So they sealed up those drains
And muddied those plains
And reminded that only a traitor complains
About the mixture of clean water with sewer drains
And how drinking sewage causes stomach pains
But complaints, the dragon, he disdains
For it is his golden reign.
Let it rain golden showers.
Let it rain. Let it rain.
When economic inequality reaches its zenith the rich will have to consume ever so much more to keep their economy afloat. They’ll have to buy things just to throw them away.
History is difficult to grasp in modern contexts, without references to deals, low prices, blowouts. Thank you for your quality service.
We treat our low-wage employees just like we treat our veterans. And vice versa.
This Pearl Harbor day watch for our surprise sales. Low prices rain from the sky.
As long as the financial elite can profit from global climate change nothing shall be done about it.
Yesterday an acquaintance was fired for not being social enough. Corporate America craves your false friendship. Smile.
We are not the people cowering at the arrival of the intergalactic warlords. We are the intergalactic warlords.
Come the revolution we shall stop forecasting what comes after the revolution.
I question all the proposed laws against burning or desecrating the flag. That’s bad for business; ergo it is un-American. Think of it: every flag burned is product moved. Flag burning should be encouraged. That’s good business.
Otherwise flags would have to be manufactured to wear out sooner. Or the design would have to change seasonally to encourage sales. Only a traitor waves last years flag. Displaying an old flag from the back of your pickup truck? Prepare to be pulled over and ticketed. It’s all about your safety. Security.
You’re either with us or against us. Remember, America is about shopping and turning in (on) your neighbor.
The media tells me about many things I need to buy. It seems my old toothbrush is not doing an adequate and hygienic job. There have been technological breakthroughs in the field of personal hygiene and I am being left behind. How can anyone love me; I live in the filthy world of yesterday.
Still, there is the hope of stability. We do not hope for peace, as the starry-eyed utopians, but stability—the utopia of the hard-hearted realist. War. It’s good for the economy they say; it sells American flags. They’re made in China, but still, business is business.
There has been much talk of terrorism in the last decades. I want to say this clearly so it will be well understood: Terrorism is peachy. Otherwise we would not have funded it. It’s stimulating the economy.
This country was built on terrorism. It was not for nothing our founding fathers stole and destroyed tea. It was so that we, their heirs, would be free to steal and destroy tea. Do not let anyone tell you it is not your right to steal and destroy tea! Our boys in uniform fought and died to insure that right. The stores are filled with tea. Go out and do your duty citizen! Anyone who tries to stop you is a traitor.
One principal of private property (the foundation of the Free Market) is that you have the right to slash your own tires.
They’re yours. You paid for them. How dare someone prevent you from slashing your own tires!
Friend, I will fight for your right to slash your own tires—just as I will fight for your right to burn your own flag. Remember, burning flags is good for the economy. Stimulates flag sales. Anyone who tells you otherwise is anti-business and anti-American. They are traitors.
You can either be pro-business or anti-flag burning. Logic dictates you cannot be both. Those who cannot choose are wishy-washy liberals. Which is just another word for traitor. Stand in the middle of the road long enough, buddy, and I will run you down.
I say defend your rights: Slash a tire today!
If you do not use your rights you will surely lose them. I understand you may not want to slash the tires on the car you drive to work. You shouldn’t let that stop you. Let me suggest that you slash the tires of city police or state patrol vehicles.
Do you not pay taxes? Are those not, in fact, your vehicles?
How could any politician argue otherwise? Do they not all promise to “slash government?” You are just doing your part to help. You are a patriot and you are defending your rights—as well as the rights of all Americans. Anyone who disagrees is a traitor.
Those tires are yours to give and yours to take away. If they don’t want you to slash them, perhaps they should have business pay for them instead. The businesses write the laws in this country, so they might as well write some checks for the upkeep of their government. They already give money to the politicians and parties, why not to the government? Why should they expect us to pick up the tab?
The business of government is the business of business. That is why businessmen run and control the business of government.
We hold this truth to be self evident: that the business of government shall never perish from the earth. To secure this truth, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the businesses governed. Whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of business to alter or to abolish it, and to institute a new government, laying its foundation on such principles, and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness.
The Pepsi generation is ready for a fight.
Will we leave the field scattered with paper cups and bottle-caps with “Sorry, not a winner” imprinted under them?
We may have no choice.
“No, I don’t like it,” said a monster.
“Then no one shall have it!” said another monster, who was a friend, a foul-weather friend, of the first monster. “Anyone who complains shall have their sanity questioned!”
“Hear, hear!” said the number one monster, who finally felt validated by taking pleasure away from someone else. Which is what monsters do.
A third monster was paid 200 million dollars for formulating a policy paper explaining, breathlessly, why pleasure was being, must be, withheld from a large segment of the population, and why there was nothing that segment of the population could do about it. In fact, explaining how they were lucky.
The third monster was that kind of monster.
There are many kinds of monsters. They are a lot more supportive of each other than you might assume. They have to be. To get things done.