fun!

You only live once. People who say such thing often have lots of fun; they take photos of themselves on beaches, long drink in hand, encircled by friends. Such people have catalogs of photos on the worldwideweb documenting their funness. The degree of fun is measured by the number of thumbs-up assigned to such fun-photos by like-minded fun-lovers. The ultimate FUN has not yet been identified. The fun-Holy-Grail. The fun-Chalice. The fun at the core of the human spirit. It has yet to be identified, photographed and LIKED. You only live once, so you better start before it’s too
late. Be sure to keep a good record. When you are dead, it will be an important measure of your life’s value. Do no miss a toe-studded sunset in Tahiti; do not – for the love of God – miss your bucket-list parachute jump, your face contorted into grimaces of fun unachievable on land. Let this be your mission. Your Chalice. Your inner-spearhead. All the world is organized, and all infrastructure set-up for you to excel  in your quest. 4G electromagnetic networks are spread far and wide to keep your photographic record at the fingertips of fun-lovers worldwide. Enemies of your fun are kept at bay by armies convinced by elaborate subterfuge that without their presence in foreign lands it would be impossible for you to conduct your fun in peace. You are offered rationales for their activities that permit you to resume your fun-seeking without compunction. Drugs are “illegal” but widely available for your amusement. It is fun and important to have fun. The media has been carefully organized into a neat package of owners for your convenience.  This serves to centralize your experience and keep from your magnificent and important field of attention anything that might distract you from your mission. The stage is arranged for you.  All we ask is that you pursue funness in this one life you have, and not ask too many questions. If you think asking questions is fun, we will bring the right ones to your attention and you can LIKE them.

Lui Antun Labas

Remember me,

5’3”,

Chipped tooth,

Traveler by night,

Seeker of truth.

Unseen of late,

But in spirit

Near.

Top of temple, 

Left ear.

Don’t you remember,

Back in September?

That was me,

Antun Lui

romance rudiments

Stars overhead, leaves rustling, candles, wine, all that shit that comes with romance. We had that. We had a blanket too and some food for the morning in case matters evolved and we didn’t make it home.

All of the above is not absolutely necessary for romance, but you definitely need bodies. You need two. Add more and there is no romance. You just need two bodies. In my case, hers was type female; mine was type male. The differences between these are not just physiological; there are emotional differences too, and not mere discrepancies, big hollering differences. But that’s another subject altogether, not à propos right this minute. You would do well, by the way, not to explore these differences in the middle of romance. In fact, generally speaking, try to keep your mouth shut. Words aren't a key ingredient. 

Now. Contrary to what you may believe, setting is not crucial. You can pick an outcrop overhanging a moonlit bay, or a picturesque little bridge in the south of France. Don’t waste your time. Under the right circumstances, the side of the road works too: your car breaks down, it’s a bit cold, you get close, you snuggle... you follow? You don’t need bays and picturesque bridges. Stick to the rudiments: some stars, some rustling leaves, maybe a candle. But strictly speaking, you just need two bodies. The rest is whatever exists between you. And that can be little or infinite.

photon-misanthrope

I am a photon off a breasty woman. I am one among quadrillions. I do not claim to be special or unique, but I will tell you that I have no patience for grunting Neanderthals of your kind. I do not like the look of you and I do like what you do, but it happens I am part of something bigger than myself, so I do as I am told, I do my job, and that is to bring you the information, whatever it is, you slobbering lech.

Let’s get on with it.

I go from A to B  at 299,792,458 meters per second. Always. Without fail. Except under very exceptional circumstances: in a vacuum at near zero Kelvin, or under the sway of a vast gravitational force, the kind of force a middling mind such as yours cannot fathom, and one that you will never experience either, certainly not in your current Ken-doll incarnation.  

Right now I’m slap in the middle of your cornea -  that see-through cup you scratched years ago dicking around with that toothpick.  Your new-ager friends will probably conceive that I cross this barriers, “walk through walls”, whatever. I do no such thing. We part ways here, you fool. Your cornea will emit a photon of its own and pass on the baton, so to speak. My work is done, but I will continue in the first person, so as not to confuse you.

Where was I?  

I’m way down the track now, past your aqueous humor - through all that gelatin - through your lens, and as we speak I’m hitting your retina, big guy.  

Sit still. I’ve done this many times. This is how it’s done. And I’m not alone, by the way. I describe it as a one-man-show for your personal edification. In fact we’re plowing into you en masse, a trillion brethren in a terrifying hail of photons. You’re under constant assault, man.

Once the retina’s hit, what happens then is a mystery. We are reconfigured, realigned, rejigged, use whatever term you like -  I will read it in your “peer reviewed papers” -  and we are sent willy-nilly down the optic nerve as an electrical current.

Suddenly, BANG, she  appears like a hologram “before your eyes”. You experience a shudder, glands press out hormones all over the place and blood rushes down your body to collect in that pendulous sack you are always fondling.

Oh, you poor slobs.

Only moments ago I was journeying towards you in blissful serenity. Next thing I know I’m plunged into fleshy mass, deep inside a heaving Neanderthal. For what?

Look, I don’t question your ways, I don’t care, I do my job, but I will say one thing: what I appreciate above all is efficiency and straightforwardness, so when you’re all done down there please take a moment to consider if there isn’t a more direct method of observation. If at all possible, extract me from the equation. I have not been schooled in the precise operations of our kind, but common sense tells me there must be a less circuitous way! And a more precise way. Having come from “her” - the object of your fascination - let me tell you, you big thumping Neanderthal, what I saw on that screen in the back of you head was not “her” at all, but something else entirely.

Anyway, it’s your party. Grunt away maestro.

sisters and brothers

On this day, your day of birth, you are zero and have no life. I do not mean this ironically. It’s just numbers. You have not lived a day and thus you have no life. Others around you have lived, but this does not make them superior. On the contrary, they look at you with hope and wonder, convinced you will not fuck up as they have. For this reason and this reason alone - at this particular point in history - you are superior.

Do not let it get to your head, though, little man. It’s just the current state of their thinking. Your whole life will be about what you think and what other people think, not what is. You think you have entered a world of things; you have not. You have entered a world of opinions and considerations.

Welcome

Case in point: the big tall guy, a gentleman in all outward appearance, is in his mind a cripple, barely kept up by a matrix of internalized excuses and justifications. Look at his eye, there you will see a dull flicker. You see that? You don’t want that. That’s your dad. Nice guy, but you don’t want that.

That small dude opposite, that’s your brother. He will show you the ropes. He’s a mischievous little rascal with a weird sense of humor, but his heart’s in the right place. He will always mean you well. Follow him. One day, you will wake up, your throat tied in a knot, your insides near collapse, and your mind scattered to the wind. He will be there. He will hold you up. Follow him.

But do not concern yourself with this now. For the time being you will get acquainted with the basics: light, color, touch, smell and such things, and this will be more than you can handle. Plus you will be assaulted with needs that were hitherto addressed through automaticities. Those days are over amigo. You will need to speak your mind now. Start exercising your vocal cords. Do not be shy or your needs will not be met. For this you will mostly be dealing with her. You cannot see her because you are a lying on top of her, but that is your mother. No further comment. I’ll let you discover her on your own.

As for me -  a final word -  I too look at you with hope and wonder, but with one difference: I know you will fuck up. And when you do - let me tell you this now in case I forget later - you can count on me, little brother.

I am your older sister. Welcome home.

type 6 Homo sapiens: the perfect being

type 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 

You are in your thirties. You traveled the globe. You bungee jumped. You studied abroad. You are well educated. You are a professional and your prospects are good. You know how to enjoy yourself and you are considered good company. To all outward appearances you are an accomplished and sociable individual. Not just to outward appearances, you are accomplished and you are sociable. You are the type of human being many would like to be: fun, enthusiastic, traveled, smart but not burdensomely.

Plus you have a keen sense of style and you go out of your way to find just that item, that purse, that necklace, that thing that looks good with this, this and that, and you wear those things in the right manner, that is to say, you do not overdress, you do not underdress, you dress just right. You are entirely balanced. You are the type of human being everyone dreams of being. You have that mix of humility and outgoingness that everyone desires. What more could you possibly desire? You have this human being shit down to perfection. You do not err. You do not dwell on dull or ponderous subjects, you do not touch on matters that may offend, dismay or put someone on the spot. This makes you highly appreciated. You have no enemies. You are kind and gentle. What more do you want? You are perfect. You are the kind of human being every human being wants to be and should be. There should be no other type of human being. You are it. There should be no departure from your sense of humility and outgoingness and festiveness, your non-confrontational style. Things would be fun. Life would be fun. There would be no wars. You are someone people admire. You are a standard. No one ever doubts your intentions are good. You are intentions are good. You are in many ways a perfect being. The perfect being. You radiate this perfection. You traveled the globe. You studied abroad. You bungee jumped.  You have that mix of humility and outgoingness that everyone desires.

What are your thoughts?

2014

We are a pinpoint  in an expanse that is a hundred thousand light-years wide. It is only an expanse because it is studded with stars we can see, but beyond these stars there is so much more space it numbs the mind.

This year, as every year, we orbited one star. Just once.

What you have done (or not done) during this period probably means a lot to you. Perhaps you are pondering this right now. Perhaps you have done nothing else but ponder this for days. Perhaps you are saying to yourself that you should have done more, lived more, loved more, spoken your heart, reached out to her or to him, broken some habits and started new ones, and so on and so on. Or perhaps you are sitting back in the satisfaction of a job well done;  or you are a list-maker and you are not interested in looking back at all, only in itemizing what is yet to come.

Most likely, though, you are not perplexed at the fact that you are a four-limbed creature with limited electromagnetic perception, fully dependent on an organic pump circulating five or so liters of blood;  and you are not pounded with anxiety at the terrifying vastness of space.

You’re not. Because life is much more interesting than any of that.

Because your inner world is much more interesting than any of that. It is bigger than any terrifying vastness. No measure can circumscribe it. No one thought can encapsulate it. Your ideas can be boundless or they can fit on the head of a pin. Any limitation, any boundary is your own, placed there by your own hand, kept there by your own hand.

Just our luck then, for the hand that puts up walls can also remove them.  

I wish you all a year of greatness and wonder, where your inner world is lit up far and wide, and your outer world reflects it with all the light and beauty life has to offer.

Lui Labas