Tuesday, July 17, 2012
More Camp Stories
Elisabeth can feel it - in the heat that won't break, in the way the other campers are looking a bit desperate at flag-raising, in the lake, unreasonably still and murky. And she knows the administration can feel it too, for the camp director’s grin has turned toothy and dark, and the early bedtimes come frantically, like a terrible precaution. The infirmary is over-capacity. Sleep-walking is at an all time high. All of the eight-year-olds besides Elisabeth have been up late, sobbing and tossing in their bunk beds, their haggard counselors unable to offer them any comfort. Elisabeth lies by quietly, listening to the restless horses and the shrieking bats. Something tragic and wonderful is coming to camp Matoaka, she writes in her journal, and we will all be its witnesses.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
She
She was the bride at the wedding, and you busted in and convinced her fiance to run away with you, because maybe you and him were high school sweethearts or co-workers who hadn't gotten a chance to say I love you until now, when you traveled across the country to get the man of your dreams and perhaps push her and her expensive dress into a pond. It's worth mentioning, though, that, while the story followed you and your finally found love out to your quirky beat-up sedan, the tears she cried in her canopy bed were as real as the ones you would have cried in your hip Manhattan loft, and, despite her short stature and mean face, the love poems she wrote for him were real and better than yours.
Sunday, July 08, 2012
Further Dispatches from the Zombie Apocolypse
By the light of your headlamp you pick off another zombie that was hammering at the barricade, and I hand you the second rifle, already loaded. With only a handful of .22s at our disposal, this was the system we came up with. The world is ending at summer camp, and you are good at shooting guns and making fires and I am good at arts and crafts.
“We are going to die,” I say.
“Yes,” you say, “we are.”
There is a momentarily lull in the conversation during which you kill more of the walking dead. Thunder rumbles.
“I never had the heart to tell you this, but I feel it is worth mentioning now,” I say, “I am in love with you. I think you are beautiful and funny and you have wonderful aim.”
You say, “pass me another rifle.”
I say, “there is no one else with whom I would rather be spending my last moments.”
You say, “I wish I was with my family.”
I say, “yes, I’m sorry, I know,” and I hand you another gun and you shoot another zombie, and I think about all the colors I could have used for your friendship bracelet.
“We are going to die,” I say.
“Yes,” you say, “we are.”
There is a momentarily lull in the conversation during which you kill more of the walking dead. Thunder rumbles.
“I never had the heart to tell you this, but I feel it is worth mentioning now,” I say, “I am in love with you. I think you are beautiful and funny and you have wonderful aim.”
You say, “pass me another rifle.”
I say, “there is no one else with whom I would rather be spending my last moments.”
You say, “I wish I was with my family.”
I say, “yes, I’m sorry, I know,” and I hand you another gun and you shoot another zombie, and I think about all the colors I could have used for your friendship bracelet.
Sunday, July 01, 2012
the best
They said, you're the best, and Jesse said, don't worry about it, it's alright, it was nice to get off-campus for a bit and I didn't have much else to do anyway.
They said, you're the best, and Jesse said, I'm really not because I've actually been preparing for this day for two years, spending hours daily building up an immunity to the gas with which I filled my car during the drive, and you will all be dead shortly and the life insurance policies will pay handsomely and this time next month I'll be getting a massage on the beach in the Caribbean and you'll all be dead.
They said, you're the best, and Jesse said, I know I am.
They said, you're the best, and Jesse said, I'm really not because I've actually been preparing for this day for two years, spending hours daily building up an immunity to the gas with which I filled my car during the drive, and you will all be dead shortly and the life insurance policies will pay handsomely and this time next month I'll be getting a massage on the beach in the Caribbean and you'll all be dead.
They said, you're the best, and Jesse said, I know I am.
Tuesday, June 05, 2012
Feels So Empty
Called PAPERCUT MIXMASTER's "most blatantly formulaic track so far," "Feels So Empty" features vocals from "Without Me" by rap artist Eminem and samples from Bitter:Sweet's "Dirty Laundry". Sources close to the artist indicate he might not have discovered these songs by watching Team Fortress 2 frag videos. NSFW lyrics.
Look for another track to drop before I leave for camp! Otherwise I have a new post below this.
Look for another track to drop before I leave for camp! Otherwise I have a new post below this.
Yup
Having some writer's block; I'm going to start updating weekly to try to get myself working. I'm also thinking of changing the blog's address to papercutmixmaster.blogspot.com, let me know what you think. My new post is below this.
On the Night Before
On the night before we had to leave, an angel visited us in the darkness. We were crying in Elizabeth's bed, see, her and myself, just holding each other and crying, and then the angel came down on a moonbeam or something and spoke to us. Your love was pure and your happiness was genuine, and you should not weep for that, it whispered, and Elizabeth said, don't you think we know that.
Monday, April 30, 2012
New Love Stories
The wedding reception was outfitted with the usual diversions –
my new wife was a very wealthy woman
thanks to a late father who had made his money
selling explosives and machine-guns to warlords in central Africa
so that they could paralyze more children with landmines –
And so for us that meant an open bar and a fancy Hollywood DJ.
I was not bothered by her shrill friends,
Or the vows she wrote herself which took an hour to read.
That night we took the jet to her villa outside of Paris
And slow danced to soft jazz music
on the balcony off the master bedroom.
Darling, she purred,
Her breath hot and smelling of expensive wine,
I’m so happy.
And I said, I am too, and
we danced closer to the railing.
my new wife was a very wealthy woman
thanks to a late father who had made his money
selling explosives and machine-guns to warlords in central Africa
so that they could paralyze more children with landmines –
And so for us that meant an open bar and a fancy Hollywood DJ.
I was not bothered by her shrill friends,
Or the vows she wrote herself which took an hour to read.
That night we took the jet to her villa outside of Paris
And slow danced to soft jazz music
on the balcony off the master bedroom.
Darling, she purred,
Her breath hot and smelling of expensive wine,
I’m so happy.
And I said, I am too, and
we danced closer to the railing.
Sunday, April 08, 2012
Z
Inspired by the work of Alexey Pajitnov.
****
This is the end.
You sowed the seeds of your own destruction
even as you left the last column free.
I watched you squirrel those boxes away in the corner
on top of the T-blocks,
assuring yourself, perhaps, that you’d deal
with those tiny gaps later,
when you had more time,
more space,
and a few more points under your belt.
The line piece you were waiting for, though, has come and gone
and now here I am, staring down at a jagged
and desperate landscape where I don’t belong.
Were you satisfied, clearing four lines
to leave nothing but a fourteen-story tower
built of rotted concrete?
Were the points worth this immovable tribute
to short-sightedness?
I have no regrets, friend.
I only hope you can say the same.
****
This is the end.
You sowed the seeds of your own destruction
even as you left the last column free.
I watched you squirrel those boxes away in the corner
on top of the T-blocks,
assuring yourself, perhaps, that you’d deal
with those tiny gaps later,
when you had more time,
more space,
and a few more points under your belt.
The line piece you were waiting for, though, has come and gone
and now here I am, staring down at a jagged
and desperate landscape where I don’t belong.
Were you satisfied, clearing four lines
to leave nothing but a fourteen-story tower
built of rotted concrete?
Were the points worth this immovable tribute
to short-sightedness?
I have no regrets, friend.
I only hope you can say the same.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Do-Overs
"Do-Overs" is mash-up artist and Brad Pitt look-a-like PAPERCUT MIXMASTER's second single off of his mixtape The Wuggie Norple Story. Samples include Steely Dan, Caro Emerald, and the U.S. Naval Drum Corp. Upon the track's release, one of the artist's many fans was reported to have raved "well if you're done then will you please take the garbage out like I asked you this afternoon."
Thursday, March 15, 2012
The Inheritance
On Sunday I left the milk out. By accident, I mean.
I just forgot to put it away
after I finished watching TV.
But when I picked it up on Monday it was still cold,
Like I had just taken it out of the fridge.
Something has been breaking down around here, man,
And I can’t put my finger on it except to say
I have powers.
The holes in my shirts have been fixing themselves overnight.
My cereal turned into gasoline. I think I can control mosquitoes.
Today is Thursday, and the milk is on the counter,
Still sweating it out, still just, you know, just chilling.
So I pick it up and drink it, straight from the carton.
It just feels right. And the taste is fresh and rich
And so, so cold,
with a flavor like I’ll never get another sunburn,
like maybe I could turn one of my hands invisible,
and like I could learn to fly
for a few minutes at a times, at least.
I just forgot to put it away
after I finished watching TV.
But when I picked it up on Monday it was still cold,
Like I had just taken it out of the fridge.
Something has been breaking down around here, man,
And I can’t put my finger on it except to say
I have powers.
The holes in my shirts have been fixing themselves overnight.
My cereal turned into gasoline. I think I can control mosquitoes.
Today is Thursday, and the milk is on the counter,
Still sweating it out, still just, you know, just chilling.
So I pick it up and drink it, straight from the carton.
It just feels right. And the taste is fresh and rich
And so, so cold,
with a flavor like I’ll never get another sunburn,
like maybe I could turn one of my hands invisible,
and like I could learn to fly
for a few minutes at a times, at least.
Monday, March 05, 2012
Barton Fortsworth, 20, on the lecture he attended with his roommate while under the influence of salvia
Not based on a true story.
****
We were going to class,
See. My roommate and I. This long lecture class.
Two hours. Ethnomusicology.
And so I say to Jesse. That’s my roommate. Jesse. I say
let’s smoke a bowl in the facilities closet
right beforehand. And he says, yeah, okay.
And so we do, except apparently my dealer mixed up his stuff
Because we smoked salvia. That’s not illegal I learned,
But I wouldn’t recommend it for pregaming a class with.
Shortly after we got to the room I was a book.
People just stared at me. No one said a word.
I was certain they were reading me because
My torso had split open and there was a story there.
Jesse told me that it was raining long diagonal lines and
He was falling down them, but I don’t remember that at all.
My vision stopped vibrating in the bathroom.
I had stumbled out just after class had started,
Pausing only for a second to put on my jacket
That I sewed deftly of the quilted walls.
As I wandered back I realized I no longer feared death
Which worked out because Jesse was certainly going to kill me.
****
We were going to class,
See. My roommate and I. This long lecture class.
Two hours. Ethnomusicology.
And so I say to Jesse. That’s my roommate. Jesse. I say
let’s smoke a bowl in the facilities closet
right beforehand. And he says, yeah, okay.
And so we do, except apparently my dealer mixed up his stuff
Because we smoked salvia. That’s not illegal I learned,
But I wouldn’t recommend it for pregaming a class with.
Shortly after we got to the room I was a book.
People just stared at me. No one said a word.
I was certain they were reading me because
My torso had split open and there was a story there.
Jesse told me that it was raining long diagonal lines and
He was falling down them, but I don’t remember that at all.
My vision stopped vibrating in the bathroom.
I had stumbled out just after class had started,
Pausing only for a second to put on my jacket
That I sewed deftly of the quilted walls.
As I wandered back I realized I no longer feared death
Which worked out because Jesse was certainly going to kill me.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
1902
Off of PAPERCUT MIXMASTER's groundbreaking new mixtape "The Wuggie Norple Story", 1902 blends Pheonix's vocals with acoustic samples and crunchy drums for a unique track critics have been hailing as "song-like mostly" and "pretty alright".
Friday, February 10, 2012
Brian Duncard, Flyin' Drunkard
This needs revision but I'm trying to post more, you may see a better version of it soon.
****
I'd like to tell a story that I hope you'll think is cool
About a friend named Brian that I met while back in school.
See Brian had a little quirk I bet will get you thinking,
For it would only manifest itself while he was drinking.
When normal people drink, they mostly wake up in a bed,
But Brian always woke up in quite strange locales instead.
He'd wake up in hotel rooms, he'd wake up in a fountain,
He once awoke to find himself on a gigantic mountain.
And Brian never could recall how he would get these places.
Instead of normal memories, he'd only have blank spaces.
Until one Friday night he walked right up to me and said,
"Tonight we should find out why I don't wake up in my bed!"
We watched a movie and he had a beer or seventeen.
And just about at midnight - well, I thought it was a dream -
I couldn't comprehend just what it was I was discovering.
I looked at Brian Duncard and I saw that he was hovering.
When the next morning came I didn't know quite what to do.
He came down from the roof and still he didn't have a clue.
I sat him down and said to him, "now listen closely, Brian,
The fact is when you'd drank enough, you up and started flyin'"
He thought at first what I had said was pure misinformation,
But soon he came to see there was no other explanation.
He stood up from his chair and left my dorm room in a daze,
But not before he grabbed a can of beer while on his way.
And he did not return that night; he'd left the school right then.
It wasn't 'til years later that I saw that man again.
I was on the night shift at the clinic just last week,
When Brian Duncard came in looking haggard, sick, and meek.
I walked to him and cried out, "What has happened, my old friend?"
He winked and said, "I'm fairly certain this could be the end,
And though I don't remember much, I'm certain this is true:
You wouldn't mourn me if you saw the places that I flew."
****
I'd like to tell a story that I hope you'll think is cool
About a friend named Brian that I met while back in school.
See Brian had a little quirk I bet will get you thinking,
For it would only manifest itself while he was drinking.
When normal people drink, they mostly wake up in a bed,
But Brian always woke up in quite strange locales instead.
He'd wake up in hotel rooms, he'd wake up in a fountain,
He once awoke to find himself on a gigantic mountain.
And Brian never could recall how he would get these places.
Instead of normal memories, he'd only have blank spaces.
Until one Friday night he walked right up to me and said,
"Tonight we should find out why I don't wake up in my bed!"
We watched a movie and he had a beer or seventeen.
And just about at midnight - well, I thought it was a dream -
I couldn't comprehend just what it was I was discovering.
I looked at Brian Duncard and I saw that he was hovering.
When the next morning came I didn't know quite what to do.
He came down from the roof and still he didn't have a clue.
I sat him down and said to him, "now listen closely, Brian,
The fact is when you'd drank enough, you up and started flyin'"
He thought at first what I had said was pure misinformation,
But soon he came to see there was no other explanation.
He stood up from his chair and left my dorm room in a daze,
But not before he grabbed a can of beer while on his way.
And he did not return that night; he'd left the school right then.
It wasn't 'til years later that I saw that man again.
I was on the night shift at the clinic just last week,
When Brian Duncard came in looking haggard, sick, and meek.
I walked to him and cried out, "What has happened, my old friend?"
He winked and said, "I'm fairly certain this could be the end,
And though I don't remember much, I'm certain this is true:
You wouldn't mourn me if you saw the places that I flew."
Tuesday, February 07, 2012
Singles' Night
BILL, just shy of 50, dances with LINDA at singles' night. They rock awkwardly back and forth for a while. LINDA has her eyes closed. BILL stares vacantly into the space behind her.
BILL
This is my first time at one of these things.
LINDA
What?
BILL
Yep, it’s true.
LINDA
No, I mean. I didn’t hear you.
BILL
Oh. I said. This is my first time at one of these things. You know. Singles night. I saw it driving home from work, and I thought. What the heck. Singles night.
LINDA
Yeah. It’s. I have a good time.
BILL
Have you been to one before?
LINDA
A couple times I guess. I try to go like. Once a month or whatever.
BILL
Oh, sure.
A pause. They keep dancing.
LINDA
I’m new to the area, see. I moved hear about a year ago.
BILL
Oh?
LINDA
Yeah, and I just. I don’t know many people so I started coming, and it’s. You know. It’s fun.
BILL
Yeah. It’s fun.
LINDA
Yeah.
A pause.
BILL
What do you do? For, like, employment.
LINDA
I’m a lawyer. A criminal defense lawyer.
A pause. They continue dancing.
BILL
And you. You didn’t grow up around here? You just moved here?
LINDA
I’m from Philly.
BILL
Really? Yeah, I think I have some cousins in, like, uh, Ardmore? Is that nearby?
LINDA
Yeah. Well I mean I say I’m from Philly but I’m not, like, from the city. I’m from the suburbs, the. The Main Line, it’s called. I live in Radnor. Ardmore is right down the street.
BILL
Why’d you move up here?
LINDA
I was working for a big firm in the city and they wanted me in one of their satellite offices in Albany.
BILL
Oh, sure. That makes sense.
LINDA
Yeah. What about you? Are you from around here?
BILL
Yeah, I’m from Poughkeepsie. I was working in Seattle after school, you know. Writing user manuals for a tech company out there, but then. Well. My dad wasn’t doing too great or whatever after my mom passed away so I moved back here.
LINDA
Are you employed in the area now?
BILL
Yeah, I work for General Electric. GE Appliances. That’s part of the reason I came, because. Because I work with mostly men, and I thought. You know, I have my poker buddies or whatever but it’s nice- (trails off)
LINDA
To know women?
BILL
Yeah. I guess.
A pause.
LINDA
And you write manuals at GE too?
BILL
Yeah, manuals. It’s. It’s okay work. I like that it’s, you know, pretty cut and dry for me. Because I know how to use the stuff and I just, I. I explain it.
A pause.
BILL
Because you go through life solving problems, right? It’s nice that I can. You know. It’s nice that I can think that I’m helping people solve a few of them. Even if it is, just. With their refrigerator. Like I mean how you help people stay out of jail. That’s.
A pause.
BILL (half trying to laugh)
That’s a lot bigger, I guess.
A pause.
LINDA
But what you do is pretty important too.
BILL
I mean, sure. Yeah.
LINDA
Because. Because people pay me to keep them out of jail, you know. But you get paid to. You help people help themselves.
BILL (sort of weakly)
Ha, yeah, I guess.
LINDA
No, I think. I think really. We need more user manuals, you know? For life. For. For making friends or whatever. For more than, you know. Refrigerators.
BILL
Yeah.
A short beat.
BILL
Yeah. That’d be funny, if we had a. A user manual for life.
LINDA
I’d buy it, though.
BILL
Me too. Who wouldn’t?
Another beat.
LINDA
You can put your arms around my waist if you want.
BILL (flustered)
What. Oh. Yeah oh. I mean. Sure.
LINDA
It’s just because. I only said that because it would have been in the manual.
BILL
What?
LINDA
The life. The user manual for life. For dancing with a girl, it would say- I mean you said you would have bought it so I just figured I’d let you know. It would say, you can put your hands around her waist.
BILL
Oh. Well, thanks.
BILL slips his arms down around LINDA’s waist. They dance a little closer as the lights fade.
BILL
This is my first time at one of these things.
LINDA
What?
BILL
Yep, it’s true.
LINDA
No, I mean. I didn’t hear you.
BILL
Oh. I said. This is my first time at one of these things. You know. Singles night. I saw it driving home from work, and I thought. What the heck. Singles night.
LINDA
Yeah. It’s. I have a good time.
BILL
Have you been to one before?
LINDA
A couple times I guess. I try to go like. Once a month or whatever.
BILL
Oh, sure.
A pause. They keep dancing.
LINDA
I’m new to the area, see. I moved hear about a year ago.
BILL
Oh?
LINDA
Yeah, and I just. I don’t know many people so I started coming, and it’s. You know. It’s fun.
BILL
Yeah. It’s fun.
LINDA
Yeah.
A pause.
BILL
What do you do? For, like, employment.
LINDA
I’m a lawyer. A criminal defense lawyer.
A pause. They continue dancing.
BILL
And you. You didn’t grow up around here? You just moved here?
LINDA
I’m from Philly.
BILL
Really? Yeah, I think I have some cousins in, like, uh, Ardmore? Is that nearby?
LINDA
Yeah. Well I mean I say I’m from Philly but I’m not, like, from the city. I’m from the suburbs, the. The Main Line, it’s called. I live in Radnor. Ardmore is right down the street.
BILL
Why’d you move up here?
LINDA
I was working for a big firm in the city and they wanted me in one of their satellite offices in Albany.
BILL
Oh, sure. That makes sense.
LINDA
Yeah. What about you? Are you from around here?
BILL
Yeah, I’m from Poughkeepsie. I was working in Seattle after school, you know. Writing user manuals for a tech company out there, but then. Well. My dad wasn’t doing too great or whatever after my mom passed away so I moved back here.
LINDA
Are you employed in the area now?
BILL
Yeah, I work for General Electric. GE Appliances. That’s part of the reason I came, because. Because I work with mostly men, and I thought. You know, I have my poker buddies or whatever but it’s nice- (trails off)
LINDA
To know women?
BILL
Yeah. I guess.
A pause.
LINDA
And you write manuals at GE too?
BILL
Yeah, manuals. It’s. It’s okay work. I like that it’s, you know, pretty cut and dry for me. Because I know how to use the stuff and I just, I. I explain it.
A pause.
BILL
Because you go through life solving problems, right? It’s nice that I can. You know. It’s nice that I can think that I’m helping people solve a few of them. Even if it is, just. With their refrigerator. Like I mean how you help people stay out of jail. That’s.
A pause.
BILL (half trying to laugh)
That’s a lot bigger, I guess.
A pause.
LINDA
But what you do is pretty important too.
BILL
I mean, sure. Yeah.
LINDA
Because. Because people pay me to keep them out of jail, you know. But you get paid to. You help people help themselves.
BILL (sort of weakly)
Ha, yeah, I guess.
LINDA
No, I think. I think really. We need more user manuals, you know? For life. For. For making friends or whatever. For more than, you know. Refrigerators.
BILL
Yeah.
A short beat.
BILL
Yeah. That’d be funny, if we had a. A user manual for life.
LINDA
I’d buy it, though.
BILL
Me too. Who wouldn’t?
Another beat.
LINDA
You can put your arms around my waist if you want.
BILL (flustered)
What. Oh. Yeah oh. I mean. Sure.
LINDA
It’s just because. I only said that because it would have been in the manual.
BILL
What?
LINDA
The life. The user manual for life. For dancing with a girl, it would say- I mean you said you would have bought it so I just figured I’d let you know. It would say, you can put your hands around her waist.
BILL
Oh. Well, thanks.
BILL slips his arms down around LINDA’s waist. They dance a little closer as the lights fade.
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