150 Life Is A Fiction

150 Life Is A Fiction
As a matter of form, we usually write these posts from the perspective of a collective “we” so you know you’re hearing from both of us. But it’s just Skullard this week. And every week. There never was a “we” as it turns out. The elaborate, self-sustaining psychological construction that we all (that’s you plus me) came to accept as “Luka” let me know this week that she was merely a figment that I made up. This, of course, rocks the very foundations of my concepts of reality, mental health and why I need two bedrooms. A few points that it brings up: 1. Damn, I’m good! I had me completely fooled. You too, I’ll bet, unless of course you’re yet another though easier to maintain mental myth in which case you probably knew but played along because you didn’t want to blow the whole story because once you did your own non-existence would be exposed and therefore you’d no longer exist and no one would intentionally destroy themselves like that especially if they had plans for the weekend. 2. I’m eating way too many groceries. 3. The fact that I’m alone yet not lonely suggests that the human spirit can adapt to and overcome isolation, albeit I had to take a long drive through Nutsoville in order to do it. 4. I guess I can leave the seat up now. 5. Insanity doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It can be embraced, or in my case, married. It turns out that Luka is my “crazy”. It also turns out that knowing that doesn’t change my life all that much.

What can be said about Tommy Wiseau’s 2003 opus The Room? The less the better according to those who don’t enjoy high schlock and sticking pins in their eyes. But a film of this caliber should really speak for itself. Preferably doing so in some strange, unidentifiable European garble.

Here is just a quick (!) run-through of the women we/I saw competing for a place on the 2015 Minnesota Vikings Cheerleading Team. You really have to hand it to these people for the way they were able to overcome all their severe and horrific physical impairments and somehow find the courage to smile while they danced. (Look out for #31 or “Crimpy Hair”. She is Luka’s/my favorite.)

Since we’re doing everything to make sense this week, here’s an educational short that features protests, traffic accidents, old ladies knitting, a monkey, people kissing, an angry baby, women pounding nails into boards, birds flying, kids each pies, a parade and a pig scratching himself with a stick. You know, your basic pacifist propaganda.

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: May I present The OTHER Room. Welcome to the “Del-Ray Motel – 2 miles West of city on Rt. 40, Indianapolis 19, Indiana. Hot water, T.V., phone, fan every room. Friendly people. ‘Night or Day – Stay Del-Ray’.” The corpulent manager-type guy who is presenting the fine Del-Ray accommodations couldn’t be prouder of his offerings than Tommy Wiseau himself. And why not? Hot water in every single room? Imagine! And a goddamn fan to cool and dry you off afterward. Those friendly people of Indianapolis 19 sure know how to treat a fella.
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