files of the stalker: i accidently kick my prided hand winch...

I'm always staring at how the locks are on the wrong side of the door, its obvious that, unlike most locks that keep things out, this  is meant to keep things in. the dead bolt latch clacks loudly, I barely notice it as I swing the door open wide and make my way down the descending staircase. 

I tug at the string which sends the overhead lamp swinging as I enter my unusually large space. The alley I call it, long with surprisingly high ceilings for a basement.

I hurry, almost skipping to the end of the room giddy, joyous even; fabric tight in my hands. I spread red's panties out wide between my fingers as I admire them, cherish them. Getting into the house was easier than following red around.

I look around the wall, and its full of her shots. I have to take something down to make room for the new shots. I pace backward toward my arm chair, falling into it and I kick my legs up. The photo shoot, dancing, horseback riding, base jumping, sleeping. I walk up to examine the sleeping shots. I was proud that she was captured in this photo unnoticed, although from a great distance. Now that she has been so close, these pictures are simply not of the same caliber as the others.

Setting the sleeping photos carefully aside I reach for the newest set of photos in my back pocket: empty. I aggressively pat myself down and start looking across the alley to see where its dropped. I bolt across the room scanning, up the stairs and back outside, nothing. 

Back inside the alley I franticly scour the floor, moving aside neatly stacked boxes knowing full well that it could not have fallen behind any of them. Each box clearly labeled: Blindfolds; Body bags; Collars; Garrotes; Hoods; Latex; Crops; Ball gags, and others moved aside in the  search.

I rush back to the other side of the alley and dig at the arm chair; around and under in desperation. At one point I accidently kick my prided hand winch releasing the noose to the floor in a loud thud.

I stop, sitting on the floor now, realizing the photos, the notes are gone. The envelope is gone.

files of the stalker

[prologue]

Martin Brown called in sick today, but he's not really sick, just a little overwhelmed is all. He's never lied to his employer before, so he is feeling guilty about it. He steps outside for a walk to get it off his mind.

As he strolls random streets he sees a man up ahead step through a door and out of one of the houses; Tall, very short hair, smoking -- martin detests smoking, the habit makes him sick. The man turns and walks hurriedly away, martin barely pays attention.

As he passes the house he notices an envelope on the ground, it seems the man dropped it. Martin looks about before he picks it up. 'Sir', he calls out trying to get the smoking man's attention. 'Sir' he cries again, but the man is already gone.

Martin turns back knocking on the door of the house; but he can see that no one will answer. He slips the envelope under the door and continues on his way, noticing the beautiful christmas tree inside and how it contrasts with the Japanese style home.

[end of prologue]

[circumventing darwin : theory in infancy]

(originally posted in oct-07 on a lesser blog, thought to revisit here)

where to begin. i've started down a path considering where evolution has taken us. much of the path was triggered by 1. a recent birthday 2. watching fight club 3. reading kurt vonnegut's well composed tirade against society 'man without a country' and 4. the opening scene from the movie '300'.

the thought simply goes that current society is progressing at a rate that allows, and in some cases welcomes, the introduction, existence and propagation of a 'weaker' gene. while reaching this point is a testament to our progress and dominance throughout the ages. is it 'good'?

starting with '300', early in the film its clear that the spartans enforce gene selection by killing infants who are (physically) weaker or poorly formed. this act only allows the strongest of children to become men and women in the society. by contrast current day practices attempt to 'preserve life' at any expense, for children in particular. this introduces inherently 'weaker' genes into the larger society.

then there's 'fight club', a film that anyone under the age of 30 is bound to believe is about misogyny and brute force (as i thought),  but watching the film again, on my birthday no less took the experience down a different path, which exposes the struggle between the two identities of 'jack'. and not in the way 'american beauty' covers a man in his mid-life, but in the way that a person who is physically weak, mentally corrupt and spiritually bankrupt travels the existential. 'jack's' struggle as he fights acceptance of who he thinks he is is my own struggle, and, i think the struggle of the not-so-stoic modern man.

enter kurt vonnegut, i'm a fan of kv so in reading 'man without a country' i'm expecting a good read, poignant etc. but this was much further. the references to his belief that the earth is responding to its 6m inhabitants the way that our own bodies respond to viruses, heat and eradication, sound too true. followed by the story of a hungarian doctor who saved millions by bucking the norm, speaking truth to power and following his convictions who ends his life in shame becuase he was unpopular, unconventional and outside the mainstream. vonnegut wrote the book as a letter to me; at least it makes me feel that way.

to tie this all together; survival of the fittest isn't actually a quote from darwin, but most people don't know that, and attribute it to him anyway -- so i'll use it. our society, our time, is de-masculinization at work. the stripping of the male identity through-out generations. survival is no longer an issue for western society, its a given. if there is no longer a need for what we were physically designed, ensuring survial and dominance, and we (men) are now moved into a role of 'service', in just over a generation, then what response is expected, what is the period of adjustment, what is the expected end result? what if the expectation doesn't fit the crime.

weakness, physical or mental, and however it is defined, is allowed to thrive, and is supported at many levels. safety nets are nice, in the short-term, but serve to dilute the larger population and take away from society as a whole. the spartans guarded their genetic gate at the birth canal where we invite everyone to the party. the resulting population struggles as we evolve into a softer, gentler society that consumes to survive, but loathes its inner self, its genetic design.

our mother earth fights to shed her mutated children that gnaw at her life and greedily feed on her wilting body. we kill ourselves by circumventing 125k years of tested design. we destroy ourselves by destroying ourselves then when that isn't enough we get our environment in to join the prolonged suicide party.

i don't know where this train of thought leads, or what the next station is, or whether the bridge ahead is washed out. i will have to let you know when i get there.

(still trudging forward)