WEEK 435: Crows; Brilliance and a Fourth of July Salute to the UK

And the Brain Dead Shall Lead Them

If it weren’t for slogans and bumper-sticker philosophies, management would have very little to say at work meetings. Just the other day, at a meeting, I heard the slogan “Write What You Know” “shared” by a member of the “team” (as anyone who has worked at least one day in life, the preponderance of facetious quotation marks soon becomes obvious). I work in a government warehouse that delivers supplies procured from the “civilian sector” to various locations on base. Cases of toilet paper and flats of bottled water, that sort of stuff. There ain’t a whole lot of writing what I know in that field, yet it got said because it has taken its place among managerial verbal dingleberries such as “Wow, let me look into that and get back to you”–which, translated from management-speak, means “I do not care, and hell will grow petunias before I get back to you.”

Yet hearing the old “write what you know” almost moved me to voluntarily “share” at a meeting for the first time ever (for I am shy around fools). If my mental firewall against such an activity hadn’t been up, I would have said “It’s not write what you know, but how you know.”

I say “how” because it stops people from saying “If it’s “know,” how can Stephen King write about monsters that do not exist?” A better question would be “Why are there stories about true love?” because there are more of those around, and they feature an even more unlikely subject.

How you know is best displayed in an example. The following is how I know the world:

Haplessly Hectored

Not all of my wildlife experiences are cherished. Although I vow to never harm a creature, it is not a mutual promise.

There’s a large poplar tree across the street from my apartment building. For the past few springs it has been the nesting site for a pair of antisocial Crows named Mickey and Mallory, after the lead characters in Natural Born Killers.

I know it is the same two Crows every year–you get to know the beat of your enemy’s wings, by and by. And from May through June for the past three or four years Mickey and Mallory have been my tormentors. No one in this crummy little town is kinder to animals than I, but that doesn’t impress Mick and Mal, they’re just young psychos getting their kicks.

Every year enough time passes for me to forget about Mickey and Mallory, then one spring day I will pass the poplar and it all comes back to me through sharp scoldings and threats made by the fiends who swoop furiously to and fro, just above my head.

Neither felon has ever touched me, but they come damn close; first it’s Mallory from one side then Mickey on the other. I try to maintain some dignity but inevitably lose my nerve and scuttle into my building at a brisk trot. Then I fall into that special depression reserved for those whose destiny involves taking shit from Birds and small mammals.

I’m told Crows often do such because they are territorial and highly protective of their hell spawn.

A likely story.

You see, Crows are highly intelligent, which is necessary in the development of a sadist. It requires a certain amount of brain power to get your kicks from recreational violence. Mickey and Mallory goddam well know I am not going to climb thirty feet up a poplar tree to steal said hell-spawn. No, they persecute me because they can. I fear that long exposure to the human race is transforming Crows into Flying Trolls.

That’s why I like Pigeons. Too dumb to be evil. I used to work in a Seattle warehouse where Pigeons frequently nested atop ledges below the awnings out back. Crows build sturdy, well planned nests. Pigeons arrange unbelievably half-assed messes from weeds, feathers, Pigeon shit and discarded cheese burger wrappers–and call it good after five or six beak-fulls.

Although I admit that, pound for pound, an average Pigeon can produce more feces in his/her lifetime than ten regular centurions combined will in theirs, Pigeons seldom chase bennies with cheap wine and join gangs. It takes discernable intelligence to do stuff like that. You never find it in orange eyes that suggest a blown fuse; it’s as though awakening in this wild world overloads their poppy seed-sized brains and places that everlasting gone fishin’ expression in their faces.

Summary

Minus the preface and this afterword, the preceding was what I had come up with when needing my latest weekly wrap. Sometimes something in my head will unleash a torrent of nonsense that leads me to wonder “What the hell does any of that have to do with a weekly wrap?”

I don’t know, but that is how I know things, through a veil of cowardice and shame, and I’m stuck with it the same way Pigeons have unlit orange eyes. In that sense, “Good” or “Bad” doesn’t come into play when you write how you know, for that stuff is for others to decide. But it is my personality and whatever voice I have. The way I see it, the only true bits about writing involve doing a lot of it until you know that you are being you and not an imitation of an admired writer. That and reading good writing by others when not creating something of your own. Forget the books and websites that offer to teach you; they only want to make money from writing by taking it from aspiring writers; such people are the bad examples we set for impressionable Crows.

Hmmm, now I need a segue…hmmm … .Oh! Got one: Fortunately, Literally Stories brings you good stuff to read almost daily, so stick with us and you will be halfway there.

Four Take a Bow, One Runs From Crows

There was only one writer new to the site this week. Another made his third visit, two others are back for seconds and the other is sleeping it off somewhere in cyberspace. These persons (save for the last, for I cannot be her judge) certainly write how they know. Each voice is distinct and honest.

The Returning by Rob Roy O’Keefe is a poetic slice of excellence that conveys loss without saying it, pain without dwelling on it and is a piece that is greater than the sum of its words.

Jake Kinzie appeared for the second time on Tuesday with The Book That Starts With ‘L.’ It takes courage to write as a character who is more than a bit creepy around the edges. But Jake has done it, and presents a three-dimensional human being.

First time site contributor, Neil Jefferies presented a wonderful stream of consciousness number on Wednesday. Neil’s Meeting of the Minds gives the reader an insightful glimpse into a hectic mind that is likely to be closer to home than anyone might care to admit.

The sense-making part of the week concluded with the happy return of Rabbi Steven Lebow. Goblins and Ghosts in a Nebula of Ants is a triumph of the sound of language in a specific idiom. At first blush it might sound stereotypical, but as you go along there is a fine natural sense and a grasp of interaction. And the ideas are dizzying and spun in such a clever sense.

I am guilty of SaragunVision 23. All I can really say is I prefer a world that has Flying Weasels in it over the one that features 7:00 A.M. work meetings on gray Monday mornings.

Anyway, I’m out of words until my mental cistern gathers more….but here’s something I prepared earlier, and I cast it toward you on my way out the door.

In Honor of Good Riddance (or, Don’t Let the Door Hit You In the Musket) Day

American Independence Day is just around the corner. I often find myself wondering what the world would be like if the Revolutionary War had gone the other way. If it had, maybe World War II might not have happened in Europe, or it certainly would have been a great deal shorter. Then again, that would mean a world ninety-percent under the Union Jack. A case of meet the new boss, same as the old boss except for the accent. Who knows, But I can salute my friends in the UK with a list of ten UK fictional characters that I have affection for.

• Basil Fawlty (John Cleese, Fawlty Towers)
• Father Jack (Frank Kelly, Father Ted)
• Dr. Strangelove (Peter Sellers Dr. Strangelove)
• Patsy (Joanna Lumley Absolutely Fabulous. My role model)
• Sergeant Wilson (John Le Mesurier, Dad’s Army).
• Mildred Roper (Yootha Joyce, Man About the House)
• Brian (Graham Chapman, The Life of Brian)
• Sibella (Joan Greenwood, Kind Hearts and Coronets)
• Spud (Ewen Bremner, Trainspotting)
• Open for suggestions

Leila