The Changeling
I'm not here. There is no I. I am not the 'hound; I am of the 'hound. I am Jack's surrogate baying.
This is not a post.
This is the placeholder telling you that the 'hound will post, that he can post, that he's still capable of posting. This is the scarecrow; it holds the murder of crows at bay until the 'hound can again prowl the fields.
Or it's not. I wouldn't know, because I'm not so much here.
I am Jack's bleating ennui. I am Jack's overstuffed schedule. I am Jack's seething anomie.
Jack is tired and incoherent. He'll be back if he ever again decides that he has something worth sharing.
/wail.
This is not a post.
This is the placeholder telling you that the 'hound will post, that he can post, that he's still capable of posting. This is the scarecrow; it holds the murder of crows at bay until the 'hound can again prowl the fields.
Or it's not. I wouldn't know, because I'm not so much here.
I am Jack's bleating ennui. I am Jack's overstuffed schedule. I am Jack's seething anomie.
Jack is tired and incoherent. He'll be back if he ever again decides that he has something worth sharing.
/wail.
Labels: existential hoo-ha
posted by thelyamhound at 2:43 PM
4 Comments:
This is Jack's wife, and she wants you to tell Jack that when his show is over, there will be a "naked Sunday" in which they will both do absolutely nothing but relax, eat, have sex, and watch movies.
This is Joe's belated sense of Unexpected Overshare Victim.
This is Chuck's sense of "quit stealing my gag."
I first became familiar with the "I am ______'s ______" conceit in middle school, where I saw I Am Joe's Lung, I Am Joe's Lung, and I Am Joe's Spine in health class with Mr. Emmert (who referred to the films as the I Am Joe's Guts series; I'm suddenly gaining all new insights as to why I am who I am . . . ). So it doesn't really belong to Chuck (no offense to Chuck, of course, whose work pleases me to no end).
Hee hee
I like Fight Club
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