For What A Forgotten Lifetime's Worth

I know how sweet it is
I can taste with an empty mouth
the bitterness of hope so close to death
makes every small wisp of air big
I know what it means to suffocate
And I can't let it go cuz I'll forget
everything I was or thought I could have been
And I'll forget it
Everything it was and what I wondered it might be
And when hope is there but doesn't matter is when they say you're dead
That's when you really choose what it's worth, the meaning we cling to
In hate or in love or in the nothing in between
and the amusement breaking through the clouds in your brain
like god pissing down rain
or encouragement's light could make you laugh just one more time
For what a forgotten lifetime's worth

Apples - Chapter One

Apples - Chapter One

1.

                I was walking through the shady forest.  It had been a couple days since I had last eaten.  This particular stretch of the forest was barren with fruit – and crawling with dangerous predators.  I had to travel slowly and keep my wits about me.  I would at times take breaks from my walking and hide in the shadows.

I was a scavenger – I did not enjoy taking the risk of hunting game.  I did not fashion hunting weapons of any kind.  I preferred to travel as a nomad, collecting low hanging fruit such as berries.  Occasionally I would find a corpse of a small animal, perhaps a rodent or a bunny and eat its meat raw.  On the rare occasions when I would enjoy companionship, I always chose friends and women who could cook meat.  In return, I would provide sexual favors to the women and comic relief for male companions.  But in the end, my relations did not have permanence.

I saw light emerging some many meters in the distance.  I must have been coming to a clearing in the forest.  There may be less predators outside of the forest, I thought, and perhaps I will find the corpse of a mouse to pick at.

When I came to the end of the forest, I noticed a wooden sign.  Red paint upon the sign declared:

Apples 4 Sale.

Underneath the words there was a painted red arrow pointing east.  I walked many miles that way and finally came to a mountainside.  Engraved in the mountainside was a wide gully.  It appeared to extend several miles up the mountain.  I could see a large and very tall apple tree rising up, out and above the gully's crest.  I entered the pass and eventually arrived at the tree.  About 50 yards away, embedded in the gully's wall was a cave.  Several pairs of eyes peered outward at me from the darkness.  The creatures – whatever they were – began whispering among themselves.  I apparently had come to what appeared to be some sort of primitive society.

                Finally, a tiny hobbit of a woman ran out of the cave toward the tree.  She stopped at the base of the trunk and shouted up into the thick branches, “Apples!”

                The leaves began to stir as if a great breeze had picked up, and a thunderous thudding could be heard from something hitting the bark of the tree.

                Eventually, a foot came into view, down and below the lowest branches and leaves.  The man soon appeared in his full form to me, all seven feet, two inches of him.  He was a giant.

                He smiled at me and said, “I see we have a guest.  Welcome.”

                I wasn’t sure what to say.  His face was so welcoming, yet his size was alarming.  Soon, many other hobbit women began to emerge from the cave.  The initial women cocked their heads to one side as they looked at me, but they said nothing.  When all the hobbit women, some thirty in all, had ventured out of the cave to look at me, they began to speak among themselves in low whispers.  They would nod their heads at each other and giggle and at times you could make out their favorite word being spoken in excited whispers:

                “Apples!”

                Two male creatures then appeared.  They were the last to leave the cave.  They were much smaller than the giant man from the tree.  They were slightly smaller than me, but they were larger than the women.  They rubbed the backs of their necks nervously.

                One lonely woman came toward me slowly.  She was finally about two feet away from me.  She only came up to my waist.  She looked up at me with her giant elf eyes and cocked her head to one side.

                In a questioning tone, she asked, “Apples?”

                Then she bore her jagged, triangular teeth at me.  I jumped back in fear.  They were carnivores.

                The giant man laughed at me and said calmly, “Don’t worry.  That’s just Patrice’s smile.  Calm down now, Patrice.”

                Patrice ran to the giant man and hugged his shin and massaged his ankles.  She purred like a cat.  Then she looked up and said to him lovingly, “He get the apples from the high branches of the tall tree.”

                “So they eat apples as well as meat?” I asked.

                “Yes, my friend,” the giant said.  “The women have molars in the back of their mouths and sharp daggers in the front.  The men only have molars and incisors.    So our species does not require much meat.  We mainly eat apples.”

                “I see,” I said.

                “Run along, Patrice,” the giant told the hobbit woman.  She ran back to the rest of the women.  The two beta males looked on.  The giant looked over at them for a few moments and seemed to be considering them.  One of the two men looked down at his toes, while the other looked away, stoic.  Then the giant looked back to me and said, “Come with me.  Can you climb?”

                “Yeah, kind of,” I said.  “I mean honestly though, I’d rather not.  I might fall.”

                “Yes,” the giant said.  “You might.”

                “Women,” he addressed them.  Then he pointed at me, cocked his enormous skull to one side and said in a high pitched, questioning tone, “Apples?”

                The women all bared their daggers.  A couple of them took a few steps toward me.

                “I see,” I said.  “I guess I’ll follow you up the tree.”

                “Good,” the giant said, and smiled warmly once more.  “I was hoping you’d see reason.  Now you will enjoy the privilege of seeing what the world looks like from the high branches of the tall tree.  You will see the world for what it truly looks like.”

                The climb was difficult, and I did almost fall.  But I made it up to the highest branches.  There was a fortress erected among the leaves.  Its floor was made of wood, and the wood had been nailed to the bigger, trunk-like branches.

                “Nice place you got here,” I said as we both sat cross-legged upon his floor.

                “Thank you,” the giant said.  “You see, when I first arrived here there was a much smaller tree.  The Manboys – I’m sure you noticed them – they were able to climb the other tree easily and throw apples down to the females.  I cut down the small tree and carried pieces of it up into the tall tree and built my home.  That was how I established my kingdom.”

                “Oh,” I said.  “That’s kind of a dick move.”

                He said nothing.  If he was going to hold me hostage and threaten to have the hobbit women eat me, I was going to fuck with him at least a little bit.

                I looked out from the tree house into the rest of the tree.  There were many apples.  I reached off the edge and picked one.  I took a couple bites and munched with my mouth slightly open.

                Then I said to the giant, “Why did you really ask me to come up here?”

                “Ah,” the giant started, and looked down.  “I have a business proposal for you.”

                “Okay,” I said and took another bite.

                “I’ve taken note of the length of your strides.  You seem to have longer legs than the two Manboys.  You seem reasonably able to perform simple, repetitive tasks.  I’ve estimated that you could do somewhere around 75% of the work the two Manboys are, currently.”

                “So, more apples?” I asked.

                “I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea.”

                “What do you have in mind, then?”

                “We have guests here from time to time, and I often feed them to the females, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

                “Ok.”

                “I’d like to feed the Manboys to the women,” the giant said.  “I’ve grown tired of them.  They used to amuse me in my youth, but now, as I get older, they tend to bore me.  I need something new in my life.  And I think you can help my kingdom run more smoothly.  Tell you what.  You do 75% of what the Manboys do.  With only one other man besides me in the community, the women won’t physically be able to eat you.  They need someone to throw them the apples, and you see - I don’t have to.  And the women understand that.  If they were to eat you under those circumstances, with the two Manboys already dead, the women would have to do all the work.  So they will be forced to do the remaining 25% of the apple catching and collecting after my plan goes into effect.  Apple catching is very simple, you see.  I throw the apples down from the high branches of the tall tree, and the Manboys catch the majority of them and put them in baskets.  The ones that drop and hit the ground are to be inspected and any apple that has not become applesauce will be placed in the baskets.  The women can do the inspecting of the fallen apples.  That will be their job now.  Can you catch?  Think fast.”

                An apple came flying toward my head, and instinctively I reached up and grabbed the fruit right out of the air.

                “Very good,” the giant said.

                “Apples,” I heard a voice call up from beneath the branches and leaves.

                The giant laughed a hearty laugh and said to me, “The women are becoming impatient.”

                “Apples,” another voice cried.  Their laughter echoed up toward me.

                “They’re wondering if they get to eat meat today,” the giant said, amused.

                “Are they?” I nervously whispered.

                “Not you, of course.  Come.  Follow me down the tree and I will inform the women that they are allowed to eat one of the Manboys.  I still haven’t decided which one should die first, but the second will be eaten tomorrow.  Just let me do all of the talking.  Don’t say a word.  Do you understand?”

                I nodded.  I was fucked.

               

My Novella can be purchased in Kindle Format in the link below!

The United States of Feminism - Why I Went MGTOW by Paul Lynn on Amazon Kindle

MIXER HELL

MIXER HELL

                The power went out again and the four were stuck in the cold garage.  The weather had become miserable over a two week stretch and I wasn’t about to go walking around in 38 degree weather while it was raining and windy - even if I desperately needed some booze.  I don't drive (because I drink), so I was trapped taking moke snaps with an aspiring rap artist and two stoners from Chico.

                I was used to this sort of battle royale that always takes place between landlords and tenants.  Nobody wants to put the bills in their name, but it’s technically the responsibility of the landlord to keep the power on and the water running.  There are only two bathrooms, and the landlord always thinks that it’s only a matter of time before your toilets are unusable, and that you’ll just cave and take on his responsibility for him.

                The aspiring rapper kept reciting lyrics acapella since he couldn’t bring up any beats on his phone.  It had died.  He asked a couple times to borrow my phone but I just didn’t say anything.  His failure to come in on the one on a consistent basis made me reconsider.  Maybe the drums would help him stay on time but then I figured the difference would be negligible.

                The stoner couple from Chico started getting a little antsy.

                “This is ridiculous,” the red-headed boyfriend said.

                “I know!” his girlfriend exclaimed.  “I’ll light a candle.”

                I just stared at the table littered with tobacco, marijuana and moke bongs.

                “The landlord really should take care of this,” the boyfriend said when his girlfriend disappeared into the house.  His eyes seemed to be searching mine for some answer.  I think he was wondering if I would do anything about the situation.  He had heard from someone that the landlord and I were allegedly friends.  And truthfully, we were, in a Lando-Han sort of way.

                “Yeah, I generally just wait Hank out,” I told the red-head.  “What’s your name by the way?”

                I try to remember my roommates' names, I really do.  But I drink, so there you go.

                “Todd,” Todd said.

                “Oh, yeah, I see it,” I said.  “You look like a Todd.”

                His face appeared puzzled after I said it.  The rapper laughed.

                It was starting to get dark.  Todd’s girlfriend re-emerged from the house and came back into the garage holding a large, yellow candle.

                “Where should I put the candle?” she asked everyone.

No one responded.  I just put my face in my hands.

“Why is nobody interested in candle placement?” she asked, bewildered and frustrated.

“I vote for you,” I looked up and told her, “to be in charge of candle placement.”

Surprisingly, Todd laughed and I was somewhat off put that he wouldn’t stand up for his girlfriend in that situation.  He was probably some traditional conservative (trad-con) or some bullshit.  You know those guys.  They think that if American culture returned to the 1950’s then everything would be daisies and sunshine.  You know, back before the Civil Rights’ Movement.

“Speaking of voting,” Todd started.

I just stared at the table.  I think Todd was tired of the rapper’s lyrics.

And eventually, somehow the topic got to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, the place all religious and political debates end.  Todd’s girlfriend kept telling Todd to stop but Todd apparently doesn’t value his girlfriend’s opinions – like at all.

Apparently I was wearing my “End All Aid to Israel” sweatshirt and didn’t realize it.  Eventually he came out to me.

“I’m Jewish,” he said.

“Oh, I guess I’ve really offended you.”

“Well,” Todd said.  “While I understand your point of view, Israel has a right to exist and I’m not sure what can be done about its existential crisis in the face of radical Islam and terrorism.”

“While I appreciate your concern, Todd,” I said.  “The cold hard reality of this world we live in is that the West has been falling apart of about a century now.  Terrorism isn't the main threat to Israel's existence, or the existence of the West, for that matter.  There is another cause for society's collapse, a much more sinister problem.”

“Big government?”

“Um, sort of,” I replied.  “Where do you think big government comes from?”

“Well,” he started and then stopped to think.  “I guess the Marxist and liberal ideologies that are overrunning the academic world, the media-“

“No, Todd,” I cut him off.  “It’s been nearly a century since we gave women the right to vote.  Since then, your Western values have come under attack, and Mohammad is at your doorstep.  Why do you think Southern plantation owners had so many slaves?  Why do you think Israel needs all this new land at the expense of the Palestinians?  Why do you think Western Civilization is collapsing?  Because women nag their husbands to do stupid shit.  Like occupy foreign countries, like slavery, like genocide.  It’s when men fail to keep their pimp hands strong and let women run everything that society collapses under the weight of feminism.”

“All right,” Todd stood up, as if to defend his girlfriend.

“I don’t care about having the right to vote,” she said, scrolling through her Instagram feed.

“See, Todd?” I said.  “If you take women’s right to vote away they just kind of go with it.  Women don’t care about politics, never have.  She thinks you should do all the voting, clearly.”

“Even though I disagree with nearly everything he believes in,” she said, still looking down at her phone.

Todd stewed with anger.

“It’s getting chilly in here,” Todd’s girlfriend said and put her hood up.

“You look very humble in your hijab,” I said to her.

Todd lost his shit.  He started waving his arms around and saying incoherent things about democracy and Jerusalem.

The landlord walked in and said, “I hear a bunch of yelling.  What’s going on guys, everybody getting along?”

Todd gestured at me and said, “He just said women shouldn’t vote.”

The landlord just looked at him for a minute and said, “Of course they shouldn’t.  Look around you.  Why do you think you have no power or water?”

“Because you failed to keep it-“ Todd started and stopped.

“Do you know how much money I pay in taxes just to keep this feminist society afloat?” the landlord asked.  “I simply can’t afford to keep your power on.  The government and its failure to keep its pimp hand strong over welfare queens has forced my hand.  Your girlfriend has money, no doubt, what with society basically showering her with cash and prizes.  She obviously has some man’s job in the spirit of diversity and what not.  Get her to put the bills in her name.”

“She can’t afford it either,” I said.  “What with feminism letting useless women work, men aren’t able to produce enough goods and services of value to keep up with the cost of living.  We’re dying a slow, gynocentric death in the form of economic collapse.”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” the landlord said.  “Then, I don’t see what can be done.”

“Well something needs to be decided,” Todd said.

I looked around the room.  The landlord couldn’t afford it, I didn’t want the responsibility.  Todd couldn’t be trusted in a position of authority and his girlfriend had just given up her right to vote.  The only person left was the rapper.  His stage name was K-Ice.

“I vote for K-ice to decide what to do about the utilities,” I said.

Todd said, “I vote for myself.”  Then he looked at his girlfriend.  She was still scrolling through her phone.  She didn’t say anything.

Then K-ice said, “Oh yeah, my girlfriend’s an Instagram model.  She takes naked pictures and all these thirsty dudes give her pounds upon pounds of weed and I just flip it for an easy profit.  I can afford to put the bills in my name.”

“Then it’s settled,” the landlord said.  “K-ice is in charge.”

“Todd, call PG&E,” I said, “and when they finally take you off hold have them talk to K-ice about the bill.  Until then, resume practicing your lyrics, K-ice.  You’re getting a little lazy with your delivery.  More oompff behind it this time.”

“Ok!” K-ice exclaimed and picked up his lyric sheet.

Todd looked at the three of us, at the dark room, the candle burning softly, and the weed in tobacco and bongs on the table.

“How did I get here?” Todd wondered aloud.

“Welcome to Mixer Hell,” I said.  I packed a mixed bowl of tobacco and weed and took a snap.  “Lighten up, Todd.  It’s nice here.  You’ll get used to it.”

               

Front Cover

Front cover

The United States of Feminism Synopsis

The United States of Feminism Synopsis

Journey with Paul, a high-functioning Schizophrenic/alcoholic as he wades through the piss and shit in America’s sewer: Northern California.  Surrounded by moronic men who consistently crash and burn trying to keep up with his drinking habit, Paul turns instead to women to ease the pain of his isolation.  But of course, the women are worse.  And as Paul realizes he’s living in the United States of Feminism, that ALL WOMEN ARE LIKE THAT, he begins to stand up for himself and say “No” to women’s demands.  Consequently, his relationships go from bad to worse, leading Paul to eventually come to the only logical conclusion – he has to go MGTOW.

Read the novella, The United States of Feminism - Why I Went MGTOW by Paul Lynn here:

http://mokesnapcentral.blogspot.com/2017/05/the-united-states-of-feminism-why-i.html