The Equinox

I don't get much correspondence, but if I did I'd pretend that a lot of you sexy beasts are wondering whatever became of

(Johnny Fever)

my Svengali, Idealjetsam.

Answer: he's in our hearts and minds. Mostly in our minds. Or at least mine. I think he hypnotized me one night when we were out drinking. That would explain a lot, specifically why I do the chicken dance whenever I cross an intersection.

Idealjetsam, who doesn't look a day over twelve, is to Psychedelic Kimchi what Ray Kroc is to McDonald's: he doesn't have an active role, but he's the driving force of an empire. No hyperbole.

Recently, I spoke with Idealjetsam. And the literary world fell to its knees.

A transcript (edited for length):

Sparkles:

Bang! You dead!

모든 대화 상대에게 메시지를 보내지는 못했습니다.

Bang! You dead!

Sparkles:

Shit. Missed.

Idealjetsam:

eh?

Sparkles:

Nothing, I saw your name come up and I wanted to send you a message right away. My folks sometimes do that, and it annoys the hell out of me.

Idealjetsam:

you got me

Idealjetsam:

my comp is still booting

Idealjetsam:

and it was annoying

Idealjetsam:

congrats

Idealjetsam:

dick

Idealjetsam:

you broke my computer

Idealjetsam:

now go write on your blog or something

Sparkles:

I was gonna, but I posted 25 articles this month, so I'm taking a long-deserved break.

Sparkles:

Sorry, 24.

Idealjetsam:

so drinking it is

Sparkles:

And The Mars Volta.

Sparkles:

So, what are we studying? Maybe I can help. I'm sort of a big deal when it comes to academics, you know.

Idealjetsam:

Freire's dialogic of oppression and hope as applied to a world civic

Sparkles:

Oh come on; give me something at least a little bit challenging.

Idealjetsam:

haha

Idealjetsam:

wikipedia couldn't help, eh?

Sparkles:

I was in bathroom! Bathroom!

Idealjetsam:

yeah, yeah

Sparkles:

I peed!

Idealjetsam:

fear will do that

Sparkles:

Seriously, though, I have an idea I want to run by you. It's about a short story I've imagined.

Idealjetsam:

uh-oh

Sparkles:

And I'm dead serious here.

Sparkles:

It was inspired by Murakami's "A Poor-Aunt Story" and my own life.

Sparkles:

Here it is:

Idealjetsam:

ok

Sparkles:

Told from 2 (possibly 3, though maybe 1 is the soundest idea) perspectives

Sparkles:

it's the tale of a family dog, loved by his owners

Idealjetsam:

like Lassie?

Sparkles:

Let me finish!

Idealjetsam:

ok

Sparkles:

This dog, right, he's a great dog. Very loyal, and everybody loves him. Even mailmen love this fucker

Idealjetsam:

ok

Sparkles:

But around his 14th (78th) year, the dog gets sick.

Sparkles:

Cancer

Idealjetsam:

are you sure you don't want to run to the deli for two eggs on a hard roll with provolone and tomato

Idealjetsam:

?

Idealjetsam:

ok

Idealjetsam:

cancer

Sparkles:

Beer is my dinner.

Idealjetsam:

carry on

Sparkles:

Anyway, the dog gets terminally ill.

Sparkles:

He's hurting.

Sparkles:

And the family loves him so dearly that they do everything possible to keep him alive.

Sparkles:

But the dog, he doesn't understand.

Idealjetsam:

wait

Idealjetsam:

wasn't this already done?

Idealjetsam:

are you taking the piss?

Sparkles:

After a while, he starts to wonder why the family is keeping him alive. Maybe they're torturing him.

Sparkles:

I assure you, I'm being genuine. Why, has this idea already been done?

Idealjetsam:

it sounds familiar

Sparkles:

Anyway, the dog, once a loyal and loving family dog, starts to hate, despise his owners...even the little boy.

Idealjetsam:

especially the part about the dog not knowing

Idealjetsam:

while the family does everything

Idealjetsam:

but go on

Sparkles:

I was reminded a little of Dalton Trumbo's 'Johnny Got His Gun,' but that was afterwards.

Sparkles:

Anyhoo, the dog at the end despises the the family. He wants to kill them all, only he's too weakened to do anything but stay alive and hate them.

Sparkles:

There's an unintentional eusthanization [sic] message in there. Mostly I think it's a good story about perspectives.

Idealjetsam:

what's the point?

Sparkles:

There must be a point, now? I guess the point is that nobody, human or beast, can see the whole picture. To the family, they're doing what they think is right: keeping their animal friend alive. To the dog, he feels betrayed and wonders until (and after, maybe) his death why a family he was so loyal to treated him so cruelly when they used to be so kind.

Idealjetsam:

some Hemingway you are...

Idealjetsam:

ok

Idealjetsam:

I think Bill Murray should play the dog

Idealjetsam:

no

Idealjetsam:

Charles Grodin

Sparkles:

That's not funny. Well, maybe a little.

Idealjetsam:

anyway

Idealjetsam:

the idea is cool at this stage

Idealjetsam:

but you really need to wait til the next stage

Idealjetsam:

and see where you're at

Sparkles:

Short story or novel?

Idealjetsam:

tetralogy

Sparkles:

And don't worry; it won't be a kids' story. In an early chapter, the dog catches the son wacking off and tries to hump his leg.

Idealjetsam:

interesting

Idealjetsam:

the details you thresh out first

Sparkles:

Write what you know(?)

Idealjetsam:

what ever comes to you, naturally

Idealjetsam:

ok

Idealjetsam:

reading, must do

Idealjetsam:

piss off

Sparkles:

Ha. The real question now is: what kind of dog is it?

Sparkles:

Mind if I post this on PK? The latter part.

Idealjetsam:

our conversation?

Sparkles:

About the short story/book.

Idealjetsam:

sure

Idealjetsam:

post it all. Even the part where I blame the Jews for all the wars in the world.

(OK, I made that last part up.)

Idealjetsam:

I wanna be famous

*****

So there you go; that's how my Saturday night was spent. And if you don't see many posts by me for a while, it's because a) I've been kidnapped by North Korean spies, or b) I'm writing a novel about a dog.