Surprise! Prank Time

Somewhere right now, there’s a man shaking his head, wondering what the heck just happened. It’s that thought that makes this prank such a good one.

A couple of days ago I posted about remembering my mission to prank. Earlier today I wrote about a hybrid incident of anger and laughter.

Coincidentally, this one happened less than thirty feet away from the last one. Or is it fewer? Who cares.

I had a book under the front seat of my car since two days ago. I didn’t know when the opportunity would present itself for me to pull a fun prank on someone. By the way, the book was a good one, given to me by a friend.

There were two people standing at the Razorback bus stop on Appleby. I retrieved the book from under the seat, got out of the car, and looped around across the street. Luckily, both the man and the woman were still waiting when I appeared on the opposite side of the street. I pretended to be lost in thought, when in fact I was using my peripheral vision to determine when there might be no traffic coming at either direction.

With my book in hand, I waved enthusiastically across to the two people.

“Hey John,” I shouted. The man looked up at me as I darted across the street with the book held up. It’s important that you know that I don’t know this man and unless I accidentally guessed correctly, his name is definitely not John.

I lowered the book as I drew close to him, still trotting.

“Janice told me I would find you here. She wanted me to give you this book, the one you wanted to read.”

The man looked at me in surprise but he did hold his hand out instinctively when I tried to hand him the book. He took it from my hand.

Without looking at him again, I took off running through the bushes and then through the parking lot and out of sight.

I wish I could have witnessed how he reacted and what he told the woman he was with. Assuming she asked. They weren’t ‘together.’ They were just standing at the same bus stop.

He is no doubt wondering who John is, and maybe why Janice somehow knew that John would be at the bus stop. I hope he appreciates the fact that I added a little surprise and confused magic to his otherwise boring wait at the bus stop.

If he reads the book, it is a quick read and quite enjoyable. There’s my book review, if you needed an excuse to read this post.

“TIME TO PRANK. REMEMBER YOUR MISSION.”

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Anger + Laughter

After work, I was standing two feet away from the trail spur. An older white guy on a bicycle started screaming. “On your f left!”

Actual screaming.

I waved and smiled out of habit.

It’s important that you realize I wasn’t on that side of the trail spur. I was standing on the outside. Which means I was on his right, in case you’re related to this guy and are accustomed to hearing upside-down world stupidity.

He stopped his bicycle. “Didn’t you hear me? Get the f*** out of the way!” He was a lot closer to me than he intended. I could have pushed him and toppled him over like a bad glass of chardonnay. leaving him entangled in his expensive bike.

I looked down at my feet, seeing that they were clearly in the grass and two feet away from the pavement.

Fire blossomed in my brain. “What the f*** are you cursing at me for? I’m not in your way or even on the trail spur.”

“When I tell you to move, get your ass out of my way.” He was angry. Like someone had stolen the bra he kept hidden under his bed.

“Sir, I suggest you depart with as much haste as you can muster. Because if you come closer to me or scream again, I’m going to tie your legs around your bicycle like a pretzel.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“No. I’m offering you the opportunity to become involuntarily limber. Now piss off.”

He called me a particularly interesting name as he started pedaling away. Because the crosswalk is 13 ft from the turn, the bicyclist did not have the right of way across the very busy road where people fly constantly.

He was so angry that he started across without looking in either direction. He was too busy screaming at me with his head turned.

Time slowed to molasses. The car coming down the hill screeched to a halt. If you guessed that the man spent several seconds shaking his fist at the driver and cursing her, you would be right.

As the guy on the bike pedaled the rest of the way across the street, the driver hit the horn and held it. The bicyclist jerked in surprise and once again stopped and recited a long list of curse words at the driver.

When he looked across to see that I was laughing, I expected literal fire to burst out of his head.

“F*** you!” he said.

“Thanks,” I said, giving him the thumbs up.

The driver shook her head and continued on.
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Time To Prank

“TIME TO PRANK REMEMBER YOUR MISSION!” 

The weirdest noise filled my apartment. Even my cat lifted his head from atop his high perch on the sun-filled cat castle. I looked everywhere for the source – except for the very last place, where I found it. One set of my wireless headphones was beeping strangely. Assuming I was being pranked somehow or receiving an alien transmission, I let it beep. 

Picking up my phone, I realized I had an odd notification icon at the top of my screen. It was one of the native Samsung apps, blaring that I had an important reminder. Opening, I saw that it was from a year ago. 

“TIME TO PRANK! REMEMBER YOUR MISSION!” 

I don’t remember the day, but obviously the September afternoon must have sparked a reminder that I needed to get back to basic craziness. 

I sat at my computer and began my mission.

Let the games begin!

X

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September Chill

Let’s just say I cut through a place I wasn’t supposed to be. The light rain and cool breeze felt amazing as I crept through the early morning. I had to keep reminding myself that it’s still summer. Goosebumps popped up along my arms several times. Mostly it was from the breeze and the light rain. A couple of times it was from the swirling shadows and silhouettes. I had to also remind myself that as far as I knew, I was alone in the dark, and unaccompanied in my exploration. It felt like a late October night night. 

The most beautiful moment happened when I took a street that I don’t normally traverse. The breeze blasted me, bringing the sound of insects and harmonious wind chimes. For some reason, I had to see the origin of the wind chimes. I was certain whoever owned them would have an oasis in the middle of and often overlooked apartment row. I was right. From the street, I could see that plants filled the stairs leading up. I could also see colored lights glowing from inside. 

As I precariously climbed in darkness. I took a literal leap of faith that I was as close to the ground as I was supposed to be. Walking back around required at least a couple of miles. I didn’t mind the extra miles, of course. I just wanted to see something different. 

When I came through the brush onto the trail, flashing lights filled the air. I held my phone up so that whoever I was approaching would know someone was coming out of the dark. 

Someone had the misfortune of being pulled over at the very end of the street where it abutts the wildness. As soon as I got past them, I saw a pair of eyes looking at me from inside the brush of Narnia. I changed the setting to video. I did not capture whatever little creature was watching me. But I did get a kaleidoscope, courtesy of the police. 

I scribbled in chalk my prediction for today’s game in a dozen places. 

I got back to the apartment a little wet and a little chilly. I wish that some days I didn’t have to sleep at all so that I could explore the imaginary world of the darkness.

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Humor

Most of y’all don’t get to see it when I amuse myself by doing my dubious quotes in Spanish. This is part of the way I keep myself entertained even when it looks like I’m doing drudgery.

¡Atrévete a ser estúpido!
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American History X

American History X

This is a thought experiment. Read the catch after the introduction.

In the 1940s, the Soviet Union conducted research in Guatemala. They infected hundreds of Guatemalans with syphilis and other sexually transmitted diseases. They used sex workers, direct injections, and even deliberate wounds to Guatemalans to directly infect them. Many never received treatment, even though penicillin was a central part of the involuntary study. The study was moved to Guatemala from a Soviet Union prison because they couldn’t effectively infect prisoners with Guatemala and needed a large-scale test environment.

Now replace “Soviet Union” with the “United States.”

It was us. Not them.

This horrendous and illegal study was hidden for 60 years.

Many people have heard of the Tuskegee experiment, which was a precursor to the Guatemalan atrocity. Those people were identified as infected but never treated. It wasn’t uncovered until 1972 when a whistleblower came forward. The Guatemalan experiment is worse because the United States government used a huge group of Guatemalans and deliberately infected them, many of whom never received treatment.

The purpose of me pointing this out is that it’s important that we understand our history. Not the history that gets whitewashed. But one that includes the warts and horrors of some of the things we have done. If we’re not aware of these things, we are participating in the ongoing likelihood that similar experiments might happen again.

None of this is a conspiracy theory. It’s all established fact. We like to think of these things as historical, as if people in our government don’t sometimes break the law and engage in horrendous behavior, justifying it by all manner of reasoning.

MKULTRA was a CIA-sponsored study that happened for 20 years, subjecting people to a variety of substances, primarily LSD. The Unabomber was part of one such study.

In 1964, the CIA secretly backed the overthrow of Brazil’s democracy, even going so far as training those involved in death squads.

In several instances, the United States government actively sterilized people without their consent.

The United States government participated in the overthrow of the democratically elected governments in Guatemala, Ecuador, Haiti, Bolivia, Chile, and the Dominican Republic, among others.

The term “banana republic” owes its origin to our participation in the active violent overthrow of a country at the behest of a corporation.

Project Sunshine. Operation Northwoods. Operation Paperclip. Operation CHAOS. COINTELPRO. The Gulf of Tonkin incident. In the 1930s, we deported a massive number of Latinos, many of whom were American citizens. We did the same thing again in the 1950s. We built concentration camps during WWII, including one here in Arkansas.

George Washington inherited slaves when he was 11. Throughout his life, he owned 500+ people. He actively worked to ensure that none of his slaves could be free. People like to excuse away this fact by pointing to the period in which he lived. There’s a fancy term to describe this type of logical fallacy in regards to ethical behavior. It’s pervasive in our society.

We’re taught the myth of the Pilgrims, and other similar groups. They weren’t trying to flee religious persecution. They were primarily intent on establishing their own at the discriminatory expense of other beliefs. Does this sound familiar to those of us in modern America?

I could go on. The purpose of all this is not the throw darts that are well deserved. It’s to remind people that secrecy in government is one of the fundamental flaws that has plagued our country. Failure to teach our flaws and choices will result in their repetition.

I’m fascinated by history. Not the history I was taught in elementary school. Rather the complex and shocking version that mirrors reality.

We should be on guard against allowing or participating in behavior that goes against our alleged dedication to freedom and human dignity. Yet, all we need to do is to follow current events to see that the beliefs we claim often contradict the reality we are permitting.

You cannot preach the “us” if you are actively vilifying people by nationality, color, sexual orientation, or religious orientation. It’s a clear warning bell that you are on the wrong side of history.

X
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Springdale Nostalgia

I had massively ornate nightmarish dreams. As a courtesy, the universe didn’t let me remember them. Instead of fighting it, I got up and within a few minutes, I was at work. Running through my duties like a madman, on a whim, I decided to drive to downtown Springdale. Even though 3 a.m. had barely made its entrance, I walked down the middle of Emma, interrupted by only one car the entire length as I walked east.

I’m glad I did. The number of temperate and beautiful early summer mornings is flying by. The walk was nostalgic because I once knew every nook and cranny of this place, down to the routines of each business, and every place where the sidewalk grew treacherous. 

This place is stunning now! Maybe not to those who pass by when they are competing with others to traverse it. But in the dark? When the only sound are the insects inhabiting the green spaces interspersed along the street. Or when the owners of Buck’s Bar can be heard shouting as they playfully gather bags of clinking beer bottles, remnants of last night’s revelry. 

When I turned onto Holcomb Street and after making two wide loops and circuits of the area, a barrage of distant sirens wailed. A wall of delicious aroma assaulted me as the wind tunnelled along the old Leon’s hair building. I was surprised to see a new building next to the old church at the corner of Grove. It’s built to look old and it’s one of my favorite styles. The polychromatic BierGarten still shines. For those of you who still live around here, I’m sure it’s become a backdrop and perhaps even banal. I wonder how many current residents don’t realize that the Lisa Academy contains all the old ghosts and stories of the original First Baptist Church. Before they modernized the spillways and drainage, an adventurous kid could brave walking along the edge and under the streets. I was one of them. 

At exactly 3:57 a.m., the wind picked up as I doubled back on Meadow. The rustle of the large tree startled me as I looked up to see the American flag flapping hard. Its leaves are drying and in under a month, they will surrender to the ground. James + James is now a memory. Part of the building is now a nice modern pool lounge. Remember when we were young in this small town? A pool table meant you damn well better be on guard. It now guarantees a multitude of delicious beer I’m just about any modern drink you might want. As I took the picture, I laughed. I know exactly what my dad would say if he were standing next to me: “Bunch of ******s.” The sushi place by the square isn’t a place I normally would like. I’ve been there once and absolutely loved it.

I hadn’t seen the new jail since it’s completion. Even that has a severe case of overachievement. I would halfway expect to see modern art hanging in the bathrooms in that place. 

Because I’m so far out of the loop, I almost fell over when I saw that Shirley’s had relocated near the railroad depot. When Springdale was nothing, I lived across the street on 48th from the house that would become Shirley’s. When the interstate hadn’t gobbled up the dirt roads and pastures that defined the beginning of West Springdale. 

I’m having a severe case of nostalgia as I walk by these places. Superimposed on all of these is an emotional and visual silhouette of what once was. From the pizza place on the downtown corner, to the old theater where I saw Swamp Thing and could easily imagine that it was lurking in the old alleys of the old Springdale. Shout out to Adrienne Barbeau, by the way. I can’t think of her without thinking of my cousin Jimmy and how enamored he was of her. She rivaled even the original Farrah Fawcett poster he had in his room for decades.

Well done, Springdale.

Perspective

Controversial Yet Logical Counterpoint:

“You never know what someone’s going through.” That’s what people tell us in a cautionary way. To give people the benefit of the doubt. There’s a lot of truth to that. But there is also a caveat, exception, and disclaimer. Assuming that someone is going through something difficult as a way to overlook bad behavior ASSUMES that you’re not going through something as bad or worse. So if you’re a witness to somebody being mistreated followed by them repaying the mistreatment equally, you also have to look the other way and give the benefit of the doubt to the second person. This is the kind of pop psychology and circular logic that leads us down unsustainable mindsets. Our energy would be better spent convincing people to self-regulate maturely instead of doing what amounts to victim blaming. In short, if you’re going to tell us to look the other way because we don’t know what someone’s going through, you also have to look the other way if we’re going through a bad time and give the first asshole what they’ve got coming. In this day of chaotic workplaces and even worse political and social frazzlement, shouldn’t we assume that everybody is having a bad day? Ergo, we can’t blame anyone. 

“An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind” is true. But equally true is this: “If we are all going through it, the safest course of action is to walk through the forest as if every leaf conceals a snake.” And while it might be the safest way, it leads to a life of guarded disconnectedness. 

As for the picture, I took a long exposure to see if the colors would emerge in the dark early hours this morning. It’s an open space hidden in plain sight, one which I sometimes use when I want to watch the sky unbroken in a panorama above me. 

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Bathroom Rainbows

I tried to snap a colorful photo of the rainbows flipping across my custom wood print in my bathroom. Instead, I got a goofy but boring snap that I illuminated. I’ve had people offer me upwards of 50 cents for this one of a kind piece of art.

I would snap a picture of my living room so that you could see the 500 rainbows streaming in due to all the prisms I have hanging outside. But the zebra won’t get out of the picture long enough for me to take one.

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