March 23rd, 2010 / 12:10 pm
Contests
Blake Butler
Contests
Win Wells Tower’s Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned
The fine folks at Macmillan have provided us with three copies of Wells Tower’s much talked about collection Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned to give away to readers. (Check out an excerpt at the link)
To enter, comment with answers to any of the following: What’s the best fire you ever saw? Best tower you ever saw? Best thing you ever burned?
Two winners will be selected for their elaboration, one will be selected at random. Entries end tomorrow evening.
Tags: everything ravaged everything burned, Wells Tower
i burned a styrofoam cup once. it smelled pretty. gimme book.
i burned a styrofoam cup once. it smelled pretty. gimme book.
1.A brush fire in Italy that mw and my uncle stamped out with tree branches and basicaly saved the entire village from burning. The skin on my face actually burned from the fire. My face was red and pink for three days.
2. All of them.
3. I forget the exact name but this yellowy hash in Amsterdam that had the consistency of cotton.
1.A brush fire in Italy that mw and my uncle stamped out with tree branches and basicaly saved the entire village from burning. The skin on my face actually burned from the fire. My face was red and pink for three days.
2. All of them.
3. I forget the exact name but this yellowy hash in Amsterdam that had the consistency of cotton.
Oh, but I already read that book. I liked the story Leopard.
Oh, but I already read that book. I liked the story Leopard.
The best tower I’ve ever seen: Eleanor’s wonderfully phallic tower ‘made of gray stone, grotesquely solid, jammed hard against the wooden side of the house’ with its veranda wrapped around it ‘like a very tight belt.’ Makes the girl in me swoon every time. Or did you want a ‘real’ tower?
The best tower I’ve ever seen: Eleanor’s wonderfully phallic tower ‘made of gray stone, grotesquely solid, jammed hard against the wooden side of the house’ with its veranda wrapped around it ‘like a very tight belt.’ Makes the girl in me swoon every time. Or did you want a ‘real’ tower?
I was once driving through the north part of the San Fernando Valley, near the foothills of the very dry-brush mountains that rim that edge of the landscape. I was probably heading home after class during grad school, as this had to have been at least ten years ago now…. Anyway. I actually got to see lightning during an electrical storm — come out of the sky and hit the ground, setting the dry brush immediately on fire. It was completely comic-book like and totally unreal. I can still see it perfectly in my head.
I was once driving through the north part of the San Fernando Valley, near the foothills of the very dry-brush mountains that rim that edge of the landscape. I was probably heading home after class during grad school, as this had to have been at least ten years ago now…. Anyway. I actually got to see lightning during an electrical storm — come out of the sky and hit the ground, setting the dry brush immediately on fire. It was completely comic-book like and totally unreal. I can still see it perfectly in my head.
I spent hours watching a Denny’s burn down in my hometown the weekend after my ex-wife-to-be dumped me, a year an a half before we were married. Felt poignant at the time, seems almost comical now.
I spent hours watching a Denny’s burn down in my hometown the weekend after my ex-wife-to-be dumped me, a year an a half before we were married. Felt poignant at the time, seems almost comical now.
I burned a coke machine once. Some friends and I stole the coke machine from behind a Walgreens and rolled it off on our skateboards to a nearby field. Then we got a tank of gas and shoved it in the hole where the cokes come out, soaked a sock in gas and hung it from the tank, then shot roman candles at it until it blew up. It burned for quite a while. I’d say that’s the best thing I’ve ever burned and best fire I ever saw…especially when all the cokes on the inside started popping.
I also burned a tv once with this crazy guy named Dusty. The colors were pretty crazy and the smell probably knocked ten years off my life.
As for towers…there’s this tower right outside of Jackson, MS. I think it’s a cell phone tower but it could easily be mistaken for a replica of the Washington Monument. It’s right of the interstate. And from a distant it looks like a KKK member wearing a cap and gown because it has two little black windows at the top that look like eye holes.
I burned a coke machine once. Some friends and I stole the coke machine from behind a Walgreens and rolled it off on our skateboards to a nearby field. Then we got a tank of gas and shoved it in the hole where the cokes come out, soaked a sock in gas and hung it from the tank, then shot roman candles at it until it blew up. It burned for quite a while. I’d say that’s the best thing I’ve ever burned and best fire I ever saw…especially when all the cokes on the inside started popping.
I also burned a tv once with this crazy guy named Dusty. The colors were pretty crazy and the smell probably knocked ten years off my life.
As for towers…there’s this tower right outside of Jackson, MS. I think it’s a cell phone tower but it could easily be mistaken for a replica of the Washington Monument. It’s right of the interstate. And from a distant it looks like a KKK member wearing a cap and gown because it has two little black windows at the top that look like eye holes.
Even if you don’t win, you should still pick up the book. Some great writing in there.
Even if you don’t win, you should still pick up the book. Some great writing in there.
The best fire I ever saw was at a pig roast held inside of a quarry, a bonfire built up beside the carved out bowl besides a hill, the wood stacked 15-20 feet high, coated in gasoline at dusk. The wife of the guy who planned the thing had climbed up onto the top of the bowl and threw a flaming brand down onto the pile to ignite it.
I have no towers to speak of.
The best thing I ever burned were patient meal cards from the turn of the century inside of an abandoned nursing home.
The best fire I ever saw was at a pig roast held inside of a quarry, a bonfire built up beside the carved out bowl besides a hill, the wood stacked 15-20 feet high, coated in gasoline at dusk. The wife of the guy who planned the thing had climbed up onto the top of the bowl and threw a flaming brand down onto the pile to ignite it.
I have no towers to speak of.
The best thing I ever burned were patient meal cards from the turn of the century inside of an abandoned nursing home.
1. 9/11 – It changed everything.
2. See 1.
3. A Tag Heuer watch my asshole bf gave me. After we broke up, I could no longer stand looking at this symbol of his indifference toward me. High as a kite, I torched it in some greasy northside Chicago alley late one October night.
1. 9/11 – It changed everything.
2. See 1.
3. A Tag Heuer watch my asshole bf gave me. After we broke up, I could no longer stand looking at this symbol of his indifference toward me. High as a kite, I torched it in some greasy northside Chicago alley late one October night.
I burned the roof of my mouth on a molten hot ‘smore when I was a kid. That was the best thing I ever burned, and it might have been the best fire I ever saw, too. No towers were involved.
I burned the roof of my mouth on a molten hot ‘smore when I was a kid. That was the best thing I ever burned, and it might have been the best fire I ever saw, too. No towers were involved.
I used to live in an old farmhouse in Olympia, WA, and just outside the garden was a fire ring for bonfires. One night, I threw my only pair of shoes in the fire and my friend took off her dress and tossed it in after my shoes, then we got the idea to see how long we could keep our feet in the fire. Now, despite living in different states, we unwittingly run into each other in different places, like Powell’s City of Books and southern California. Before I moved from that house, I doused a leather recliner in lighter fluid and burned it down to charred springs, but it wasn’t the same. My feet are still the best thing I ever burned.
I used to live in an old farmhouse in Olympia, WA, and just outside the garden was a fire ring for bonfires. One night, I threw my only pair of shoes in the fire and my friend took off her dress and tossed it in after my shoes, then we got the idea to see how long we could keep our feet in the fire. Now, despite living in different states, we unwittingly run into each other in different places, like Powell’s City of Books and southern California. Before I moved from that house, I doused a leather recliner in lighter fluid and burned it down to charred springs, but it wasn’t the same. My feet are still the best thing I ever burned.
i set my mom’s backyard in mexico on fire once. i meant to just burn the underbrush of a yucca tree because i was too lazy to hack it apart with a machete but the whole thing lit up in seconds & all sorts of birds & animals & insects came pouring out of it then all the townsfolk came running with buckets of water. This qualifies for 1 & 3.
The best tower is Tricouni Nail [a.k.a Cerberus] in the Black Hills of South Dakota. you have to simul-rap to get off.
A week before I graduated high school, the school principal [who’d then recently converted to, uh, Born Again Christianity (?)] thought it would be oh-so-fun to bring the graduating batch to a Christian retreat midway up a mountain. Hug it out with each other, and Jesus, and all that.
The first night, after dinner, after preliminary prayers, and group dynamics–we were all at the picnic area, and it was almost fun. Big, open sky and all that. I was half-in my tent, getting ready to line up for a bath. And then the whole place exploded. Fine–first it shook, there was this piercing quiet, and *then* it exploded.
The retreat house, the first half of the picnic area, the lamppost that stood five meters where the tent stood. In different stages of burning and destruction. I spent ten seconds just watching the chaos, feet bare in the grass, towel slung over my shoulder, underwear crumpled in my fist. There was an odd bright cloud above the retreat house. I could see the bushes that delineated the picnic area singed. The lamppost above me was swaying. Everything smelled like shit.
Managed to move my ass when the class president started shaking me, screaming “Putangina mo! Tara!” Which roughly translates to “Your mother is a whore! Let’s go!”
Great night. Waiting for the firemen to get up the mountain, someone handed me a cigarette. First cigarette I ever lit. Sometime during the long night, someone lent me shoes.
i set my mom’s backyard in mexico on fire once. i meant to just burn the underbrush of a yucca tree because i was too lazy to hack it apart with a machete but the whole thing lit up in seconds & all sorts of birds & animals & insects came pouring out of it then all the townsfolk came running with buckets of water. This qualifies for 1 & 3.
The best tower is Tricouni Nail [a.k.a Cerberus] in the Black Hills of South Dakota. you have to simul-rap to get off.
A week before I graduated high school, the school principal [who’d then recently converted to, uh, Born Again Christianity (?)] thought it would be oh-so-fun to bring the graduating batch to a Christian retreat midway up a mountain. Hug it out with each other, and Jesus, and all that.
The first night, after dinner, after preliminary prayers, and group dynamics–we were all at the picnic area, and it was almost fun. Big, open sky and all that. I was half-in my tent, getting ready to line up for a bath. And then the whole place exploded. Fine–first it shook, there was this piercing quiet, and *then* it exploded.
The retreat house, the first half of the picnic area, the lamppost that stood five meters where the tent stood. In different stages of burning and destruction. I spent ten seconds just watching the chaos, feet bare in the grass, towel slung over my shoulder, underwear crumpled in my fist. There was an odd bright cloud above the retreat house. I could see the bushes that delineated the picnic area singed. The lamppost above me was swaying. Everything smelled like shit.
Managed to move my ass when the class president started shaking me, screaming “Putangina mo! Tara!” Which roughly translates to “Your mother is a whore! Let’s go!”
Great night. Waiting for the firemen to get up the mountain, someone handed me a cigarette. First cigarette I ever lit. Sometime during the long night, someone lent me shoes.
That’s awesome.
Best fire: the former country mansion of John Hertz (founder of both Yellow Cab and Hertz Rent-a-Car) in my hometown, which somebody torched on a cold winter night when I was about 6. The heat was so intense that you could barely stand across the street while it burned. Best tower: one of the steeples of the Cologne Cathedral, which I once climbed (500+ steps is tougher than it sounds). Best thing I ever burned: a gummy bear in a microwave. Try it sometime.
That’s awesome.
Best fire: the former country mansion of John Hertz (founder of both Yellow Cab and Hertz Rent-a-Car) in my hometown, which somebody torched on a cold winter night when I was about 6. The heat was so intense that you could barely stand across the street while it burned. Best tower: one of the steeples of the Cologne Cathedral, which I once climbed (500+ steps is tougher than it sounds). Best thing I ever burned: a gummy bear in a microwave. Try it sometime.
One time I set fire to a tower and tossed it in the bottom of a well. It looked pretty cool.
Great book, although I still kind of liked his first (ie last) story the most.
One time I set fire to a tower and tossed it in the bottom of a well. It looked pretty cool.
Great book, although I still kind of liked his first (ie last) story the most.
best fire- dinosaur national monument in utah working as a backcountry ranger on the green river a lightning strike struck beside the fire cache and set it ablaze
best tower- Bill Murry buying grateful dead cd’s at tower records in 1989
best fire lit- my beard
best fire- dinosaur national monument in utah working as a backcountry ranger on the green river a lightning strike struck beside the fire cache and set it ablaze
best tower- Bill Murry buying grateful dead cd’s at tower records in 1989
best fire lit- my beard
1- While driving through Canada once, there was a car-be-que on the side of the road surrounded by people warming their hands with the flames. I love Canadians.
2-BromoSeltzer Tower
1- While driving through Canada once, there was a car-be-que on the side of the road surrounded by people warming their hands with the flames. I love Canadians.
2-BromoSeltzer Tower
When I was a kid, I read a story about how Indians felled trees by putting a ring of clay around them and burning out the bottom. In the story, they felled a tree to carve a canoe out of the thing, again by burning and scraping at the insides.
Well, I tried that. It didn’t work..
Or, well, it did, but I didn’t need a small forest’s worth of canoes…
When I was a kid, I read a story about how Indians felled trees by putting a ring of clay around them and burning out the bottom. In the story, they felled a tree to carve a canoe out of the thing, again by burning and scraping at the insides.
Well, I tried that. It didn’t work..
Or, well, it did, but I didn’t need a small forest’s worth of canoes…
In Latvia, to celebrate the summer solstice, they have a festival called Jani. Everyone goes into the woods and a bonfire is lit. The bonfire has to stay lit until the sun comes up. Everyone jumps over it for good luck. Everything smells of smoke and beer. Hems catch fire.
In Latvia, to celebrate the summer solstice, they have a festival called Jani. Everyone goes into the woods and a bonfire is lit. The bonfire has to stay lit until the sun comes up. Everyone jumps over it for good luck. Everything smells of smoke and beer. Hems catch fire.
Best Fire – when I was just getting started in advertising I went on a retreat with a large agency here in Chicago. It was a drunken, football, poker playing and porn riddled weekend. It was hot out, late summer, early fall, but cooled off at night. I started to build a bonfire, by pushing down dead trees that were standing in the forest. My shirt came off, tan and coated in sweat, I dragged the trees out into the field, and put them in a circle. Slowly I build up the pyramid of wood, using smaller and smaller wood, from the ten inches around trees down to one inch twigs. I then proceeded to stand there as the sun set, snapping dry twigs and filling up the pyramid so that by the time it was dark, several people had joined me, and the pyramid, now over six feet tall, stood filled with dry kindling. I wondered if it would light. We stuffed some newspaper into the bottom, and light the fire. It caught fire fast, as everything was dry to the bone, and filled the chimney with a hot blaze twenty feet into the air, a crackle and snap riddled flume of fire, as if a small engine was chugging down the tracks.
Best Tower – Not too long after this bonfire, I ended up one night on top of the Marina Towers, late at night, flying high on hallucinogens. We stood at the rail, allowed secret access by slipping the guard, a friend of ours, a handful of pills and a pint of cheap bourbon. My friends, my bisexual, nymphomaniac girlfriend, and I, we stared at the traffic moving in and out the city like red blood cells, the blur of lights creating a stream of multi-colored veins, hypnotizing. For a moment I wondered what it would be like to fly, the impact of the cement below.
Best Thing I Ever Burned – As a young boy scout, we went camping in St. Louis at Beaumont. It was a great camp, with a series of caves at the north end, tunnels that went deeper than we dared to brave, a small lake where we swam with buddies, and fires at night, cooking beans, and hot dogs, burning bread, staring into the flickering flames. One day a friend and I wandered off to the woods. We explored and found a secret campsite, a small pond with miniature leaping frogs, and an old pile of coals. We had matches, and decided to make small fire. We were breaking rules, and that’s what felt good. As dinner approached, we kicked dirt onto the tiny fire, and walked back to camp. Later that night we were told we had to evacuate the campgrounds, there was a forest fire. As we drove out of the camp, I turned back to the right, to the place we’d been earlier. Trees were blazing, fire trucks lined up, hoses out, shovels of dirt, fire lines being dug, as the woods lit up with red and orange. Part of me felt nauseas and guilty. But part of me liked the destruction.
Best Fire – when I was just getting started in advertising I went on a retreat with a large agency here in Chicago. It was a drunken, football, poker playing and porn riddled weekend. It was hot out, late summer, early fall, but cooled off at night. I started to build a bonfire, by pushing down dead trees that were standing in the forest. My shirt came off, tan and coated in sweat, I dragged the trees out into the field, and put them in a circle. Slowly I build up the pyramid of wood, using smaller and smaller wood, from the ten inches around trees down to one inch twigs. I then proceeded to stand there as the sun set, snapping dry twigs and filling up the pyramid so that by the time it was dark, several people had joined me, and the pyramid, now over six feet tall, stood filled with dry kindling. I wondered if it would light. We stuffed some newspaper into the bottom, and light the fire. It caught fire fast, as everything was dry to the bone, and filled the chimney with a hot blaze twenty feet into the air, a crackle and snap riddled flume of fire, as if a small engine was chugging down the tracks.
Best Tower – Not too long after this bonfire, I ended up one night on top of the Marina Towers, late at night, flying high on hallucinogens. We stood at the rail, allowed secret access by slipping the guard, a friend of ours, a handful of pills and a pint of cheap bourbon. My friends, my bisexual, nymphomaniac girlfriend, and I, we stared at the traffic moving in and out the city like red blood cells, the blur of lights creating a stream of multi-colored veins, hypnotizing. For a moment I wondered what it would be like to fly, the impact of the cement below.
Best Thing I Ever Burned – As a young boy scout, we went camping in St. Louis at Beaumont. It was a great camp, with a series of caves at the north end, tunnels that went deeper than we dared to brave, a small lake where we swam with buddies, and fires at night, cooking beans, and hot dogs, burning bread, staring into the flickering flames. One day a friend and I wandered off to the woods. We explored and found a secret campsite, a small pond with miniature leaping frogs, and an old pile of coals. We had matches, and decided to make small fire. We were breaking rules, and that’s what felt good. As dinner approached, we kicked dirt onto the tiny fire, and walked back to camp. Later that night we were told we had to evacuate the campgrounds, there was a forest fire. As we drove out of the camp, I turned back to the right, to the place we’d been earlier. Trees were blazing, fire trucks lined up, hoses out, shovels of dirt, fire lines being dug, as the woods lit up with red and orange. Part of me felt nauseas and guilty. But part of me liked the destruction.
I’ve seen both Bonzi and Bubba Wells on fire.
(Mark Leidner’s WILLIE: “–swish. I’m on fire.”)
I’ve seen both Bonzi and Bubba Wells on fire.
(Mark Leidner’s WILLIE: “–swish. I’m on fire.”)
The best tower I ever saw was on this camping trip I took with my family when I was around seven years old. Someone had stacked round stones upon one another, almost reaching my height. Must have taken forever to get them to stay. And without hesitation, I knocked it over.
The best tower I ever saw was on this camping trip I took with my family when I was around seven years old. Someone had stacked round stones upon one another, almost reaching my height. Must have taken forever to get them to stay. And without hesitation, I knocked it over.
My paternal grandparents moved into a new house when I was maybe 8 or so. To celebrate, they had a bonfire-type thing at the house. The house was previously inhabited by an old man, who left behind a garage/shed/workshop area filled with junk. My grandfather was going through the junk and found a coffee can filled with pungent liquid. He wasn’t sure what it was, and his method of finding out was “dump it on the fire.” Whatever it was (maybe 50%+ gasoline?) exploded into a giant fireball. My grandmother was distraught, but my grandfather was extremely pleased with himself. Best fire I ever saw.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen an honest-to-god tower in person, but I did see Tower Falls when I went to Yellowstone, if that counts. You can get pretty close to the falls. In the little area the path leads down to it seems like it’s lightly raining all the time. My sister had her picture taken standing on top of the big wooden rails that prevent you from going into the water. I was too scared to stand on top of them. My picture was taken in a math contest t-shirt with a fish on it. I still have the shirt. My first semester of college I wore it (when you give away math contest shirts the appropriate sizes go quickly, so I always got ones that were too big for my 4th/5th/6th grade frame) and a guy in a lecture with me got excited because he had been to the same contest. We didn’t know each other.
I haven’t set many things on fire. In the summer when I was 7 I spent most of my time with my sister and my first cousin at our grandparents’ house while my mom worked. My grandmother also worked during the day, but my grandfather worked a night shift somewhere, so he slept during the day, but we could get him if we needed him. Otherwise we mostly did what we wanted. One day we started a small fire in the field and cooked hot dogs on an iron grate we found. Nothing bad happened, we finished the hot dogs, put water in a bucket and put out the fire. We decided to keep it a secret because we didn’t want to get in trouble for starting a fire. The first thing my cousin did when my grandmother and mom were in the room together was tell them both about cooking the hotdogs. We didn’t get in trouble. Nothing bad happened.
My paternal grandparents moved into a new house when I was maybe 8 or so. To celebrate, they had a bonfire-type thing at the house. The house was previously inhabited by an old man, who left behind a garage/shed/workshop area filled with junk. My grandfather was going through the junk and found a coffee can filled with pungent liquid. He wasn’t sure what it was, and his method of finding out was “dump it on the fire.” Whatever it was (maybe 50%+ gasoline?) exploded into a giant fireball. My grandmother was distraught, but my grandfather was extremely pleased with himself. Best fire I ever saw.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen an honest-to-god tower in person, but I did see Tower Falls when I went to Yellowstone, if that counts. You can get pretty close to the falls. In the little area the path leads down to it seems like it’s lightly raining all the time. My sister had her picture taken standing on top of the big wooden rails that prevent you from going into the water. I was too scared to stand on top of them. My picture was taken in a math contest t-shirt with a fish on it. I still have the shirt. My first semester of college I wore it (when you give away math contest shirts the appropriate sizes go quickly, so I always got ones that were too big for my 4th/5th/6th grade frame) and a guy in a lecture with me got excited because he had been to the same contest. We didn’t know each other.
I haven’t set many things on fire. In the summer when I was 7 I spent most of my time with my sister and my first cousin at our grandparents’ house while my mom worked. My grandmother also worked during the day, but my grandfather worked a night shift somewhere, so he slept during the day, but we could get him if we needed him. Otherwise we mostly did what we wanted. One day we started a small fire in the field and cooked hot dogs on an iron grate we found. Nothing bad happened, we finished the hot dogs, put water in a bucket and put out the fire. We decided to keep it a secret because we didn’t want to get in trouble for starting a fire. The first thing my cousin did when my grandmother and mom were in the room together was tell them both about cooking the hotdogs. We didn’t get in trouble. Nothing bad happened.
I burnt a GI Joe with a soldering iron as a kid. Really you could say I melted him down but still I bored a heat source into his torso and his legs and smoke was coiling up thin and dark and the smell was terrible. In fact just the other day I wondered if I breathed enough toxic shit into myself to be damaging. If some vaporized portion of that GI Joe lodged in my sinuses and slowly tumorized.
I burnt a GI Joe with a soldering iron as a kid. Really you could say I melted him down but still I bored a heat source into his torso and his legs and smoke was coiling up thin and dark and the smell was terrible. In fact just the other day I wondered if I breathed enough toxic shit into myself to be damaging. If some vaporized portion of that GI Joe lodged in my sinuses and slowly tumorized.
A plastic grocery bag on top of a parking meter in NYC. Ravaged, burned.
A plastic grocery bag on top of a parking meter in NYC. Ravaged, burned.
the four of us spent our senior years pilfering closets and classrooms ridding the school of as many textbooks as we could. we actually were a little chicken and made out with only five or so books each. except for this kid we called westnuts. he was the first of us to have a mustache and he found a room that housed “the books that changed the world” – at the time our most hated volume. he took no less than twenty over the course of several weeks. on the last day of school we took our duffel bags of books out to ben’s house and burned them in a big ceremonial bonfire. it’s something we only slightly regret now.
the four of us spent our senior years pilfering closets and classrooms ridding the school of as many textbooks as we could. we actually were a little chicken and made out with only five or so books each. except for this kid we called westnuts. he was the first of us to have a mustache and he found a room that housed “the books that changed the world” – at the time our most hated volume. he took no less than twenty over the course of several weeks. on the last day of school we took our duffel bags of books out to ben’s house and burned them in a big ceremonial bonfire. it’s something we only slightly regret now.
I was in the woods near Philadelphia, Mississippi. There were paths everywhere under the canopies of the evergreens; they led to overturned trucks, clearings, and homes with broken trampolines. I made markers with sticks so I wouldn’t get lost. I kept stepping on mud and beetles and I had sap in my hair. I was sticky hot and almost lost and about to turn back when I came across an old observation tower on a hill. I could see blackbirds circling the tower like carrion. It was rusted and it swayed in the wind more than the trees did. I started to climb the wooden steps.
I noticed that the tower was falling apart, rusty flake by rusty flake, which came off in my hands. I smelled the blood and the hemoglobin on my palms and continued. The birds sometimes landed atop the tower with a clang of heavy chain on tin. The tower flinched under their weight. Halfway up I could only see rolling trees on hills and the Mississippi Band of Choctaw Casino. I was cold, but not from the weather. Level to a bird, I swear I saw it turn its eye and keep it on me during his orbits around the tower. The bird’s wingspan was enormous up close.
I continued another two flights when I saw that the steps above me were gone. The boards had either burned or desiccated to nothing in time. I imagined slipping and falling through in an ugly mess of tangled limbs awkwardly rolling down the narrow steps. Broken ankles and broken wrists. Sweating in anger and pain. Watching the blackbirds orbit me without giving a damn. I felt my heart in my neck.
I started back slow and ginger, back down the steps. My shoes were absorbed into the ground, grateful to the earth. I ran over sticks in the shapes of arrows to get back to the main road. I didn’t look up again.
I was in the woods near Philadelphia, Mississippi. There were paths everywhere under the canopies of the evergreens; they led to overturned trucks, clearings, and homes with broken trampolines. I made markers with sticks so I wouldn’t get lost. I kept stepping on mud and beetles and I had sap in my hair. I was sticky hot and almost lost and about to turn back when I came across an old observation tower on a hill. I could see blackbirds circling the tower like carrion. It was rusted and it swayed in the wind more than the trees did. I started to climb the wooden steps.
I noticed that the tower was falling apart, rusty flake by rusty flake, which came off in my hands. I smelled the blood and the hemoglobin on my palms and continued. The birds sometimes landed atop the tower with a clang of heavy chain on tin. The tower flinched under their weight. Halfway up I could only see rolling trees on hills and the Mississippi Band of Choctaw Casino. I was cold, but not from the weather. Level to a bird, I swear I saw it turn its eye and keep it on me during his orbits around the tower. The bird’s wingspan was enormous up close.
I continued another two flights when I saw that the steps above me were gone. The boards had either burned or desiccated to nothing in time. I imagined slipping and falling through in an ugly mess of tangled limbs awkwardly rolling down the narrow steps. Broken ankles and broken wrists. Sweating in anger and pain. Watching the blackbirds orbit me without giving a damn. I felt my heart in my neck.
I started back slow and ginger, back down the steps. My shoes were absorbed into the ground, grateful to the earth. I ran over sticks in the shapes of arrows to get back to the main road. I didn’t look up again.
As a kid, I set fire to Grizzlor, the He-Man enemy with “real hair” on his plastic body. The hair curled and blackened, sticking to poor Grizzlor’s like a shag carpet of napalm. The smell was all chemicals and coal truck burps. I cried after I was finished because I really dug Grizzlor. It’s true about hurting the things you love.
As a kid, I set fire to Grizzlor, the He-Man enemy with “real hair” on his plastic body. The hair curled and blackened, sticking to poor Grizzlor’s like a shag carpet of napalm. The smell was all chemicals and coal truck burps. I cried after I was finished because I really dug Grizzlor. It’s true about hurting the things you love.
The best thing I ever burned was Elmo. He was my favorite stuffed animal as a kid, and one day he got a little wet, so I decided to blow-dry him, obviously. I held the hair dryer right up to his stomach for a couple of seconds, and then something smelled weird, and when I pulled the hair dryer away, all of his stomach hair had been burned off, leaving an ashy hole exposing his stomach stuffing. Poor guy. He still sits in my old bedroom to scare away any intruders and small children.
And, the best tower I ever saw was the TV Tower in Prague, because, hello, soooo creepy:
http://www.lexikonhospod.cz/pic/TV_Vez4.jpg
The best thing I ever burned was Elmo. He was my favorite stuffed animal as a kid, and one day he got a little wet, so I decided to blow-dry him, obviously. I held the hair dryer right up to his stomach for a couple of seconds, and then something smelled weird, and when I pulled the hair dryer away, all of his stomach hair had been burned off, leaving an ashy hole exposing his stomach stuffing. Poor guy. He still sits in my old bedroom to scare away any intruders and small children.
And, the best tower I ever saw was the TV Tower in Prague, because, hello, soooo creepy:
http://www.lexikonhospod.cz/pic/TV_Vez4.jpg
That tower is visible from my parents’ house. I’ve never noticed the KKK resemblance though. I’ll be on the look out next time. There’s also a cell phone tower in the same area that is disguised as a giant tree. It’s not very convincing.
That tower is visible from my parents’ house. I’ve never noticed the KKK resemblance though. I’ll be on the look out next time. There’s also a cell phone tower in the same area that is disguised as a giant tree. It’s not very convincing.
I burned so many CD’s for girls in high school, and none of them got me laid.
I burned so many CD’s for girls in high school, and none of them got me laid.
i
burned
the
SHIT out of the inside of my elbow with the top of a curling iron one evening while i was trying to get ready for a formal. it’s a darkish tan. it has light spots in it and looks like the cross-section of a polish sausage. that was last year, and i have not had sex since that night so i have not had an opportunity to try out a thing i thought of where i pretend that it is my favorite erogenous zone and see if he bites, but if i get the book i will let you know. also Steve i have microwaved a CD, watching that shit is delightful, you should try that instead.
i
burned
the
SHIT out of the inside of my elbow with the top of a curling iron one evening while i was trying to get ready for a formal. it’s a darkish tan. it has light spots in it and looks like the cross-section of a polish sausage. that was last year, and i have not had sex since that night so i have not had an opportunity to try out a thing i thought of where i pretend that it is my favorite erogenous zone and see if he bites, but if i get the book i will let you know. also Steve i have microwaved a CD, watching that shit is delightful, you should try that instead.
by the “it” that is darkish tan, i mean the scar left by the burning. sorry.
by the “it” that is darkish tan, i mean the scar left by the burning. sorry.
I came home from the Iowa state fair one night and there was a van (not mine) on fire in my front yard. The gas tank exploded just as I pulled up.
The best tower is the water tower in my hometown where I used to sit and get high with my friends and dream about how rad the 80’s were going to be. No wait. That wasn’t my hometown. That was “Dazed and Confused.”
the warts off my genitals.
I came home from the Iowa state fair one night and there was a van (not mine) on fire in my front yard. The gas tank exploded just as I pulled up.
The best tower is the water tower in my hometown where I used to sit and get high with my friends and dream about how rad the 80’s were going to be. No wait. That wasn’t my hometown. That was “Dazed and Confused.”
the warts off my genitals.
What about best thing you ever ravaged? Why no book for answering that?
What about best thing you ever ravaged? Why no book for answering that?
do it up yeh
do it up yeh
Well, would it be too much to say that the best thing I ever ravaged also resulted in the best tower I ever saw? Which, coincidentally enough, also resulted in the best fire I saw, as well as best thing I ever burned?
(Yes, it would be too much.)
Well, would it be too much to say that the best thing I ever ravaged also resulted in the best tower I ever saw? Which, coincidentally enough, also resulted in the best fire I saw, as well as best thing I ever burned?
(Yes, it would be too much.)
also:
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Kf_FfBh3dA/S6nQ-kUfcSI/AAAAAAAAAhY/jcVD5Acu0G4/s1600/jimmy+chen+trifecta.jpg
also:
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9Kf_FfBh3dA/S6nQ-kUfcSI/AAAAAAAAAhY/jcVD5Acu0G4/s1600/jimmy+chen+trifecta.jpg
damn dude, empty your inbox.
damn dude, empty your inbox.
Helped hold a bonfire once in the northwoods of Wisconsin built under, over and around a cracked pool table, and the flames reached up close to the highest tree branches. Thankfully it was in a clearing. I was with a bunch of stupid Boy Scout kids, so what do we expect?
Helped hold a bonfire once in the northwoods of Wisconsin built under, over and around a cracked pool table, and the flames reached up close to the highest tree branches. Thankfully it was in a clearing. I was with a bunch of stupid Boy Scout kids, so what do we expect?
after mom left, my dad burned the fields by our house. he stood at the edge of the flames shirtless with a can of fuel oil. i yelled ‘what are you doing’ and he said ‘its very pagan.’ he burned the field to black stubble.
after mom left, my dad burned the fields by our house. he stood at the edge of the flames shirtless with a can of fuel oil. i yelled ‘what are you doing’ and he said ‘its very pagan.’ he burned the field to black stubble.
Best Fire I Ever Saw: Blaise Pascal. He was ablaze.
Best Tower I’ve Ever Seen: The Tower of Babel; the only thing I have ever really understood.
Best Thing I’ve Ever Burned: An insurance company, but I can’t go into the details.
Best Fire I Ever Saw: Blaise Pascal. He was ablaze.
Best Tower I’ve Ever Seen: The Tower of Babel; the only thing I have ever really understood.
Best Thing I’ve Ever Burned: An insurance company, but I can’t go into the details.
ha, i know
ha, i know
What’s the best fire you ever saw? My brother and I would stack wooden pallets twenty or thirty high and there would be nine or ten of these stacks arranged in a rectangular shape and upon our fortress of pallets we would fashion a roof of cardboard. We would build these within the hundreds of thousands of pallet stacks, some stacks reaching as high as one hundred pallets, of my Uncle’s pallet farm and from within our pallet palace we would throw rocks at the working men as they walked from their vehicles to the shop on their way to work or from the shop to their vehicles to get lunch or from the vehicles to the shop after a cigarette break, etc. Mostly they enjoyed the occasional, painless onslaughts because we were young ruffians and anyway, they could never be sure where exactly we were within the stacks. The pallet farm was in the business of repair and reselling discarded pallets and from those discarded pallets, irreparable wood would be discarded onto a steadily growing heap on the outskirts of the four-acre farm. At the end of the summer, my Uncle set blaze to this massive heap of rejected, mangled wood and we roasted hot dogs and marshmallows on it for a time. There was a lot of wood though and eventually it was too hot to stand near and eventually the wind started to blow harder than it does normally and eventually a stack of pristine, well built pallets caught flames and the whole pallet farm burned to the ground. We stayed up all night with the fireman and my Uncle and my father watching as tens of thousands of pallets burned to the ground. By the next day, it was just a scorched plot of land in the Amish countryside of Ohio.
Best tower you ever saw? At the age of two, Isaac thought nothing was more spectacularly inconceivable as a tower teetering. He would take his building blocks and stack them as high as he could, holding his breath as it grew in height so as not to cause a premature collapse. I would watch him from the kitchen table and occasionally I would ask him how he was doing. “I’m building a tower,” is all he would say. On the occasion of a particular frustrating morning of tower building, he approached me and said, “Dad, will you help me build a tower?” Together we assembled a teetering tower for the ages two Isaac lengths tall and at this point the tower had to fall and it was he who befell it, his tower fascination had reached it’s peak and it was dinosaurs and Godzilla that captured his fancy thereafter.
Best thing you ever burned? Cigarette smoking makes me feel like a dragon, suck in fire blow out smoke. Each strike of a match or flick of the lighter is a momentous event of burning chemically treated paper and additive stuffed tobacco, just as God intended.
What’s the best fire you ever saw? My brother and I would stack wooden pallets twenty or thirty high and there would be nine or ten of these stacks arranged in a rectangular shape and upon our fortress of pallets we would fashion a roof of cardboard. We would build these within the hundreds of thousands of pallet stacks, some stacks reaching as high as one hundred pallets, of my Uncle’s pallet farm and from within our pallet palace we would throw rocks at the working men as they walked from their vehicles to the shop on their way to work or from the shop to their vehicles to get lunch or from the vehicles to the shop after a cigarette break, etc. Mostly they enjoyed the occasional, painless onslaughts because we were young ruffians and anyway, they could never be sure where exactly we were within the stacks. The pallet farm was in the business of repair and reselling discarded pallets and from those discarded pallets, irreparable wood would be discarded onto a steadily growing heap on the outskirts of the four-acre farm. At the end of the summer, my Uncle set blaze to this massive heap of rejected, mangled wood and we roasted hot dogs and marshmallows on it for a time. There was a lot of wood though and eventually it was too hot to stand near and eventually the wind started to blow harder than it does normally and eventually a stack of pristine, well built pallets caught flames and the whole pallet farm burned to the ground. We stayed up all night with the fireman and my Uncle and my father watching as tens of thousands of pallets burned to the ground. By the next day, it was just a scorched plot of land in the Amish countryside of Ohio.
Best tower you ever saw? At the age of two, Isaac thought nothing was more spectacularly inconceivable as a tower teetering. He would take his building blocks and stack them as high as he could, holding his breath as it grew in height so as not to cause a premature collapse. I would watch him from the kitchen table and occasionally I would ask him how he was doing. “I’m building a tower,” is all he would say. On the occasion of a particular frustrating morning of tower building, he approached me and said, “Dad, will you help me build a tower?” Together we assembled a teetering tower for the ages two Isaac lengths tall and at this point the tower had to fall and it was he who befell it, his tower fascination had reached it’s peak and it was dinosaurs and Godzilla that captured his fancy thereafter.
Best thing you ever burned? Cigarette smoking makes me feel like a dragon, suck in fire blow out smoke. Each strike of a match or flick of the lighter is a momentous event of burning chemically treated paper and additive stuffed tobacco, just as God intended.
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