Maury The Decadent Lounge Lizard

Maury, the decadent lounge lizard:

“Decadence“,

the word crawled out of his mouth like a spider

Maury lit his two dollar cigar and struggled for a lighter in the pocket of his baby blue leisure suit

Tossed a cigarette stub that he incidentally found in between the cushions of the cheap red couch as he sunk in

“I prefer to say I have a general sense of exuberance for life ya'know?”

He tapped the ash of his cigar onto a cat that lay on the floor, which didn't even care to writhe – it sat stoically.

“Thats my cat, Cohiba Behike”

I grew uneasy and tried to express nonchalance

“He likes it” he croaked a laugh

“Cohiba is one exemplary animal – aint ya Cohi”

He said as he rubbed the ash into the cat's soft fur

There was an uncomfortable silence,

Maury sat up

“This hotel is run by my progeny you know”

he said brusquely

“The manager is my first, and the kid who cleans the pool is my godson”

I stared blankly,

“They are so goddamn effervescent, ya'know”

Maury let smoke slowly excape his lips and a tear rolled down his cheek

LOVE ;)

I had an affinity for blondes
Yet when I met you, I was captivated by your luscious brown locks
There was a deep, rich opulence in your eyes
A melancholy expression, as if you had given up on love
The effervescence drained out of you by too many heartbreaks
But there was a piercing, sagacious look in your eyes that shined through
I feel a surge of adrenaline pump through my veins when you’re near
The proximity of your lips is overwhelmingly
I have a voracious appetite for you
And although the phrase “I love you” is so very hackneyed
I don’t get tired of hearing you say you love me
And when you walk away, I smile with a cool nonchalance
Only to sit in the corner later, tears unable to give justice to the morose feeling in my chest
I could not supplant you with another love

The Crazy Lady

She was effervescent, but dispassionate to everyone she met
Every move she made was a surreptitious plan
that made the people surrounding her writhe
under her incidental effects
indefatigable under the strongest pressure
She was always dressed in prodigal clothes
even when she was left insolvent.
Then one day she was gone
and her decadent life left a massive hole in the earth
where the misanthropes gathered together
to finally make their progeny

Love

I knew there was something wrong from the morose look he had on his face
When I asked what was wrong he replied with a brusque answer “nothing”
He isn’t a dispassionate person or misanthrope for that matter

When we’re together its exuberance
Prodigal
We were coalesced together for a reason and it was exemplary
He decadenced me when I tried to figure out what was wrong
Something was wrong with that morose look he had on his face


He is brusque, I am courteous
I am exuberant; I greet everything with a smile
He is dispassionate; he greets everything with a grimace
I love him- does he love me?
He is a misanthrope; always pushing people away
And if he doesn’t try to, his moroseness will
He is stoic; he feels no pain, no discomfort
But I know that surreptitiously, he does
He is parsimonious; I am prodigal
I buy everything; he buys nothing
I will soon be insolvent
Why do I keep trying to buy his love?
He will never love me the way I love him
Life isn’t that simple
I just have to keep breathing, keep trying, keep going


The nonchalance of a womens hair
is the progeny of her father
yet she is stoic in the light of distress
while i writhe in the seat of a movie theatre
yet i was parsimonious so there is no popcorn
with the brusqueness of a goodbye
i am no longer dispassionate
yet indefatigable because while she is just one
there are many others, no reason to be a misanthrope
or to be morose
because i am the exemplay human
i have exuberance, I have progeny
and i am voracious
however, i am insolvent
but i am prodigal


Love

Your smile is nonchalant, indefatigable, and voracious.

All at once it hits me, like a sucker-punch to the kisser.

It sucks me in greedily, it never ends, only to gleam at me casually-as if I mean nothing.

I put on a stoic face, I act dispassionate.

But god, I’m writhing in my skin.

Every bone twists and cracks and splits.

It’s hipster and cliché and parsimonious how I act and feel when I’m without you.

And all I need is that one little smirk, slipped to me surreptitiously.

I’m insolvent when it comes you.

I’ll never cash-in, I’ll always be prodigal.

A poem about love

Two opposites on a morose night.
An awful night, their stoic nature gives them light
Their effervescence turns the fog into a the most beautiful time of day in Prague.
The opposites nonchalance is beautiful. Their is no decadence.
They show an exemplary exuberance just to be together.
They keep their love a surreptitious one.
That night goes on forever, the two are indefatigable. Together all night long.
It was a prodigal time for the two of them. Together for only a night.

Vocab poem-Charlie Segar

Passed down to progeny,
Surrounded by an indefatigable exuberance,
Sailing is a past time.
A voracious desire to escape morose and spend time on the water runs in my family.
All five uncles coalesce to make an exemplary fleet.
Their inability to sit still makes them writhe with impatience,
itching for the opportunity to make a surreptitious escape to the water.

The Cat Lady

My neighbor next door is a morose misanthrope.
If you ring her doorbell, her icy, stoic nature will envelop you.
It seems as if there is no exuberance in her life.
However, there is one pleasure.
Her cats: her progeny.
She is the ultimate cat lady; dispassionate in everything else.
Although she is practically insolvent, she is never parsimonious when it comes to her cats.
When the cats play, she writhes on the floor with them.
She coalesces when they eat.
Some days I see her in the window wearing cat ears and a tail.
The cat lady is becoming a cat.

Love

Sometimes it is just fine
To shed the nonchalance
To drop the dispassionate stares
To evict the misanthropic tendency
Sometimes it is just fine
To love

Let yourself roll in it
Consume, with a voracious appetite
That which you love
Let yourself be indefatigable
Let you and your love coalesce
Into a new you

Do not be afraid to indulge
Decadence is not a crime in love
Those who are parsimonious have lost
Those who fear of insolvency in old age
A lack and drought of love
Having burned the jets for so long
Cannot make it far enough

And last of all
Do not simply love
But love deeply
Flaunt it
To be surreptitious
Is to be the one hushing the crowd
At a Stones concert

Cats

Let me be brusque with you

Cats are never incidental

That is true

Cats bring exemplary exuberance

But of course you already knew

My love for cats will never be indefatigable

Please do not argue

When having a morose day cats will make it go away

I have named mine Andrew

Cats are highly stoic creatures

Cats are the best here is a clue

Might as well call cats a prodigal gift

If you have a cat you won’t become insolvent

No need to worry about being voracious

There are plenty of cats to go around!

Scribe Post 1/19/11

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TemK6CF6lF0&feature=related

Yesterday, brave Beaver Country Day children trekked into the unknown. Some call it vast, some call it beautiful, others call it dangerous, but to Joe Kavalier it is simply Antarctica. In part 5 of Kavalier and Clay, Chabon decides to focus on Joe and his life in the Navy at a base in Antarctica. While Joe isn’t fighting arms to arms in Europe with Nazis, it seems as though he gets his chance. After a tragic carbon monoxide poisoning leaving only Joe and another solider, who goes by Johnny, it seems as though they will never get rescued. One long, cold, wintry day, Joe hears German over the radio. Immediately in his state of cabin fever he tells Johnny that he wants to go after the German, who ends up being a geologist. Johnny fixes up his sea plane and the two head off, midair Johnny dies of a bursting appendix. Joe seems to survive and continues on to clash with fantasy meeting reality. All Joe has ever wanted was to kill a German, and while the one he finds is a geologist no less, there is no stopping him. It is when the two meet that Chabon’s focal point changes to the German geologist, we find that the geologist is fond of Americans and is excited to be able and talk in German, “no less” to a young and educated man. A scuffle breaks out, which in short, Joe kills the German. As he drags the corpse through the tundra, it does not dawn on him until he has reached his destination, that he has murdered a man. In that moment, it breaks Joe’s heart to realize what he has done. Leaving his parents behind, Thomas dying, not saying goodbye to Rosa without knowing she was pregnant with his child had not broken his heart until then. The moment Joe struck the German’s head, reality met his fantasy world, the dream of punching Hilter, just like the Escapist does is suddenly not fulfilled. We then find Joe slowly drifting into depression and drug use. In the cabin that he used, tourists later find the picture of Houdini that Thomas drew for Joe, discarded. By leaving it behind, Joe has left go of his family just like he did when he burnt Rosa’s letters and pictures of their child, Thomas.

THE END

P.S. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mq4XILM4Etg
Alexys-wanna pick this up?

Scribe Post for Janurary 13,2011

Today in class we discussed Part IV The Golden Age of The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay. As a class we came to the conclusion that this chapter was the chapter where everything took a turn for the worst. Sammy was arrested for being gay. Rosa discovered she was pregnant and decided to get an abortion, Thomas’ ship sunk and Joe tried to kill himself.

While analyzing these events we not only discussed them in their entirety but the symbols that are encompassed in these significant events. For example Sammy while with Bacon at Love’s “Gay Men Weekend” not only ran into Ruth Ebling (Carl Ebling’s sister) but he was arrested for being gay. Not only was Sammy arrested he was sexually violated being forced to have oral sex with one of the policemen so he himself would not be arrested. This event made Sammy feel violated forcing him to break off his relationship with Tracy Bacon.

To go back to Carl, Carl Ebling possibly better known as The Saboteur is a villain in life and in Kavalier and Clay’s comic book. Carl Ebling is the person who bombed one of the places where Joe was performing for a barmitzvah. No one would have ever guessed Carl Ebling was a crazy villain waiting for the perfect chance to see revenge on Joe the Escapist. Knowing this we come upon the challenging question of what’s reality and what’s illusion? Mr.Neal brought up the great point that in comic books we know who the villains are, whether they be in costumes or not, in life we do not have that choice. It is not always obvious as to who is the villain and who is the nice guy.

The chapter continues to get worse. When Joe found out his brother Thomas, who had been on his way to New York for months drown in the ship “Ark of Marie”, Joe realized that he could not no longer live in invisible chains, he could not thrive off of illusion through battling crime and history in comic books.Joe’s suicide represented him officially giving up and putting forth no more effort for anyone.

Imo you're the scribeee! :)

Surrealist Poem

Surrealist Poem

Tic.

Toc.

Tic.

Toc.

The sound of my clock goes

Tic.

Toc.

My war torn heart is too messed up and isolated.

Incubated.

Immaculated.

Emulated by my peers because I know how to love.

I’m perspiring because I can’t think of anything that will suffice.

I’m trying to fill a void with cement that wont bond.

All the while we spend our cries

On fickle faces,

On empty gazes.

We can't mistake our places.

And in case you forgot,

Truth sees the last of it.

So don’t wade through all the bullshit.

Tears conceal the empty signs that don’t fit.

Grow louder.

Grow stronger

You can’t wait any longer

But you’ll always be a small boy.

Ticking.

Tocking.

But as the lines go on,

So does my mind.

So does my body.

Inside my head there’s a

Tic.

Toc.

Telling me I haven’t got long.

I haven’t got long to sing my song.

But my mind goes on.

I wonder about the clocks and how monotonous and repetitive their jobs are.

Tic.

Toc.

However I envy their drive

I envy their perfect time.

I envy their realism because whether not you may realize it,

It all breaks down to

Tic.

Toc.

God Dam Italian Looking Spaniards

Hello there

I'm just sitting right here, bodiless, staring into the air

Do you see my eyes? Are you scared?

Where am I? I'm not here nor there

I am nothing but a figment of your imagination

I am a conundrum yet an oxymoron in the brain of a moron

Just look at my hair!

I am Italian, a classic moustache

Yet I am Spanish, and art is my past

Look into me, and you will see a rash

You must keep itching because the pain feels like a blast

Dig Deep, for I am nothing, no reality here

Blue sky, blue water

Look over your shoulder and you will be staring at your peer

But I follow you, while you let me

Because this is deep, this shit is heavy

Egg Sun

Sun set onto inessential water left to our broken sun heart
These boys quietly work patching what we have left
So that one day the soul of our sun can return to its heart for protection from the cold
The eight of them work outside in toward the torn center that fell apart apart.
They don’t realize how little time they have before the flash of green light shines with the sun fall
Hundreds of birds hover above trying to figure out what they have left and where to go
I still sit and watch satisfied with what we all have left.
That the water will always flow and the sun will return.

The man sails his ship
over the waves of the sea
The speck of land in the distance being his only source of hope
The waves crash
The wind blows
and the man drives, determined to succeed

But as he nears the shore,
After all these days of fighting,
he realizes.

His life is the ocean.
His ship and the sea are a part of him as much as his flesh and blood.
And as he steps on to shore,
the ground feels alien.

Because he is the ocean
He is a vessel meant for exploration
And he can not live on land.
And he will never leave the ocean again.

Tiger Shark

Holy sh*t I have never seen one of those
A Tiger Shark who would have thought something to come to dominate land and sea
A Bear Cat nobody can fathom predator squared
A Lion Spider the pride and power mixed with the cunning and stealth
An Eagle Snake all mice may fear
A hippo shark now swimming is no longer for the faint of hear
A rhino hawk...wtf
An elephant gator that never forgets to kill
A Scorpian Boar little but the punch it packs rips through you
A baracuda rhino comming straight for you
A spider frog, the poision will get you quick
A wolf shark try and run
its more scared of you then u are of it
no...you are sh*tting your pants and its looking for a snack

Dali and Clay

Earth is but a rounded plate that if I were to walk out on its brim
I would fall
And like the snow and the sleet and the sun that I see fall now
i would stop on the surface of a different earth quite like mine
A place built only by the hands of god, its elements are crazed
The sunami would cleanse me
my home gone giving me a fresh start to build
and the sun burning my skin
its prickled popping revealing who i truly am

Dali and Clay

Time for trouble, a twisting time, a turning time
Time that can fall down
Water is time
A twisting flowing motion with no rhyme nor reason
The time that we make, changes time
We don’t count it, nor know it
But time still is
An outburst of emotion,
The tears falling off a silken dress
stained with the salt of emotion
the legs intertwined with time, gripping it as one would a life preserver, floating in the open ocean
A fearful grasp, one that conveys the fear, that displays the levity of an emotion as of yet unknown
We see the water dissolve itself, self destructive as with time, breaking itself, yet repairing itself, on a perpetual journey to the unknown

Scribe Post 1/7/11

On Friday, we talked about Part 3 of Kavalier and Clay. The first thing we did was answer questions the class had about Part 3. There were no questions except for "What leverage does Sammy get over Anapol?" The answer to this question was that Sammy had proof of Anapol directly asking him to "make [him] a superman" for Empire Comics.

The next thing we talked about pertaining to Part 3 was the idea of intercalary chapters. Intercalary chapters are chapters whose subjects digress from the main plot-line. Chapter 13 is an intercalary chapter because it talks about the adventures of Luna Moth rather than Joe and Sammy.

We also talked about how Rosa is an incarnation of Luna Moth. The invention of Luna Moth is a progression for Sammy and Joe that shows the evolution of their work from copy to pure creation. This is because initially Anapol asked them to make a Superman, which was inspired by Joe's anger with Hitler and what he was doing to Joe's homeland and family. The Escapist was powered by anger, while Luna Moth was created from pure imagination. The creation of Luna Moth may have also been driven by the limits that Empire Comics was starting to put on The Escapist. In a prominent example, Jack Ashkenazy, the boss of Joe and Sammy, tells them that they need to tone down the aggression towards Nazis in their comic book because it was causing them business problems. Empire Comics wanted to make a deal with a sock company, but because the CEO of the company was German, he did not want to work with Empire Comics in result of their offensive comic book.



The next topic we addressed was the name of Part 4: The Golden Age. We said that Golden Age had the connotations of money and the high point of careers/relationships, but most importantly that "they don't last". In history, we know that any Golden Age that a country or continent has experienced is temporary, or the nation would be thriving to this day. Some ideas were that Sammy and Joe's "big money" was not going to last, and their comic book company was going to fail later. Another idea was that the two of them were going to break off from Empire Comics and they were going to start doing better than they were before.

Photo Credit: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAcbiyNXPG4ZDurSUAX9DmHvomfIqJ-LH6u76t67pdoAQq6-rDIT76ZfbORdWeKhf6XYy4VgYluT539rUB_mQVNwTKn2vZOaClG2vxoBjH20TJ7kl-_SDob0vasj6E8cufgel_VTJ5p1I/s320/luna.jpg

The next scribe will beeeeeeeeeee ALEXYS!