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This is the only miracle I ever witnessed.

The bathroom door had a copper deadbolt. One morning my sister was taking a shower, with the door bolted, of course. I must've been in my bedroom, which was right beside the bathroom. I hear a loud bang! and my sister shriek. I go to the bathroom and open the door; she'd fallen down, unconscious. She could easily have drowned.

The bolt was still sticking out. The inset place where the bolt should have been was completely undamaged. The bolt had passed right through the jamb.

My two brothers confirmed all this.

I was contacted recently by the sister of a friend of mine from high school. The friend had met an untimely end way back then, in a car crash. And now, here was his sister contacting me. I wondered why, and of course I wondered if there were more intimate reasons for her email. I finally got up to write to her. I told her all sorts of things. It was a very sad letter, I suppose. (Brilliantly written, of course.) During its text, I even told her I'd mentioned her here. (20060311.) In any case, she never wrote back.

TWO SIDES

The father has a daughter who becomes
A mother blood of him and of a son.

"My father's father's mother's Iroquois,"
She told the son. "He fought in both world wars."

He learns of time and space apart in school.
Geography and history in dif-
Ferent classes, different times, and is a fool.

And places flow past spaces, space through place,
And Grandpa's pocket watch comes down to him,
And later Grandpa's compass becomes his.

He doesn't see the way they intersect
Until he reads a book on symmetry
And he detects; yet still a fool is he.

"Hey, Lisa, I had a dream about you last night. Yes. Seems you and me and my father were out on an iceberg or ice floe or some such. You were my father's girlfriend. So anyway, we were freezing, so my dad lit a little burner thing. It got hot and burned right through the floe. That weakened the ice, and then there was a big hole. You fell in, and I thought, 'Oh well.' Then you surfaced, and I decided to rescue you. I woke up before I pulled you out, but I think I pulled you out anyways."

-Hey, you know when, after you've taken a shit, and you flush, but a piece of shit just won't go down?

-Yeah?

-And so you flush again, and again, but dammit that piece of shit just won't go down?

-Yeah?

-Because it's, like, too big or something?

-Yeah? Yeah?

-And so you flush a couple of times more, then you're sick of standing around waiting for the tank to fill, so you read the paper and go back to the toilet every once in a while, try another flush or two?

-Yeah?

-Well, you're exactly like that piece of shit.

It has come to our belated attention that the author of an obscure series of children's "novels" has argued one of her characters has sexual desires not quite According to Hoyle. However, she has not offered any evidence of an exegetical nature to back her claim. Apparently, the little snip expects us to take her word for it, and this goes completely against reasonable criticism. If we were to follow her lead, we would be forced to re-read yet again À la recherche du temps perdu,, this time salient to the fact that Albertine is, in fact, an obvious transvestite.

SELF REFERENCE

Three
Four
Five
Six
See?
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
It means nothing.
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
You can stop reading now if you like.
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Nothing happening here.
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-four
Thirty-five
Obscenity: Shit!
Thirty-eight
Thirty-nine
Forty
Forty-one
Forty-two
Forty-three
Forty-four
Forty-five
Forty-six
Forty-seven
Forty-eight
Forty-nine
Fifty
Fifty-one
You're still with me.
Fifty-six
Fifty-seven
Sometimes you amaze me.
Sixty-two
Sixty-three
Sixty-four
Sixty-five
Sixty-six
Such reading stamina!
Seventy
Seventy-one
Seventy-two
Seventy-three
Guess the ending.
Seventy-seven
Seventy-eight
Seventy-nine
Quatre-vingt
Eighty-one
Eighty-two
I quit smoking.
Eighty-six
Eighty-seven
Prepare for the anticlimax.
Ninety-two
Ninety-three
Ninety-four
Ninety-five
Ninety-six
Ninety-seven
Ninety-eight
Ninety-nine
Hundred.

THE BALLAD OF DR CHARLES SMITH

Now listen to my story all, about a doctor proud:
Pathology Forensic was his game.
But he was photogenic so the TV made him loud:
His fate was cast and Charles Smith his name.

The television station courted him and offered fame
(His face appeared again again);
Cathodic pride did bloat and make him cravely love acclaim
No matter who received the pain.

But then: Alas! The government the work of Smith
Did find To be of errors made throughout;
The television station bared its fickle fangs and blind
Attacked, and made him sauerkraut.

"Yeah, it was just the five of us and a couple guys at first, but then some other people showed up after the pizza."

"Like who?"

"Some people from Jane's work, and Bill, and two of his friends. One of his friends was cute, though."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Not handsome or anything, no; still, I thought he was sweet."

"What's his name?"

"George. He also knows Kat, from some class, I can't remember which."

"So, you like this guy?"

"Yeah. Now, I know, he's got red hair and glasses, and lots of people would go 'Eew!' but I think he's nice."

It happens to everybody sooner or later, and last night it happened to me. I got to read the fine print at the bottom of my dreams:

THIS IS ENTIRELY A WORK OF FICTION. ANY RESEMBLANCE TO REAL PERSONS, PLACES, OR EVENTS IS ENTIRELY CO-INCIDENTAL. DO NOT ENGAGE WITH THESE IMAGES, WHICH INVARIABLY APPEAR LARGER THAN IN REALITY. ANY MISUSE IS PUNISHABLE BY EMBARRASSMENT OR OTHER TORMENT. FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW. IF A RASH DEVELOPS, DISCONTINUE USE IMMEDIATELY. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION PUNISHABLE TO THE FULL EXTENT OF THE BERNE CONVENTION. PIRACY IS ILLEGAL.

COMMEMORATION

The Guantánamo Bay Naval Base is the oldest overseas American naval base. It's been there for, like, a hundred years. It's there because of the treaty that ended the Spanish-American War. It's a loaner. The Cubans don't like it, but a treaty is a treaty.

There's a Subway restaurant and a McDonald's restaurant there. Co-operating prisoners are sometimes given Happy Meals. I don't know if they get the toys, though.

Cubans trying to escape the island's dictatorship are deterred by a cactus "curtain" around the Naval Base's walls. If they get through anyway, they are returned to the regime.

News 1

REPORTER SEEKING TO BACK UP HIS PRECONCEIVED ARGUMENT AND WHO WILL RETURN TO THE STUDIO AND PICK AND CHOOSE THE BEST EVIDENCE FROM ALL THE FREE INTERVIEWS HE'S MANAGED TO CATCH ON VIDEOTAPE: What's your opinion?

MAN-ON-THE-STREET WHO HAS GOT NOTHING BETTER TO DO THAN TO TALK TO A TV CAMERA AS HE'S LEAVING A SHOP TO BUY A LOAF OF BREAD FLATTERED BY THE ATTENTION HE'S RECEIVING FROM A COMPLETE STRANGER AND THINKING HE'LL HAVE TO WATCH THE SIX O'CLOCK NEWS FOR THE FIRST TIME IN WHO KNOWS HOW LONG TONIGHT: I think it's a bad idea.

News 2

REPORTER: How's the investigation been going?

MPP: You know I can't comment on an ongoing investigation.

REPORTER: But what sort of a feeling are you getting from it?

MPP: It's illegal for me to comment.

REPORTER: Okay, but, what have you heard? The public has a right to know.

MPP: I can't tell you anything.

REPORTER: Are you hiding behind the OPP?

MPP: I'm not hiding anything. I simply cannot comment.

REPORTER: Off the record.

MPP: I still can't say anything.

REPORTER: You seem afraid.

MPP: Goddammit, Linden, what the fuck don't you get? I can't fucking comment!

News 3/Pornstar Funnies 3

PANEL 1:

A reporter (left) is talking to an interviewee (right). The reporter is saying, "That he got arrested for drunken driving, hasn't that shook up the Hollywood community?" and the interviewee is saying, "We're all, like, real shook, you know?"

PANEL 2:

The reporter's saying, "How do you manage the pressure?" and the interviewee is saying, "Like, I dunno." In the background there's a guy holding up a sign that reads MY SON WAS BEHEADED BY MOSLEMS.

PANEL 3:

The reporter is shouting to the guy, "Hey! We're trying to do some serious journalism here!"

(Shh. I'm at the Pilot Tavern. Mary and Bob are watching No Country For Old Men. They must be halfway through by now. I was there in the theatre, too, but it was so crowded, & Mary went to pee before we went in to find a place to sit, that I found the only possible place for us to sit, which was in the second row, & when Mary finally showed, she said, "Sit way down there?" I said, "Then sit wherever the fuck you want." She sat somewhere, I got assaulted by advertisements. I said, "Fuck this." I....)

He said,
I think we'll be going to Mars, don't you?
How long from now?
It's big space.
My teacher, he said, a wheelbarrow full of sand, and if you take a cup from it, uh....
My boss is from Afghanistan. He's got a big Mercedes.
There's only two in the province. Yeah.
Winter here! It never ends! My father was a soldier in Siberia. Colder here.
I want to rob drug dealers for a living, that's what I want to do. Hold them out, gimme drugs, gimme money, motherfucker! But I can't do it alone.

I said,
No thanks.

ANNOUNCING our first ever Annual Writing Contest.

Submit a 100 word entry, along with fifty dollars, for your chance to win the entirety of one (1) daily entry at John Skaife's 100words assemblage.

The subject is completely up to you; only the length--precisely 100 words--is required.

The contents of your entry become the property of John Skaife.

Send your entry (along with a valid credit card number, expiry date, security code, and name as it appears on the card) to the email address listed on John Skaife's profile page.

Every entry is AUTOMATICALLY GUARANTEED TO BE A WINNER!!

"MEOW! MEOW! MEOW!"

That's the cat. It's still night. Maybe five o'clock.

"MEOW! MEOW! MEOW!"

I understand she's been doing this quite often. (So Mary tells me.) But ... what does she want?

"MEOW! MEOW! MEOW!"

I know she's got food out in the kitchen just waiting to be eaten. What could cause such timely pain?

"MEOW! MEOW! MEOW!"

I put out my hand, snap my fingers, go, "Fss-fss-fss-fss." She comes running. I pat her on the head a bit, then pull my hand back under the covers. She wanders away.

"MEOW! MEOW! MEOW!"

What the hell does she want??

NOAM CHOMSKY KILLED MY SISTER

A good boy was Noam Chomsky.
Overheard at a New Haven cocktail party as saying he thought Auschwitz was 'a good start' was Noam Chomsky.
Tying a lace--was it this way, or that?--sat Noam Chomsky.
Sat about to receive the 2008 Nobel Prize was Noam Chomsky.
Through the New York Times four times he went -
"Pol Pot was fabricated.
"Pol pot was in the service of the Service.
"Pol Pot was best anyways.
"Pol Pot, if successful, AND under my direction, may have killed all the Jews,"
said Noam Chomsky, between canapes.

Solar eclipses are easiest to understand. The moon gets between the earth and the sun. This doesn't happen very often, I understand, though I don't quite know why.

Lunar eclipses are tougher to visualize. These happen when the earth gets between the sun and the moon. Isn't that exactly what is happening when there isn't a moon out, when it's all black? No, that's just from one perspective. The moon has to be in total darkness. There, now I understand it.

So, what happens the the sun is between the earth and the moon? Is that called a terrestrial eclipse?

My name is John O'Connell & I work for Land & Sea
& work I do both night & day sith closed the fishery
Behind a desk I tap me tongue & dream of fish and fowl
& make me scrips for broadcast shows that last a half a hour

My parents both are sick or dead down near the Craignish shore
I send them half me packet but they always need some more
One day I'll go & see them off to join the land & sea
& I'll be all alone at last just me & my tv

We spread out to look efficiently for evidence. Why had a naked man come into the office? Why had he shot two people? Where had the gun come from, and where had it gone?

One of our search party discovered a note reading, "There are four pieces of valuable evidence. They are:

"a telephone,

"a personal computer,
"a ream of paper,

"a cable television,

"and a stapler."

This was certainly a puzzle. Did the conjunction of computer and paper mean they were associated with one another? Or were we over-analysing the spacing?

In fact, we knew nothing until the confession.

SUBLIME MISCELLANY

It was clear when I left work; now I'm halfway home and I'm covered with snow.

***

One bad insane bomber spoils the bushel of insane bombers.

***

Nah, I can't go to the Christmas party, because John Sabourin said something mean to me three years ago.

***

Make the people close to you your friends, and make those closest your enemies.

***

Q: Should I offer my street-car seat to a lady?
A: Ladies don't ride street-cars.

***

Board meeting.

"Members, we must get back-to-basics. What is it that unites humanity?"

"Pets!"

"Family!"

"Hunger!"

"Love!"

"Birth!"

"Death!"

I don't remember how he died. It happened more than twenty years ago. Maybe even twenty-four. They were on a country road. (Why were they on a country road?) A tire blew out on the car. (I'd been in that car.) The car went off the road and I think it hit a tree. (Why was he driving so fast?) The car was wrecked. She managed to get out. They were in the middle of nowhere. She headed for a farmhouse. (Neck brace next day.) Got there and called an ambulance. He lived for twelve hours more, in the hospital.

I've become disillusioned with all this. Everything I've done simply doesn't seem perfect enough. There's always some kind of mistake in each and every one of them. If only I took more time making them, that would make a world of difference. For example, recently I wrote "Now With Added Padding," I believe I called it, in which I made my sloppiness a virtue. But how often can I do that? Not very often, that's the answer. If only I could write something perfect! If only! My next entry will be perfect. I promise. My next entry will be perfect.

race
rads
rags
rake
rami
raps
rase
rash
rasp
rave
raya
raze
rebs
reds
reek
rees
regs
reps
resh
rhos
rhus
rime
robs
rods
roes
rook
ropy
rose
roux
rove
rubs
ruby
rues
rugs
runs
ruse
rush
sard
sear
seer
sera
sere
soar
sora
sorb
sord
sore
sorn
sour
spur
suer
sura
surd
sure
tabu
tang
tapa
tape
teed
teen
tepa
thae
than
thee
thou
thud
thug
toad
toea
toed
toga
tone
tong
toon
tope
toph
tuba
tube
tuna
tune
tung
unto
urbs
urds
urns
ursa
urus
user
vara
veer
vera
verb
wick
wiss
yard
yare
yarn
year
yore
your

THE BODYGUARD

When I was in grade eight, I said something in class, and my teacher, Mrs. Jackson, said, "John, you really should become a bodyguard."

That's when I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up.

My first assignment was a mid-level manager in a mideast corporation. I was looking the other way, and he got shot.

I was re-assigned to France. Unfortunately, my assignment was killed with a crossbow. Weird, huh?

Then I had to guard an Emir. Nice guy. However, there was a bomb. Seven bystanders killed.

Maybe I chose the wrong line of work.

"I vill not be testifyink hier, I vill not, I vill not be testifyink. I refooz to testify. I haff a list of conditions hier, a list of conditions that must be met before I testify. Zeese are my conditions. I need to haff accezz to documents. I cannot remember everysing. I need accezz to documents. Pluz, I need time. I cannot vip ziss all up in a minute. Zat's my zecond condition. Zird, my zird condition, iz eizer accezz to a time machine, or ze time to create one. I vill not be testifying until zese conditions are met."

I returned home to find my wife in bed with another man.

She cried, "It's not what you think!"

"Felicity, how can it be otherwise? Can my eyes deceive me so?"

Wielding a saw I forced her back down on the bed.

"Come, sir, I want to see you consort with my wife!"

The rascal got on top, and mounted her.

"Felicity," I cried as I started sawing through the crown of her head, "Does it feel good?"

When the saw teeth reached the tips of her ears, I cried, "Ejaculate now, sir!"

I did what I had to do.