NON-FICTION: A Mystery of Eternal Revulsion

In keeping with fair standards of conversation, I can tell you that Cartoon Yourself websites allow the users to experiment with their self understanding and their perception of other people.

But this just creeps the shit out of me, no matter how many times I see it:



Look at the faces, one by one.  What I feel is revulsion, physical, my heart rate and blood pressure seem to elevate, preparing for battle against this moral threat.

I remember going to the carnivals, or beachside boardwalks and piers, and seeing those guys who would cartoon you for a couple bucks.  It was disturbing then as well, and I was just strongly afraid that someone I was with would want to do one, or that the 'artist' would look at me and talk to me.

Why is this?  How can something so seemingly popular be absolutely vile, evil, and generally repugnant to me?



Is it a projection of my own insecurities?  Is it that I would like to be able to recreate myself but am stuck on emphasizing the negative aspects of myself, as an antidote to the possibility of self-delusion?

Is it just that a certain percentage of the population has sensory perception that makes this yuckiness more visually appealing?  Something about the way they perceive color?



It just seems like people want to escape their mundane or common character, simply by covering up reality.

You know, as I type this, I keep looking back at these pictures to try and find the secret key to my revulsion, but I can't.

Please give me your explanation.  Look at the top row of cartoons, the lady from 30 Rock, or is that Sarah Palin?, and Bill Murray, and Whoopi Goldberg are so disturbing!!!!

Please give me your view on this.

IDEA: The Message They Left for Us

I thought I had left a mess on the floor, nudged the cats' bowl with my foot while hurrying out of the house.  But the message was there.  I just didn't want to see it.

We've all gotten so used to seeing things in the world as it is presently, on levels 6 through lobby and parking garage.

What I found on the floor was no mess.  It was a word spelled out in cat food.

Think about it, the roads we traveled home on tonight, the theater we watched the 'movie' in.  All made by ideas, ideas.   Why is it that we happen to have people among us whose expertise is fiction?  And why is Jaime an architect?   He certainly has built no buildings.  So, just what has he built?

The cat food on my kitchen floor spelled this:  Catbox

That's where my secret subconscious safe box was.  And inside was the message that would unravel everything for me: Pool.  Obviously it meant that I had to get to Jaime's safe, hidden at the bottom of his childhood pool, his first den of safety.  I confirmed the message with Bakunin, and noticed something strange about the word spelled out in cat food: it was cc'ed to .... none other than....

Luka!!!!

I had Bakunin sprout magic dream wings and fly to Cerritos where Luka, pipe in mouth, waited patiently.

And what did I retrieve from the safety box underneath the chlorine suffused waters?

Our original mission.  The mission we've all forgotten  The mission we still have to finish.

Angela Dickinson, code named Mercy, was recruited by Jack Stockingsworth, codename Jaimen.

Jaimen had one last job to do, and he needed some extra help.  That's when he broke me, Garreth Hydelberg, out of the nuthouse.

Jaimen, the world's most wanted dream architect, built this place, inspired by a movie he had just seen, starring Johnny Depp as a man who dies and goes to heaven only to find out that Heaven is his childhood, and his childhood has become full of vampires and zombies, who he has to fight.

Stockingsworth, AKA Jaimen, constructed this world in order to infiltrate the mind of Leonardo Dicaprio, a drug crazed actor-turned-politician who now threatens war with Chile, back in the really real world, where nothing spins forever. We need to inceive the idea in Dicaprio's mind that All You Need is Love.

Click to Kick

Jaimen knew it would be hard, so he built in reminders, and had us all start a book club, to keep us in touch with the real world.  That's why all the books we've read for our book club are actually events from the really real world, that Stockingsworth instructed Gareth Hydelberg, me, and Angela Dickinson, Mercy, to put in novel form.

I know this answers so many precious questions for us.  But there's one more:  Who is the dreamer of this world that Jaimen has led us in constructing?  Of course, that's why Bakunin left me the message, because.....

dun dun dun!  We're really all projections of Bakunin's subconscious, and Luka is his security guard extractor guy.

Or is it?  One things for sure, the architect of this world, Jaimen, has built in a kick that will bring us back up to the really real world, where dogs and cats may or may not rule humanity.

The kick is complicated, but it involves something approximating a circle jerk onto a two headed lamb (in the dreamworld, the female members of our task force can just magic out the necessary apparatus to co-jerk with us.)

And that's the other secret.  Who is the other female?  The Emma character, someone who just happens to have the mind of a rapacious, business obsessed tycoon.   Why, she's the one who hired us.. oh should I say.  dun dun dun!  HE!!!

Emma is none other than Donald Trump, who originally blackmailed the architect, Stockingsworth, into designing this strip mall, sprawling world.


The pre-kick kick should be embedded in this post, if not, I've been dunking my head in the toilet and I really feel that it's working.

soon....