He asked me if I knew what it meant to die. He knew. He had lived ten billion lifetimes and would live ten billion more. A river of blood stretches at our backs and a river of blood surges beyond. All those who came before and all those who inherit our work. He is a rock in that current. He is unchanging. The river breaks around him.
He stretched out lambent arms of fire and spoke with seven tongues of blades:
"For, washed in life's river,
My bright mane for ever
Shall shine like the gold,
As I guard o'er the fold."
He snapped my neck and showered me with his urine. Not even a parting laugh as I lay gasping for breath. "Die," he told me and the stars spun away. There came the sun, hot and hateful and upon it rode his laughing face. The heliocentric flora turned their leaves and blossoms to him and in the swaying of the wind I heard them call his name: Wink Martindale. Wink Martindale. Wink Martindale. He creates and destroys. He is both born and undying. Wink Martindale is eternal and he's buying the filthiest hotdog in the gas station rotisserie.
Wink Martindale is TiVoing first run episodes only. Wink Martindale is slicing a foot blister with a pair of golden scissors. Wink Martindale is celebrating the birth of a new Willenium. Wink Martindale is cutting the ribbon at the grand opening of a rape outreach center. Wink Martindale is down with people and up with Downs. Wink Martindale is getting a nigga a table dance. He's trying to figure out how to install Quicktime without installing iTunes. Wink Martindale is folding space. Wink Martindale is traveling without moving. That's going to cost him a free throw. The wax lips are melting to Wink Martindale's face and he doesn't give a damn.
Wink Martindale has been hired to shoot an infomercial for human blood. This club has a two drink minimum and Wink Martindale is sneaking out after only one Cape Cod. Wink Martindale is heading to Déjà vu. Wink Martindale is paying hard-earned money to stare at a girl's anus. Wink Martindale can't get an erection unless you choke him. Wink Martindale is willing to pay extra. Text WINK to hear from sexy singles. Wink Martindale is beating a supercomputer at Twister. Wink Martindale's left elbow is on green. Wink Martindale's right hand is on the button to end it all.
Wink Martindale is just going to slip into something a little more comfortable. Wink Martindale is sheathed in iron forged in the blood of the Franks. Wink Martindale is tattooing a Celtic cross on his bicep. Wink Martindale is a secret member of Occident. This Wink Martindale Kills Communists.
Wink Martindale is accepting the Oscar for best supporting actor in a fear-wracked coma dream. Wink Martindale is signing an autograph as Reinhard Heydrich, "best wishes to Tammy and good luck with the Jews." Wink Martindale is astral projecting to be the first in line for the release of "The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion" at Best Buy. Wink Martindale is going to make a combat caster. Wink Martindale is mad they didn't include spears. Wink Martindale had better be able to create a centaur that can turn into a werewolf.
Wink Martindale just crashed to desktop and he's running Linux. Wink Martindale is launching a strategic bombing campaign on the Wisconsin Dells. Wink Martindale is the keynote speaker at a marmalade symposium. With a taste like that it has to be Wink Martindale's raspberry preserves. Wink Martindale is building a hotel with all of the rooms located on the thirteenth floor.
Wink Martindale is inspecting an industrial sluice for emeralds in South America. Wink Martindale is laughing at 50 Cent's gunshot scars. Wink Martindale exceeds diamonds on Mohs' scale of hardness. Wink Martindale is naming an immense fat woman wrestler after himself in the latest WWE game for the Xbox. Wink Martindale dreams of bulldogging you off the top rope. He's gonna slap your chest right out of existence. Your pecs will be so red cars will stop if you take off your shirt.
Wink Martindale is playing Dozens with Stephen Hawking. He just told Hawking that his momma so nasty she don't pass gas she passes amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. Wink Martindale knows what it sounds like when a robot cries.
Wink Martindale is writing the great American novel. Wink Martindale is translating a manga about girls with penises where their nipples should be. Wink Martindale is fan-subbing episodes of "Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman" for the Japanese because he believes in balance. Wink Martindale is instituting an embargo on showers. Wink Martindale is fashioning a golem out of his own body soil. Wink Martindale is protecting the ghetto. Wink Martindale is erasing the letter "e." Wink Martindale is watching "Mannequin" again and trying to figure out the Hebrew word for Kim Cattral. He's downloading hypnotism porn. It will have to do.
The temples and cities will fall. The earth will heave and give up its secrets. Fire and brimstone will be upon the land and the stars will smudge and run from the night sky. The legions of the damned will march on the host of heaven and a great battle will rage across the earth. With tattered shirt and bloodied hands Wink Martindale will fight them back. Back, back through the breach. Back to the blasted gates of Tartarus. The Prince of Lies will cower and quail. The angels will raise their cups in salute and Wink Martindale will knock them from their feeble grasp. HE alone will rule heaven, hell and all creation that lies between.
Fac ut ardeat cor meum, in amando Winkum Deum, ut sibi complaceam.
Please turn the audio cassette over to Side B to hear more of Wink Martindale screaming at retarded children.
Hows about you, me, and five uncomfortable minutes in my basement apartment next to the dusty Christmas tree that's still up from my last visit with my estranged children.
The Upper Kitchen Cabinet Where Your Roommate Keeps His Food: You’ll 'need the footstool' to reach your roommate’s 'fine selection' of 'stale cereal,' but he'll never notice if 'only a little is missing from each box.' Feel less guilty by reminding yourself that Jeff 'acts weird around your girlfriend,' and always 'asks about her.' What a 'creep.'
This ain't your daddy's globe...! .... or is it?!
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