Delving Into Dangerous Territory
(with star reporter Gregory James)
On Thursday, June ninth, 2005 at precisely 3:33 P.M. in the afternoon (Mountain Standard Time) a certain sorry little prick crawled up inside himself and started digging around. The traffic out in the streets kept right on buzzing. The cirrostratus clouds overhead kept right on looming. Smilers kept on smiling. Criers kept on crying. And all the little we-do-gooders kept right the fuck on blowing smoke up the assholes of civilization. Needless to say, Mr. Gregory sure had the world crumbling beneath his fingertips like a puppet on a string.
"Your mind, dear sir. I'd like a few words with your mind."
Gregory: "It's all yours. Just don't expect anything too logical or sense-worthy to come from it."
"Wonderful! Alrighty then Gregory's mind, can you please tell the world just what it is that makes you tick? What is it in you that separates you from all the other minds in the world?"
Gregory's mind: "I have no past secrets. I have no happily ever after expectations. I exist moment to moment, footstep to footstep, teardrop to teardrop. I sometimes try to paint a little of myself into my surroundings as a sort of tree-carving instinct to try and prove to the world that I'm here... but I'm not reliant on responsive results. I've approved of myself, exactly the way I am, ever since I turned twelve years old and became more intelligent than anybody who's ever tried to control any aspect of who I am. And that's what makes me who I am."
"And what ABOUT intelligence? Isn't it true that you've opted out of any future ending with you holding a college degree of any sort?"
Gregory's mind: "This is entirely true. As far as I'm concerned the modern education of academics is just as qualified to distinguish the masses as "educated" as a roll of toilet paper is. The only difference is that toilet paper actually HAS an unarguably useful role in society."
"So then is it fair to say that you have no long-term aspirations for yourself whatsoever?"
Gregory's mind: "No, I still have desires. I still want things. I just haven't been as blessed as others in my life have claimed to be so I have a hard time arranging my priorities in stone. I'm forever doomed to question the comparative values of things like happiness, eternity, love and wisdom.
"Great. Thank you so much for your time, Gregory's mind. Now, moving on, Gregory can you please ask your elbow if I can have a few words with him as well?"
Gregory: "Um, o... k....."
"Hello there Gregory's elbow. Many of us have been long awaiting the breakdown of what's really going on inside the funny bone of this exceptionally prestigious man. First off can you please explain who you are and what you stand for?"
Gregory's elbow: "Ha ha! Flattery will get you everywhere with me, my friend! Anyways, back to business. I’m that snarky, heartless voice you hear when everybody else feels obliged to concede to silence. I’m the blunt, upside-the-head bash that treats everybody like a free-range dartboard. The principles I stand for are quite universal I’m sure. You could call me a figurehead for randomosity, a stickler for breaking the rules, and then of course… The Jester of The Court!”
“Wow, quite the pedestal you’ve attained a spot on. What do you have to say in response to the critics who think you’ve let all of your successes go to your head?”
Gregory’s elbow: “They can blow me. Anybody who has really KNOWN me since the beginning can vouch that I am now and always have been the same exact person. Besides, what you people call success, I call atrocity. There’s nothing any of you have that inflames jealousy in me. All of the fame and riches in the world couldn’t make me a happier man no matter what color you sugar coat it to be.”
“Hmmm, it seems you’re holding onto some bitter grudge from long ago that’s keeping you from truly opening up to the idea of being one of humanity. Any comments?”
Gregory’s elbow: “I am not a forgiving person. If anybody finds it in themselves to feel the need to ask for forgiveness from me without first earning it, I shall wipe my ass with their sympathy and never once look back to wonder if it hurt their feelings. I regret nothing about my past. I only ever do things that I feel are justified so when somebody calls me a sinner I’m forced to define “sinner” as the only thing I could ever hope to be. My past is what has made me what I am today. The single most important thing in life is having your own. You dig?”
“Yes, we dig. Thank you so much for that very interesting bit of advice Mr. Gregory’s elbow. Moving on once again, Gregory, I’d very much like to ask you if your fingers could take a break from their dauntingly overt habit of scribbling down whatever it is that presents itself to them so I could ask them a few questions as well.”
Gregory: “Hehe, no problem. I’ll just steal their pen for a few minutes and they’re all yours.”
“Wow, the infamous fingers of The Grandmaster Poet himself! The ones who are right there when the magic unfolds! How does it feel to be the tools for the imagination that’s overtaking the world in its fury of words?”
Gregory’s fingers: “Tone it down a bit Fabio. We’re just regular fingers just like anybody else’s fingers. If anything different at all, we’re freakishly boney and gangly and maybe just a little double-jointed. So quit with the everybody’s-best-friend-routine bullshit and get to the point already.”
“And modest too! You guys are too much. Tell the world, Gregory’s fingers, where do you come up with all of your mind-blowing ideas for all the poetry and prose you keep coming out with?”
Gregory’s fingers: “Hmmm, that’s a good question actually. I think that since we're so paranoid about becoming like other people we have to search harder for ways to stand out and sometimes it pays off. Though most of the time it just confuses people and flies way the hell over their heads. But it probably also has a lot to do with our lack of inhibitions concerning what we say and what messages we're supporting. We're not afraid to communicate the things we think; whether it be dark, mushy, weird or even just full-on-angst. We value an honest voice over a pretty one any day of the week.”
“Let’s say that one day Gregory gets into a terrible accident. What would your reaction be if he became permanently paralyzed from the wrists down?”
Gregory’s fingers: “Whoa! We’d be devastated! Writing is how we handle the things that happen to us, like a sort of self-therapy. If we couldn’t do it anymore we probably wouldn't even want to be alive anymore. It would be like… a horrible, horrible nightmare! We, we, we would probably denounce God if he didn’t grant our wish to just die.”
“Here, take this tissue and let it all out. You’ve been brave long enough. Everything’s going to be ok.”
Gregory’s fingers: *sobbing*
“Now then, back to you Gregory. I have one more notch to scratch on my witness list. Would it be asking too much for just a few short words with your heart?”
Gregory: “I’m sorry. My what?”
“Your heart. Can I speak with him?”
Gregory: “Umm, are you speaking English? You want to speak with my… what?”
“You know, the thing in your chest that pumps blood to the rest of your body and represents all the connections of love and friendship you’ve made in your lifetime. Your heart.”
Gregory: “Oh! A heart! But sir, I don’t think I have one of those things.”
“Sure you do, everybody does. It’s what guides us and drives us through the rocky mazes of our lives and ensures that there’ll always be someplace to return to when times get tough. Haven’t you ever heard the saying ’Home is where the heart is’?”
Gregory: “Well if that’s true than I guess I have no home either. I grew up in a house of lies and madness. It was full of crazy people with nothing in common and no ties to grow attached to. Between parents that hate each other, four mindstakingly moody sisters, and two brothers (one a nymphomaniac and the other an asshole from Hell) I was left to raise myself in as much of a mind-frame of sanity as I could possibly manage to scrounge up and cling onto.”
“Oh, I had no idea that your childhood was so traumatic. What would you say is the single leading motivation you used in order to survive in one piece?”
Gregory: “Spite.”
Well there you have him folks; from the chip on his shoulder to the gum on his shoe. Not exactly as glorious or as admirable as we’d like to have hoped for, but then again not a total waste of space either. Sure his ego fluctuates on and off at odd intervals of space and time but don’t we all have our moments of selfishness and pride also? I think it’s fair to say that there’s a little bit of Gregory in all of us whether or not we’re willing to admit it: a smile behind every teardrop, a face behind every mask, and of course… a ray of hope in every darkened future.
This is Gregory James,
Your favorite, online, inside-report journalist
Signing out—
“Keep it real but
Please o’ pleasy
Just remember,
Keep it cheesy!”
[ Exposé Collumn: challenge entry for Week 6, Mission 2 of APTP ]
Adding your comment:
Bunny
I'm sorry but I just don't know what to say lol, Good job.. lol I give you clappy hands 
Frances Lynn
