Igor

Elevate form over function to get at less easily articulable truths.

Re: Igor

Postby barbarianhorde » Thu Mar 30, 2017 6:34 pm

Now Igor bought bread on the train. He was a commuter. He d gotten a job interview across state lines with his uncle. His uncle who fixed pipes.

The man next to Igor had a cigarette in his mouth which was unlit. He chewed on it a bit and it made Igor nervous, hungry and craving a smoke. It was a long ride and nothing much went on outside.

So Igor got up from his seat and strolled around the compartment and then left the wagon. The sound in the vault between the wagons was thunderous and monotonous. Igor sat down on the metal plates and slept.
It is true that liberty is precious; so precious that it must be carefully rationed.
~ Владимир Ильич Ульянов Ленин

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Re: Igor

Postby Fixed Cross » Mon May 08, 2017 3:45 pm

Igor ate 4 eggs. He poured cream in his coffee and kept pouring, and pouring, the package must be empty by now, the cup is already overflowing... he cant stop... cream flows onto the table, drips on the floor, seven waitresses on their knees now appear, mopping up the sticky stuff with their blond buns, bums in the air, Igor keeps pouring and pouring... the coffee wont taste so good now.... he wakes up, hungry for some eggs.

He steps outside in his shorts, it is hot and clammy, the sun has been out for hours, the birds already sound tired. He steps into the inflatable pool and enjoys the cool water touching his ankles. His appetite for eggs disappears, and the day seems to dissolve into an old dream he never had. Black is all he sees.

Sounds come out of the Earth.
He wakes up again, now craving oranges.
The strong do what they can, the weak accept what they must.
- Thucydides

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Re: Igor

Postby barbarianhorde » Tue May 09, 2017 8:05 am

Well he said its just a word. "Rape". Dont be so glum.
That was inappropriate apparently, the girl wept.
Igor could never figure them out, women. Now they wish for the worst, then they expect you give them the best...
ah hell, he'll just do whatever the fuck he'll feel like at any given instant.
That was Igor, ordering Teryaki.
It is true that liberty is precious; so precious that it must be carefully rationed.
~ Владимир Ильич Ульянов Ленин

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Re: Igor

Postby Ierrellus » Wed May 10, 2017 3:21 pm

Igor hears the train depart and remembers that in the old songs that sound is sad. He looks at the girl and wonders if her sadness is about going or coming or both.
"We must love one another or die." W.H.Auden
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Re: Igor

Postby Meno_ » Thu May 11, 2017 12:11 pm

Igor is sad. He is in Taipei. With his wife. She is as tangled as he is.tey to focus. Who is he, thinking of himself
In the airline coming in he saw a film called Split, about a guy with multiple personality, who connects musically with a woman who was abused possibly raped. The film was by Shamalayan, the guru filmmaker whose forte is mysticism.
Igor thinks of all those who don't know who they are, and thinks perhaps they are blessed. He thinks of a continuity, a sudden urge overtaking him about the woman coming and going, from up and down. Eating teriyaki.

Then what? But no Igor thinks , Frankwi back in ol' sunny California, and Stein, they must be having a ball, and she is sitting there looking across not vacuous, pointing to a marathon here, and Igor thinks to himself of all his containment of his parts, back when he suffered with his penile wood not going down, and then the gurls all thinkin', it was for them.
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Re: Igor

Postby Jakob » Thu May 11, 2017 3:59 pm

Igor wakes up. Had another dream of coffee and cream. Oh its not... is he.. awake... ahh no yes
whats it matter

Later, at breakfast, he is reminded. He winks at her, she seems to know.

Day and night blend together, have been for weeks. Igor pays no mind to the difference he once new.
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Re: Igor

Postby Meno_ » Fri May 12, 2017 12:29 pm

Then he thinks perhaps there is no difference, only one of degrees of shade, the greyness off it all permeating background with fore, as if with the passage of time everything flattening out, pressed invariably by the gravity of time.
The cab driver on way to the wharf told a story of a fare he has only a week ago, this woman holding a very shaken baby, crying loud, very upset. He thought she may even not be the natural mother because she did not try to comfort it, and she looked suspiciously around seeming disheveled and frightened.

The next day, the driver read in the paper that a little two year old baby was de-gutted, her empty carcass found thrown by the wayside, her internal organs probably sold.

He should have done something , he confessed, he has a bad feeling.

A day in the life.
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Re: Igor

Postby Jakob » Fri May 12, 2017 2:44 pm

Who would do something like that, Igor thought, and grinned.

He was planning to pay an old friend in a nearby town a visit, and do some more gutting.
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Re: Igor

Postby Jakob » Fri May 12, 2017 3:35 pm

Igor took the train to Obronko, the city of his friend. He stopped on the way from the station to the hospital where the guy worked as a guard, to get some gutting knives. Oh it was a glorious day in Obronko.

Igor stopped for some doughnuts. They werent very good but he didnt mind.
He was about to be served... something very good indeed.
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Re: Igor

Postby Jakob » Fri May 12, 2017 3:42 pm

The friends name was Constantine, after the Christian emperor. He wasnt much of a Christian, or an Emperor for that matter - but he had good liquor. He also had a little son he didnt take care of but loved anyway. Igor wondered if the kid were alright, if he wasnt sick or anything, or god forbid, was harvested, like was happening more and more in Obronko.

Anyway, he was sure the kid would be fine. He shouldnt think so darkly.

He arrived in his friends street.
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Re: Igor

Postby Jakob » Sat May 13, 2017 5:09 pm

Turns out his friend wasnt home.
Probably for the best.
They werent that goodly friends anyhow.

Igor forgot all about the thing and got on a commuter train which then blew up but was recovered from the past by Matt Damon.
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Re: Igor

Postby Meno_ » Sun May 14, 2017 1:16 am

Obronko was a little town with one lonely skyscraper embarrassingly erect toward a threatening sky foreboding but full of some kind of hopeful scent. Constantine and Igor hand in hand wir spacierengang toward the little square embellished by Igor's family crest, he was home now, and tomorrow they are off on a business venture, into a backwoods town even smaller then this one minus one erect skyscraper.

A German fellow had a circus type vaudeville there, and ha screamed with a sigh that the gurls are beautiful there, and that sailors song lonely under the sheltering sky could be heard.
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Re: Igor

Postby Meno_ » Sun May 14, 2017 1:32 am

Meanwhile the whereabouts of Constantine's little boy remains a mystery, never not with standing what the taxi driver so eloquently narrated about the little baby girl's unfortunate end.

Igor did not elaborate further then The Castle grounds permitted for there existed a deliberate and formeciiusly designed set of barbed wires and other security measures to trespass info in and out the less then porous wall designed to keep desirable and the unwanted separate.

The bells could be heard rolling in the far hills now she the variable green shades were beginning to be saturate with shades of black and grey.
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Re: Igor

Postby Meno_ » Sun May 14, 2017 4:08 am

And always remember who you are the he old harangue tolled in Igor's mind as he remembered Thomas Wolf paraphrased by his late aunt as she warned you can't go back home again, at a time in his younger days when such Heraclitus type foundering did not yet enter his cranium.

Colonialism is resplendent here in this little town with poor little beggar boys for whom the heart nearly extinguishes, yet, can not for resins they do not comprehend.

Cursed are the cruel dictators sitting pretty in the trappings of enchanted cruelty, the democracy came too suddenly, cursed education inconvenienced the renaissance princes of the church who saw it coming, but enshrined in mystical hocus pocus, defended themselves cleverly, which poor m. Antoinette could not. Blessed those huge-a-nots. The results are overcoming Europe in a big way, their guilty conscience not absolved by the Crusades. The last children's crusade reminiscent to the children thrown to the battle field by a.Hitler, when all the young men were only lines of lament ,whrithes of songs thrown as flowers unto unsung graves.
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Re: Igor

Postby barbarianhorde » Mon May 15, 2017 7:28 pm

In the end he met Constantine, the next week. The man was accompanied by his boy. Igor felt a pang of relief. He had had bad dreams, and hasn't been able to determine with certainty what was just synapses firing, and what was... well, also synapses firing, but less randomly so.

He bought the boy a salted herring. It was just a thing Igor tended to give people. He didn't know any better.
It is true that liberty is precious; so precious that it must be carefully rationed.
~ Владимир Ильич Ульянов Ленин

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Re: Igor

Postby Fixed Cross » Sun May 21, 2017 11:52 pm

Well, Igor thought. Im hungry. And not for just food.
As a kid, with tea-time, he would crave the moon.
So smooth, such a perfect cookie.

Now, he went out in the woods and ate some roots, and then went into the barn and got his shotgun.

Crackling underwood, ah delicious feeling
Igor aims his barrel at nothing, the dark.

not much game here but you never know
a rabbit might do

SLAM
he cracks open a round at a first glimmer of a shadow.
It was just a bird. Or he just missed.
The strong do what they can, the weak accept what they must.
- Thucydides

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Re: Igor

Postby Fixed Cross » Tue Jun 06, 2017 12:07 am

Now eagor eats the prey like ten ants carry a large leaf to security of vault and mother-queen. That's how he raged, how he ravaged his cow, that he took, stole downright tall from the boor next door, Teun. Teun was a miscreant. He and his wife - Igot thought so anyway - he and his wife - a miscreant - his - not his wife, well she also but m - yes - the cow had barely fit through the hole in the wiring. But eagor was not for ten men for-feared. He pushed the cow through so that it actually went through, it felt like solving a rubics cube, except this one tasted better. It was not the roast, but the juice. Really, that did it. The juice... then he went on to turn the tv where the Bill Cosby trial was commencing.
The strong do what they can, the weak accept what they must.
- Thucydides

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Re: Igor

Postby barbarianhorde » Sat Jul 01, 2017 1:14 am

Igor was back in his basement.
He turned on the tv.
Then he realized he dont have a tv.
what, he turned around
someone sitting there.
Gr... gr..
grandpa?
well what do you know. Back from the dead.
Or was... Igor.... dead?

He kneaded his skin. No he was alive.

weird.
But fun.
It is true that liberty is precious; so precious that it must be carefully rationed.
~ Владимир Ильич Ульянов Ленин

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Re: Igor

Postby Fixed Cross » Wed Jul 26, 2017 4:06 pm

Now Igor lay in bed as he had just woken up and heard the rain pounding and washing the window, as he was in an apartment high, high above the city streets, which were filled with nondescript passers by and expensive cars letting out roaring sounds in the wilderness. Now Igor turned and tried to get some more sleep. It was three AM and it was early for breakfast but ... his dreams pushed him out of sleep and finally out of bed. He made coffee and sat at the window, close to where the rain was lashing in torrents and where the sound was most crisp, and Igor felt very good.
The strong do what they can, the weak accept what they must.
- Thucydides

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Thunderbolt steers all things.
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Re: Igor

Postby Meno_ » Thu Jul 27, 2017 6:39 pm

Feeling good, after sipping coffee, he thought of going on an outing. But not before tidying the puddle in his apartment up for the shattered glass, leaked the previous nights rain, but today only fair weather forecast, and oddly being summer seemed as premature fall, with the scent of the burning of hey, the white furl of grey,
as curling out of chimneys ominous of the coming cover of white snow on red ceramic tile.

Igor sighed , to someone in tow,in a way sounding low: so short did this summer last,even though in its midst, and he looked back,noticed no one, yet still composed.

He must sustain, which little left, then those that still, shook, in his bones. And then again the feeling, the one in tow, left behind, but not too far, behind.
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Re: Igor

Postby Fixed Cross » Wed Aug 30, 2017 3:16 am

Now he walked the lane of his old memory which was then crooked but he walked it straight this time. Igor was a straight-walker straight-talking outlaw and he saw the horizon with blistering certitude. He had coffee at the roadstop and then went on. The goal was now the end of even having a goal, Igor only wanted to land at the next place where there was nothing to find but himself. He had become the goal, and noticed that apple pie tasted sweeter. But he went on, with his truckload of pianos and the thoughts of piano-teachers in shadowy afternoons around 4 a clock tea, and the potholes were like thunderstorms in his conscience. But still, everything tasted so good, and he went on and on, because at each stop there was apple pie. And god got really, really bored, and plus, there wasn't any apple pie allowed up there, so fuck. What now, you know. Being god, there is a certain problem. But Igor was on his way.
The strong do what they can, the weak accept what they must.
- Thucydides

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- Heraclitus
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