Monday, May 16, 2022

The Door

This is a FITK re-post

Monday, May 16, 2005

Come. The door is open.
We’ll cross the threshold
Through that door. The bed awaits.
The bed is inviting, even
more so than he

Now is the time.
This event was
Years in the making

We've waited long enough.
Someone knows what he's doing
and I think I know it too

I won’t pull you in.
Am I pushing him
or is he pulling me?

In or out, it's up to you.
Should I? Will I? Why wouldn’t I?
The door is open.
We’ll cross the threshold
You said you wanted to, now you don’t.
Where’s my confidence?
Uncompromised virgin.
I am virgin, see me shudder
Uncompromised you will remain—virgin you will not.
I won't let him see me wince
Or will you?
I want this, I think...
We've already begun.

By Comica and Professor Batty

1 Comment:

Comica said…

Collaboration is fun!

By Professor Batty


Comments: 0 




Sunday, May 15, 2022

The Eagle Has Landed

This is a FITK re-post

Sunday, May 15, 2005

The Apollo astronauts were ready to make the final descent from lunar orbit to the surface.

The '63 Ford came to a halt in the darkened country lane.

They had been in lunar orbit for several hours, preparing for this event.

The young couple had been seeing each other for several weeks, spending their time together in closer and closer intimacy.

"Mission Control, we are ready for our approach trajectory adjustment."

"Let me push the seat back all the way, we'll get a little more comfortable…"

Grasping the joystick, the pilot's firm touch, developed with years of training, maneuvered the tiny craft into the proper attitude.

His eagerness, already expressing itself, needed a careful rearranging, so as not to be deployed too soon.

The tiny lunar excursion module enveloped the explorers on their way toward touchdown.

The family sedan became a love-nest for the excited couple.

As the moon's surface neared, the astronauts breathing and heartrate increased dramatically.

The lovers gasps were coming quicker now, their pulses raced faster and faster.


Touchdown.

The crew prepared for their lunar exploration.

Touchdown.

The lovers’ caresses now reached intimate areas.


"Mission Control, this is Tranquility Base. The eagle has landed."

"Oh."

"Roger, You've got a couple of guys down here turning blue."

Later, the young explorers looked up at the rising moon.

The lunar explorers looked up at the earth-rise.

"It's really beautiful, isn't it?"

"It's really beautiful, isn't it?"

"...God..."

"...God..."

By Professor Batty



3 Comments:

Prashanth said...

hhahahahahahahahahhaha that was incredibly funny....had a ball reading it...ROFLOL

Sarah said...

Call me naive, but I didn't think it was funny at all. I thought it was beautiful.

Comica said...

This is perhaps my favorite post by the Professor yet !

By Professor Batty


Comments: 1 




Saturday, May 14, 2022

Rocket Fuel

This is a FITK re-post

Saturday, May 14, 2005

One of my joys of adolescence was creative destruction.

It seemed that nothing was safe from my urge to dismantle, blow-up and otherwise ruin my immediate surroundings. I was encouraged in this behavior by that bastion of middle-class America, The Reader's Digest. In between abridged novels (Gone With the Wind - in only 200 pages!) and helpful health related features (I am Joe's Colon) the editors (who must have been drunk that day) published a story about teenaged rocketeers—including a formula for rocket fuel! Well, after my buddy Tom and I read that, it was only a matter of time before we put it to a proper “scientific” test. The science room at our junior high had the proper ingredients so we mixed them together during “science club” after school one day. Now you may ask: “Where was your faculty advisor?” and the answer would be: “Who knows?” Unlike the virtual lock-down conditions of many of the schools today, in the innocent sixties students often spent a great of time unsupervised. At any rate, we had procured a tin can to be our test vessel (so as not to damage any of the schools equipment!) and proceeded to ignite what we assumed to be a small amount of fuel.

What did we learn from this experiment?

#1. Rocket fuel has A LOT OF ENERGY per mass.

#2. When you ignite rocket fuel in a tin can, the can immediately turns red-hot.

#3. Any combustible material adjacent to aforementioned tin can will be immediately charred.

#4. It takes a long time to sand out char marks from a wooden table-top.

#5. Science club was canceled for the rest of the year.

Well, at least they did allow us to continue our studies—I’m sure if we were students today and tried a stunt like that we would be incarcerated until our twenty-first birthday, and then would have to begin a lifetime of crime.

Somehow I think that The Reader’s Digest doesn’t publish rocket fuel formulas anymore.

By Professor Batty


Comments: 0 




Friday, May 13, 2022

Fine, I won’t walk around at night…

This is a FITK re-post

Friday, May 13, 2005

The rain had begun to fall. Luckily, I was wearing the new rain jacket and was apathetic. In fact, the jaunt now had purpose. Let the rain wash away my restlessness and let the jacket catch the extra droplets of relief. The bars on West Main were hopping most metaphorically, and thanks to a sharp eye, I know where to catch one of my former professors in case I have a question on the shapes of galaxies or wormholes (sometimes I do, y’know).

It’s Finals Week here, but you couldn’t tell with the number of college students skipping to and fro to various apartments, smelling of Miller Lite, Jack Daniels, and that once deceased Bohemian spirit, now urbanized and modernized. The atmosphere was pretty carefree. It was like the night before a festival, and only the rain hinted otherwise (rain normally comes the day of festivals)…

People on their cell phones, some with Slurpees,and others with girlfriends. Truly fascinating spectacles for a Monday night romp.

I had just gotten to the section of West Main where I'm between FanTastic Thrift and Family Dollar, and the rain fell harder. A luxurious car was slowing down as the others were speeding past, and I knew what was coming. First came the greeting.

Three males, obviously out-of-towners seeking a bit of fun.

“HEY! Do you know where the strip bars are at?!”

“No, I'm sorry I can't help you there!”


“Where are YOU going? We stopped to talk to you!”

“I’m just out for a walk!”

“Where are you from?”

“Oh, five hours away from here.”

“Oh, we’re farther away than that. We’re from California!”

“What are you doing all the way over here then?”

“We came to D.C. and we thought we’d drive through here!”

“Ah, I see!”

"Do ya' need a ride?"

“Oh no, I’m fine, thank you though!”

“Are you suuuure?”

“Yes, yes. I’m just out for a stroll.”

“You need a ride to that home five hours away?”

“No, no. I’m fine, I’m fine really! Thank you! Go have fun!”

The driver didn’t look older than 16, so it was tough for me to take them seriously. I felt so much older than him. He had a light, cheery voice, whereas his comrades looked to be in their late twenties.

I continued on my walk, not giving the three a second thought. I was approaching another intersection when I saw that same luxurious car pull out from a side street, and zoom off. At first, I thought they had finally found a bar to their liking, but then I realized that wasn’t the case. I saw the car keep going into the distance, but it was slowing down.

West Main is a one way street, so I decided not to finish my romp, but to turn around and go back the way I came.

The rain stopped the moment I turned around, and campus was soon in sight again.

Lesson learned.

By Comica


1 Comment:

Professor Batty said…

… and so the three stooges’ freedom to drive around in a gas guzzler and harass women squelches your freedom to enjoy a healthy walk… grr.

By Professor Batty


Comments: 1 




Thursday, May 12, 2022

The Weight

This is a FITK re-post

Thursday May 12, 2005

Take a load off Fanny,
take a load for free…
Take a load off Fanny,
and put the load right on me…
-J.R. Robertson

Man, nothing could get me down today; I flew into work singing, breezed through my shift on overdrive, came home, made supper for the Weaver, and I still felt great. Now it isn’t that I am never down, and it’s not that I had any particular reason for my happiness, it was just a great day.

So, in light of this situation, I give you this no-obligation proposition:

I am now accepting and will willingly bear your burdens, funks, foul moods, and any of your other minor ailings. Com’on! Pile ’em up! Here’s a chance to drop some of that baggage that you’ve been carrying around. I promise not to give it back! A deal like this won’t last long—act now! That old heartbreak? Give it here. A sense of not belonging? Drop it off pal, no prob. Feel that you can’t talk when you really need to? I’ll pry that cat off your tongue. Feeling a little better? Good. That’s all there is to it! LET IT ALL HANG OUT! I saw that little smile! You don’t have to suffer that way—let it be me. Self esteem issues? You’re alright by me. I’ve got Karma to burn, baby, burn: toss your bad vibes on my pyre. It’s here. It’s now. It’s free. It’s just for you. Why do I do it? Because I like your style and I hate to see it cramped. Now go’on. Have a ball. It’s your turn.

I’m bleeding.

By Professor Batty

5 Comments:

Comica said…

You’re just too cute sometimes!

RS said…

Does the offer still stand?

Anonymous said…

Just a quiet, friendly chat about guitar amps and old recording gear will do just fine, thank you…

… and yes, thanks for all of those times - you’ve brightened my day on more than one occasion.

DJZ

Professor Batty said…

Comica- I’ll do cute, if I have to…

Reshma- of course…

DJZ- just picked up a Tascam 40-4 at the thrift store for $50- it was dirty but works 100%, are you looking for a free Teac 3340?

lab munkay said…

“… karma to burn… ” I love that Batty.

By Professor Batty


Comments: 1 




Wednesday, May 11, 2022

First Lady

Eliza Reid (left), who I first heard of from the Iceland Writers Workshop, was in town at The ASI yesterday, giving a talk on Secrets of the Sprakkar, her new book, (subtitled “Iceland’s Extraordinary Women and How They Are Changing the World”.)

Eliza’s book discusses Sprakkar, an ancient Icelandic word meaning extraordinary or outstanding women, looking at Iceland as a whole and focusing on several individuals.

As I listened to her speak, I realized that her book's subtitle has been a major theme of my life over the last twenty+ years. There are dozens of Icelandic women who have influenced me: directly, indirectly, even at a personal level. It may have started with Björk, but has grown far beyond that.

Eliza’s talk was humorous and  informative, going into many of the quirks and features (both good and bad) of Modern Iceland and its people. She did bring up “pool culture” as the great equalizer; my many hours in the “hot pots” can confirm that.

One unique aspect of Eliza’s life is the fact that she happens to be married to the President of Iceland! She did have some stories about that as well as showing several scenes from her life as “first lady”, a non-official position but one that she enjoys, with some misgivings. Her New York Times opinion piece lays out those paradoxes in some detail.
Here’s the story of her serendipitous rise to prominence:

By Professor Batty


Comments: 0 




Happy hour

This is a FITK re-post

Wednesday May 11, 2005

Yeah. Uhu. Is that right? Aha. Ummm. Yeah. Ok. Oh really? Ummm. Right. Aha.

I look at her as she over-eagerly nods her head and takes notes from all that I’m saying. Then she stops and looks at me with her penetrative stare. I feel as if I should have something to say but I know I can’t say the things she wants to hear. Avoiding her eyes I stare out the window and play with my headphones like there is no tomorrow.

Tell me something about you. Aha. Umm. Ok. Uhu. Right. Yeah. And how does that make you feel?

I carefully dodge her questions even though I know she needs to know the answers to be able to help me. I don’t know how any of it makes me feel. I don't know what to tell her. I sink lower and lower on her couch and while she waits for me to open my mouth I wander off on to the other side. To the other side where everything is good and you don’t have to tell middle-aged head bangers how various situations make you feel. To my kingdom, my own little haven, where I decide who I let in and who not. I sometimes wish I could spend all my time there but at the same time I know the day that happens is the day they have to lock me up at some mental institution. Because as much as I like the other side, life is happening on this side. Right here, right now. So I better start coughing up the answers.

Aha. Uhhh. Ok. Right. Aha. Wait. Why? When in doubt, buy a sweater? Uhu. Road Trip? What?. Foreign Mafia? Yeah, we need another session. Next week? Good.

By Little Miss Loopy

By Professor Batty


Comments: 1