|| -------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A . singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora ------------------- ----------- OSOAWEEK--ISSUE 103--7/12/96 <-------  ||  OsoaWeek  ||  Issues  ||  Book 8  ||  -------> (Cup OWis103, Created v1 (4/27/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = [[BEGIN103OW]] [[01103CV]] * * * O S O A W E E K 1 0 3 * * * July 12, 1996 "The weekly ezine of Obliviana Super Occult Amusement!" by Frank Edward Nora CONTENTS 01 103 CV--Cover 02 103 LA--Lord of Obliviana 03 103 LM--Life Mysteries 04 103 SU--Superior OsoaWeek103, July 12, 1996 Twelfth issue of OsoaWeek Book Eight Written by Frank Edward Nora (except where noted) Published weekly by Obliviana Super Occult Amusement obliviana@aol.com 1-800-OBLIVIANA http://www.obliviana.com/~osoa All contents copyright 1996 Frank Edward Nora Regarding this file, you are free to make digital copies, so long as they're not altered or sold. All other forms of reproduction require permission. An Obliviana Cup containing this file will be available. Stay tuned for more details. ASCII Characters: 4817 / Words: 867 / Lines: 153 Days late: 23 *OW* [[02103LA]] Lord of Obliviana Sun 8/4/96 * 2:57 PM * home * Tarb 4432? In the hundreds, hey? Cool. Get all Obliviana. *OW* [[03103LM]] Life Mysteries LIFE MYSTERY 11 "Parallel" by John Nora These days I drive around a relatively new white Ford pick-up truck. All it needs, now and then, is a lube-job. And it has been currently, at random, affixed to my identity, whitish, whitely. My friend in the muddy bar parking lot said, "What happened to the Honda?" Now, at the time I didn't have a smart thing to say. But sitting at the white iron patio set on this Saturday I would say to you, "Which Honda? I had a couple Hondas." My first was a dingy used Accord, my inaugural, mumbling high school car. I was driving my sister in it when the brakes went. Why, I'd drive that car up and down the wooded hill-roads of Newman's Lane and Chimney Rock Road, and through Somerville and around the Circle. Now I was smashing it into our garage-door frame. The other Honda was the CRX of my latter adult years, which I would also drive back and forth on Route 22 to buy cigarettes, and up and down the wooded hill-roads, such as Newman's Lane, and politely through Somerville, and around, around the Circle. That car had belonged to my sister, as did most of the cars I've driven around. My sister is an aspiring actress whose limitless histrionics behind the wheel would fender-bender, if not outright maraud, those cars, and lose her license. I'd well-along drive the cars. A carapace-black Saab I would coast over to the temp-job at the computer-console manufacturing complex, and up Newman's Lane, and down winding through Chimney Rock Road past the dynamite-frosted Quarry, and past the Flemington Mall and The Wiz and the bowling alley, looping, or tangenting, the Circle. My sister got her license back and totalled the Saab. I was away at school, anyway. She also wrapped around a telephone pole like a stale stick of chewing gum a beige Volvo 240 DL, which I had also driven for a couple of years, in school up in New England, and out and back down, and I rode the clutch, and in again, and back up, but the car was perhaps scrap beige treasure by then. I have a cousin named Katie-Kim, who before all this, in Montana, stole and crashed three or four of my grandmother's and aunt's cars, totalled 'em, ditched 'em, as a parallel. *OW* [[04103SU]] Superior SUPERIOR 564 * 8/4/96 Fuck me with some relatively great literature and technology. Werid, maybe a month, and such is sun. Locking around, stir me up, city is dead and alive and lazy you are lazy. Porno underbrush, strumming an impossibly complex string instrument, we are amused like chiefs. But now it is a walk to a train station, and it is SO good. SUPERIOR 565 * 8/4/96 Real backwoods, corroded camera feminine dance, luck being the thing, ending the tightening. Coarse hotel feeling, wooden CD, romantic and American and free, nature is the expression of man's light, and I am cuckoo. SUPERIOR 566 * 8/4/96 Three being and the impression junker. More true by the second, it is a few days for the company, but a night with a girl and a night with just you and the mall for you. I see video tapes about to fall, I see birdies. Am of a pinball mind you know. Am loving three Pittsburgh calculators. SUPERIOR 567 * 8/4/96 Preach. Of blue metal canister. And of great, sunny days and of wandering. Objects persist, that is their way. Look. Gray plastic is good. Coffee is good. Pilgrimage, pocketful of nickels, driving daddy's Volvo to 7-11, late night, get coffee. Power strip. In bed alone and lusty. White walls, barren of tools, and I am threatening paper clips to defy the dance of the mystery, and I am knowing you, and it is dreadful the lack of space and it is thoughtful the finding of cassettes and for you I am not youing you. Degraded, denatured, the road is fixed, and I am following your footsteps, and it will lead to a great place, a great life. *OW* [[END103OW]] -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- -----