Tag Archives: fiction

It’s About Time: Bud, Beon, and the Bots

kcoartsplit1

Sunday, July 2, 2017—This is a scene from my novel, a decades-old perpetual work in progress.  Superficially sci-fi, it is based on a philosophy that life is immortal, everything has consciousness, and everything runs its course then evolves into something else.  Time and space are illusions within a “spacious present.”  Death is like a phase change–like water converting to steam–while retaining the essential qualities of water.  From this perspective, there is no end point, and the process is the goal.

The purpose of the novel is to make you smile.  Let me know if you want more.

CHAPTER 4

CAUSE AND EFFECT

The sun, shining through dingy, crocheted curtains, cast a mosaic of light and shadow across the worn rug. By the angle of the light and content of the shadows, Joe knew it was at least 11 AM.

His head throbbed with an intensity of 200 on a one-to-ten scale.  The light hurt his eyes, but he didn’t have the courage to move.  He remained curled stiff, eyes clenched shut, until his bladder forced him to attempt the impossible and get out of bed.

He moaned, then winced.  He eased to a slouching position at the edge of the bed, resting his aching forehead between tender hands.  Slowly, ever so slowly, he stood and staggered to the bathroom, carefully shielding his eyes from the light.  He downed two aspirin and then a third, to abort the stroke he must be having.  It was at least a stroke. Maybe an aneurysm had burst.  He stared into the mirror.  Images of his certain, agonizing, and imminent death spread like acrid black goo across his quivering brain.

“I’m dying,” he told his haggard face. It stared back at him—coldly critical, his appearance substandard today, even for him.  He and his reflection eyed each other.  He noted the dark eye sockets, red eyes, fuzzy vision, chin stubble, wrinkles, and greasy hair.  He didn’t smell too good, either.  Let the embalmer handle it, he decided.  That’s what he’s paid for.

He trod a wobbly path through the living room to the kitchen, where the percolator was full of yesterday’s grounds.  His stomach wasn’t feeling much like coffee, but his head told him he was in caffeine withdrawal.  He cursed Marian for getting him so drunk that he forgot to prepare the coffee pot.  He imagined her boiling in a vat of coffee, begging for mercy.

Suddenly, Beon’s face loomed across Joe’s inner screens.  The balding, round visage grinned like the Buddha, his eyes innocuous, his portent ominous.  Joe’s head pounded harder, and his knees felt weak.  An image of lab rats, pinned to boards and randomly shocked, blotted out Beon’s face.  Then, the lab rats became little Joes, with Beon delivering the shocks.

Joe listed the objective, measurable reasons for his agony.  Unendurable pain. Undetectable caffeine levels. Betrayal by his only friend.  Violation of sacred coffee ritual, and death without absolution.  Beon.  He threw fresh coffee in the pot, spilling half the grounds on the counter, creating yet another reason to feel miserable.

Percolator finally started, Joe turned to face new trouble.  He opened the freezer and scowled at empty ice trays.  The little Joes in his head jumped and slumped.

He dragged his failing carcass to the couch. He imagined the pain in his head could power a small city, if he could figure out how to harness the energy.  Not today, though.  And tomorrow wasn’t looking too good, either.

Beon’s face returned, and with it, thoughts of the healing machine.  Joe wondered if it could cure his headache.  “Yes,” said Beon’s image.

“Who asked you?”  Joe demanded, not realizing he spoke out loud.

“You did.”  Joe decided he was going crazy, too.  “DALE,” said the face.  “Diet-Associated Life Enhancer.”

Joe covered his ears, but it did no good.  Beon’s image swelled in his head, and dream pictures bombarded his brain, rocking his scientific foundations.  The throbbing and pounding got louder, clanging against his skull.  Joe closed his eyes and waited to die.  Through it all, Beon’s face smirked, as if he enjoyed Joe’s suffering.

But death defied him, and Beon continued to grin.  Joe glanced around the room.  A single picture, hung askew, showed a listing clipper ship, an artifact left by the previous tenant.  George White left a few pieces of tired furniture, too, good enough for Joe.  His mailbox in the foyer downstairs still bore White’s name.  When neighbors called him “George,” Joe didn’t bother to correct them.  It was as good a name as “Joe.”

Now Joe wondered for the first time what happened to George White.  His couch may not look great, but it had personality.  It was warm, comfortable, inviting.  It was friendly.  It was taking care of him, helping him feel better, as a friend would do.

“I have tangible evidence that you existed,” he told the former tenant, “even if we’ve never met.  I still get your mail.  Beon is only imaginary, but he’s torturing me, and I can’t get away from him.”

Joe’s eyes began to blur.  His stomach felt queasy.  Vague terrors swept over him, and sweat poured from his upper body.  He wiped his face with a dirty napkin and dropped it on the floor.  “This is only a hangover.  It clouds my perspective, makes me think crazy thoughts.  It was only a dream.  A machine like that is impossible, and Beon doesn’t exist.”

Fiction: Belle, 0806

by Katharine C. Otto
Posted April 13, 2016 katharineotto.wordpress.com

“Help me,” cries the aging but still beautiful Belle.  Huge bejeweled rings sparkle on her liver-spotted hands, and diamond pendants drag cuts into her earlobes.  Her eyes are wide with pain and fear.

He can see that she is fragile.  She limps and leans heavily on the banister.  The modern Southern Gentleman takes her tenderly in his arms, soothes her sobs, and says he, too, suffers.  No one understands him.  People can be so cruel.  They gossip, tell lies.  He feels he can trust her.

But today’s version of the Southern Lady has 150 years of experience under her Oscar de la Renta sweatsuit.  She has thrown the corset into landfill, invested in liposuction, and now breathes a lot easier.

“Are you proposing?” she asks.

“Not exactly,” he stammers.

“Good.  I don’t believe in marriage.”

“Nor I,” he says, with a sigh of relief.  “I propose a toast, instead.”

He pulls a bottle of Chivas Regal from a shimmering sack and offers it to Belle.  She pours hefty dollops into crystal tumblers. They toast their mutual understanding with delicate sips.  He kisses her.

They toast their understanding again.  And again.  They lose count.  She pours more Chivas.

He pops a Viagra.  What they do the rest of the night is unprintable.

He promises to return for dinner that evening.  He blows a kiss goodbye from his convertible Saab.  She spends the whole day cooking.

At dusk, Gent gets lost on the way to Belle’s colonial townhouse.  He stops at the Oglethorpe Club, then the First City Club, or was it the other way around?  He stops at Johnny Gannem’s for directions.  He stops at O’Malley’s to get a cup of coffee, and doesn’t remember how he got home.

She waits and waits.  She tries to call his cell phone and gets a voice mail.  The dinner overcooks.  She cries.  She takes a bite of the salmon in white wine and dill sauce, decides it’s awful, and throws it away.  She finishes the white wine while staring into the glass, an antique, engraved collectible that she bought for too much money downtown.

She goes to bed, worrying that Gent has been killed, or worse.  She must find him.  She must.  But she’ll worry about it tomorrow.  She falls asleep and dreams of stock in Pfizer.

Sell the TV and Read

If I am opinionated, these are my teachers.

If I am opinionated, these are my teachers.

katharineotto’s recommended reading so far

October 10, 2015–CURRENT READFDR, Jean Edward Smith, 2007

Independent Study of Literature, History, Culture, Medicine, Economics, Politics, and Philosophy
As of October, 2015

History, Economics, and Politics

Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776, Thomas Jefferson and committee

United States Constitution, ratified in 1788-1790 by 13 states. Many authors.

The Wealth of Nations, Adam Smith, 1776

The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, Benjamin Franklin, 1771-1790

The Autobiography of Thomas Jefferson, Thomas Jefferson, 1821

Washington: The Indispensible Man, James Thomas Flexner, 1969, 1973, 1974

Alexander Hamilton, Ron Chernow, 2004

Thomas Jefferson: A Life, William Sterne Randall, 1993

The Real Lincoln: A New Look at Abraham Lincoln, His Agenda, and an

Unnecessary War, by Thomas J. DiLorenzo, 2002, 2003

A People’s History of the United States: 1492-Present, Howard Zinn, 1980-2003

The Creature from Jekyll Island: A Second Look at the Federal Reserve,

G. Edward Griffin, 1994-2007 (realityzone.com)

The Robber Barons, Matthew Josephson, 1934, 1962

Confessions of an Economic Hit Man, John Perkins, 2004

Capitalism: The Unknown Ideal, A collection of essays by Ayn Rand, Alan Greenspan,

Nathaniel Branden, and Robert Hessen, 1946-1967

Capitalism and Freedom, Milton Friedman, 1962, 1982, and 2002

Empire of Debt: The Rise of an Epic Financial Crisis,

William Bonner and Addison Wiggin, 2006

None Dare Call It Conspiracy, Gary Allen, with Larry Abraham, 1971

A Republic, Not an Empire: Reclaiming America’s Destiny, Patrick J. Buchanan, 1999

Why Government Doesn’t Work, Harry Browne, 1995

The Fair Tax Book, Neal Boortz and US Rep John Linder (R-GA) (Not.)

Supercapitalism, Robert B. Reich, 2007

The Waste Makers, Vance Packard, 1960

Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid, Jimmy Carter, 2006

Judging Thomas: The Life and Times of Clarence Thomas, Ken Foskett, 2004

The Water Lords: Ralph Nader’s Study Group Report on Industry and

Environmental Crisis in Savannah, Georgia, James M. Fallows, 1971

Plastic: A Toxic Love Story, Susan Freinkel, 2011

Open Veins of Latin America: Five Centuries of the Pillage of a Continent,

Eduardo Galeano, 1973, 1997

Cuba: A New History, Richard Gott, 2004

Wild Swans: Three Daughters of China, Jung Chang, 1991

The Prince, Niccolo Machiavelli, written 1513, published 1532

Medicine

Overdo$ed America, John Abramson, MD, 2004

The Truth About the Drug Companies: How they Deceive Us and What to Do About It,

Marcia Angell, MD, former editor-in-chief of the New England Journal of

Medicine, 2004, 2005

Philosophy and Memoirs

My Family and Other Animals, Gerald Durrell, 1956

Cheaper by the Dozen, Frank. B. Gilbreth, Jr. and Ernestine Gilbreth Carey, 1948, 2002

Tales From the Time Loop, David Icke, 2003

Rats, Lice and History: The Biography of a Bacillus, A Bacteriologist’s Classic Study of    a World Scourge, Hans Zinsser, 1934

Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed, Jared Diamond, 2005

A Man Without a Country, Kurt Vonnegut, 2005

Walden, Henry David Thoreau, 1854

Fiction 

Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell, 1936

The Lost World, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, 1912

Life of Pi, Yann Martel, 2002

The Kitchen God’s Wife, Amy Tan, 1991

Empire Falls, Richard Russo, 2001

Moby Dick, Herman Melville, 1851

Invisible Man, Ralph Ellison, 1947

Uhuru, A Novel of Africa Today, Robert Ruark, 1962

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith, 1943

The Jungle, Upton Sinclair, 1906

Of Mice and Men, John Steinbeck, 1937

The Idiot, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, 1868-1869

1984, George Orwell, 1949

Animal Farm, George Orwell, 1946

Oil!, Upton Sinclair, 1926

All the King’s Men, Robert Penn Warren, 1946

Uncle Tom’s Cabin, Harriet Beecher Stowe, 1852

The Octopus, Frank Norris, 1901

The Good Earth, Pearl S. Buck, 1931

The Old Man and the Sea, Ernest Hemingway, 1952

Remembrance Rock, Carl Sandburg, 1948

The Island of Dr. Moreau, HG Wells, 1896

Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury, 1953

Paradigms

Flatland, A Romance of Many Dimensions, Edwin A. Abbott, 1884

Man’s Search for Meaning, Viktor E. Frankl, 1959

The Tao of Physics, Fritjof Capra, 1975

The “Unknown” Reality, Jane Roberts (A Seth Book), 1979

Put your taxes to work. Use your public library.