Me Katniss, You Peeta

A cross-over fic in which Katniss is Jane, a forlorn human stuck in the jungle with apes. Nevertheless, her thought process is in English, and grammatical English at that.

Peeta enters the picture (Katniss refers to him as “the Peeta creature”) with a tiresome mate named “the Delly.” Apparently, Delly recently had a bout of the fever, so she and Peeta went to the jungle to recuperate, which is where the Peeta encounters Katniss.

Faster than you can say tiddlywinks, Katniss is taken to London by the Peeta, and ensconced in a palatial home. The following conversation ensues (Katniss can already speak English!)

Katniss:  If you are civilly joined, why haven’t you tried procreation? Isn’t that the humans’ goal in life? To create more?

Peeta (hesitantly): Sure. But Delly and I want to take it slow. At a sloth’s pace, if you will.

Katniss: How long have you been joined?

Peeta: Four years.

Katniss: Wow. Some sloths are moving faster than you, I hate to say.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Mourning for Isotope, edited by Christopher Cokinos

Filipinos once had an ancient written language. If I were to show you what the marks look like on a piece of paper,they would look like a series of waves. Like the eye of the Pharaoh I saw in my old high school history books.

— from self’s hybrid essay/memoir/short story The Lost Language, published in Isotope

Isotope was a literary journal based in Utah State. When that university began to make steep budget cuts, the magazine lost the heart of its funding. In 2009, editor Chris Cokinos issued an appeal for support. Terrain.org posted it.

Alas, Isotope lost the fight. Self mourned. It was the only literary journal of its kind, combining science writing and creative writing, a place that joined physicists and playwrights, biologists and memoir writers, and created an exciting new kind of community.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

 

Doppelganger

A few years ago, self received a puzzling phone call from United.

“Ma’am,” the caller said when self answered the phone. “Are you xxxxxxx?”

“Yes,” self said.

“We have your Bible. It got wedged into a crevice at the baggage carousel. Can we have your address so we can mail it to you?”

Self said, “I don’t own a Bible.”

The United guy said, “But it has your name on it.”

Self was having a moment.

“But that can’t be mine.”

Even if self owned a Bible (She does recall having one), she wouldn’t bring it with her on a trip.

But the guy kept insisting it was self’s, because it had her name on it. She actually came very close to believing that she did own a Bible, that she wrote her name on the front of it, that she lost it at SFO because it got wedged in a baggage carousel . . . was she losing her mind?

She doesn’t recall receiving any sort of Bible via snail mail. If it arrived, then where is it? Because after a conversation like that, you can bet she was looking out for it.

Just a few minutes ago, she remembered this call. And an explanation finally finally occurs to her: There must have been another woman with her exact same name on a United flight that day.

Yes, that’s it. That’s the most likely explanation. The Doppelganger explanation.

Dear blog readers: What. Are. The. Odds???

So now she can say she had her very own Haruki Murakami/magical realism moment.

The other she (the doppelganger) carried the Bible around with her. Got off at SFO several years ago. Lost this Bible at the baggage carousel. So it had to have been out of her bag.

Can you imagine someone holding a Bible in her hand at a baggage carousel? First of all, don’t you need two hands to pull off your suitcase? But maybe this woman was traveling with others, so she didn’t have to worry? If that were the case, and she didn’t have to pull her luggage off the carousel, why was she just standing around with the — (Self, can you quit with the de-construction? Because this post is getting very loooong!)

It’s crisis time for the Democrats, Hillary was just diagnosed with bacterial pneumonia, which is actually much more serious than viral pneumonia, and here you are worrying about strangers losing their Bibles?

And isn’t Trump such a lucky son-of-a-gun? His whole election campaign was a high-stakes gamble. He just went for it. And now the only thing standing between him and the presidency is Hillary. And this is such a crazy scenario that self can’t even.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

 

Quote of the Day: BRAZILLIONAIRES

At first, self was skeptical. A book about billionaires? Who needs that? All she needs to do is watch the nightly news . . .

But, she digresses.

She’s currently on Chapter 5: “Prosperity Gospel.”

An offering is an investment . . .  He who gives everything receives everything from God. It’s inevitable. It’s toma la, da ca — a give-and-take with the Lord. If your life didn’t improve, pastors would say your faith wasn’t strong enough, your sacrifices not painful enough.

The chapter spotlights Brazil’s Universal Church, whose pastors are exceptionally aggressive in asking for donations from their decidedly not-wealthy followers. Their leader tells his pastors: “You have to be a superhero for them. You can never be ashamed, never be shy. Demand, demand, demand.”

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

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