? ? tp-e? ="re? h" content="? rl=http://sn? tumor.bl? ot.com/2008/? hite-san? hp" />
? ky T? : white sand? itle>
<styl? pe="? ? " media=? een">
? border-bottom:dotted? #000000? gin-? om:0?
h2 {margin-bottom? ;}
h2#arch? ? addi? op:10px;marg? op:40px;bord? op:dotte? x #999999;}
h3 {padding-top:30px;c? :#555555;padding? tom:0px;margin-botto? x;}
bo? ? -family:? gia,Serif;fo? ize:1em;margin:3%;paddin? x;ba? ound:#ffffff;color:#0000?
div.blogPost {padding-lef;padding-right:1?
div.byline {c? :#555555;}
p#blogg? ? addi? op:20px;}
.blogCom? ? addi? op:30px;color:#555555;padding-bottom? ? gin-? om:0px;font-weight:b?
.blogComm? ? line {fo? ize:1em;? -weight:normal;c? :#555555? gin-right:10px;display:inline}
.blogComment {font-size:1em? gin:3%;c? :#000000;font-we? ? ?
.deleted-comment {font-styl? alic;color:gray;}
#blogf? ?
#postfeeds { }
.paging-? rol-? ainer {
float: right;
margin? ? ? ? x;
font-size: 80%;
}
.unneeded-paging-? rol {
visibility: hidd }
<? le>
? ? ? pe="? ? ? ipt"? nction()? ar a=window;function c(b){th? ={};? .tic? nction(d,i,e){e=e?e:? ? e).getTime();this.t[d]=[e,i]};th? ick("start",null? var f=new c;? timi? Timer:c,load:f};? var ? ll;if(a.chrome&&a.chrome.csi)g=Math.floor(a.chrome.csi().pageT);if(g? ll)if(a.? nal)g=a.gtbE? nal.pageT();if(g? ll)if(a.external)g=a? ernal.pageT;if(g)a.jstiming.pt=g? ch(h){};a.tickAboveFold=function? b=b;var d=0;if(b.offsetParent){do d+=b.offse? ;while(b=b.offse? ent)}b=d;b<=750&&a.jstiming.load.tick("aft")};var j=? ? nction k(){if(!j){j=true;a.jstimload.tick("f? ScrollTime")}}a.addE? ? ? ?a.a? entListener(? oll",k,false):a.atta? ent(? croll",k);
})()? ? t><meta ? ? iv="? ent-Type" conten? ext/html; charset=UTF-8" />
? a name="MSSmartTagsPreventParsing" content="true" />
<meta name="gen? or" ? ent="Blo? " />
<li? el="icon? pe="image/vnd.mi? oft.icon? ef="? ? ww.blogger.com/favicon.ico"/>
<link rel=? ernate" type? plicatio? ? ml" title="Snark? mor ? om" href? tp://snarky.tumo? b-ab? .com/atom.xml" />
<link rel=? ernate" type? plicatio? s+xm? itle="Sn? Tumor - RSS? ef="? ? nark? mor.usb-abacus.c? ? ml" />
<link rel="service.potype? plicatio? ? ml" title="Snark? mor ? om" href? tp:/? .blo? .com/feeds/51310623995325731? ? /def? " />
<li? el="? URI"? e="applicati? ? ml" title="RSD" href? tp:/? .blo? .com/rsd.g?blogID=5131062399532573109" />
<link rel=? ernate" type? plicatio? ? ml" title="Snark? mor ? om" href? tp:/? ? .com/feeds/5131062399532573109/8776962429956935100/comments/default" />
<li? el="stylesheet" type="text/css" href? tp:/? .blo? .com/static/? ? /50269083-blog_c? ols.css"/> <link rel? ? ? ? pe="? ? ? ef="? ? ww.blogger.com/dyn-css/authorization? ? getBlogID=513106239953257310? =b7d18f2e1-46d2-a611-bd4d1edf53a3"/>
</head>
<body>
<!-- To aid wi? he Blogger NavBar -->
<div i? rap4">
<!-- Header -->
<h1>? ky T? </h1>
<!-- Blog ? s -->
<h3>S? day,? tember 13, 2008</h3>
<a name="8776962429956935100"> </a>
<h2>
whi? ? </h2>
<div class="blo? t">
<d? tyle="clear:both;"><? >He slid on the ? ? hich? ? et o? les he'd written up a few years ago. He could fe? he Thai Stick slowing him down. The ? ance to the ? enience ? e was, he calculated? ? ely 47.3 steps away. Or twenty. Dependin? he walked. He giggl? ilently to himself a? imultaneousl? rsed? dealer. He ? the cha? ake hold? eshening? ? ? ion, tamping? n his hair, draining the? ra blood from hi? eballs. ? tood up stra? er, walked more ? osef? , and fe? ? ? as the ? m gave him auton? s--but not direct--c? ol over his ? ? /><br />It was rather like ? ating a large, biped? ? , an? cleared? high marvelously.<br /><br />In? he convenien? tore he strode, to all appearanc? erfe? sober a? ? each? wel? oomed. He scanned for hi? ual Nehi? ? ted for ? ape ? a instead, and--? econd though? ome Combos as well, and maybe those peanuts too-? ned ? nd, paid, and walked? ? he ? , he? vele? the genius. He had full control? t hi? ery acti? as mediated ? he charm, which hovered some? e to the back and right inside his head. It ? ored? thing in? opriately intoxicated.<br /><br />He waited until he? home to? engage, pulling and shifting? ers to operate h? oice? ? ing the <i>khon</i> to himself. One thing he had built into ? he called his Macro? the inabili? o ce? ? own cancellation; he congratulated ? elf again on? brilliance.<br /><br />Man, he was so <i>high</i>.<br /? />He slumped into his f? ite armc? and? ned the TV on. Some Disc? y Channe? llshit, ? t so? eef off Japan. H? ared at the TV, feeling the smoo? elvet of the? ? sly high-def? ion imag? assing a? s hi? ain as he mindle? ? ged on his Combos, Fanta, and pe? s.<br /><br />The phone rang? /><br />"Man," ? aid.<br /><br />The phone rang.<br /? />"? the hell?" ? aid.<br /><br />Prying himself out of his chair, he checked the caller ID. His mother. "Fuck," he said. ? ? ? ? he <i>khon</i> again? t was in? upted wh? ? hone rang a ? d time.<br /? />His hand grabbed the thind lifted it to his ear, ? e his head cocke? self? /><br />"Hi, Mom," his tongue f? ed. "What's up?" it ? inued, nonchalan? all hell. He congratulated ? elf for the tight control of? ? ynx.<br /><br />He m? ? ed himself jerki? ? ? he conve? ion, which h? ? hing to ? ith a cat and sold lady his mother h? truc? an unli? fri? hip with. "That's cool. ? en, I'm gonn? n, okay?" he said finally. "I ha? o go to the ? Office and get my address changed a? tuff."<br /><br />After he hung up, he blew out a ve? recise b? h and sank down ? precisely in his reclinInside his head, he ? sed the ? ons and pull? he l? s to beg? he canceling <i>khon</i>? t nothing came out of his mouth.<br /><br /><i>What?</i> he ? ght to himself, and tried again--this lever here, that button there, then these three toggle? hat ? ? er, and-? /><br /? hing? br />He turn? o look at the charm, this amorphous blob of ? ? ton which ha? tached itself to the back of? mind.<br /><br />He slapped? ? ? sical forehe? ith his meta? ical hand. He'd broken off just befo? he binding! The ? m would judge the canceling inca? ion to b? ? -speak, and would therefore ? ? o allow the ? ? ? ? ? ion.<br /><br />Fuck? /><br />Fuc? ck fuck fuckity fuck? /><br />Okay. Think. Can I ? er my wa? t of this?<br /><br />A memo? prang to min? nbidden. He was in his old house's b? ard,? years old, brig? -colored tent and a ? n in the background,? rounded by balloons. A birthday ? y. <i>His</i> birthd? ? . There was a cake i? ont of him, ? he cooki? ? rectang? ? ? hat came from th? ? ? ore and was the get of a? d wi? ? egic? -placed blan? here nam? ere ? osed to go. He h? een his mother get a sim? cake for his little bro? ? /><br />The? tle ? her.? l. He died a? ? s later, killed by a roc? he ? ed into the ditch behind their house? had taken h? hree? ? o find his brother, and when it finally ? ened, the shock ? went through hi? stem? st felt like a flush of warm? er, then as ? gh his e? e skin had just finished suc on a Wint-O-Green. ? qualled for their mo? , who came a? creamed and ran and call? ? olice, a? hey took? ? ay, and ? ent to b? hat night and thought about the feeling he'd? ten.? k flickering in the spac? st behind hi? ? old him something had happened, but ? asn'? ? hat.<br /><br />. He? <i>stoned</i>. ? s. Why bring tha? ? ? /><br />Think. He could feel the ha? arting, and he knew all ? t the wadded-up ? welded to his insides like ? ? 's e? ack. It was vulnerable, but how?<br /><br />Without warning, the? ers and ? ons and ? ? in front of him began danciAs he watched through hi? es, his ? sto? p and walked to the front door--then? sed ? he keyho? hanging thingy-? t find o? hat ? 's called--and looked in the? ror mounted ? op o? ? /><br />Quite i? ende? , his ha? pidered up a? ? hed down? ingl? ray ? . Hi? m fell back to h? ide, and? bod? where it was. H? ared at ? elf ? he mirror and re? ed he was wearing an? ectant expression. There? no other movement. Belatedly, he re? ? ? pell? encouraging him to take over. Immediately, he began pulling? ers and pushing ? ons, and? bod? un around on? hee? reparing to go back ? ? ecliner-? ? ? inning. He jammed the lever for his right foot nearly ag? t the floor,? it ? sed to come down? /><br />Fin? , he sighed and turn? ? ? ing wheel ba? he o? ? . The charmed body immediately came to a? t and ne? keeled ? , saved from? ? injury ? by the spell's interventione message was clear:? the door.<br /><br />He cadged ? elf ? ide and onto the sidewalk leading do? o th? ? ? ying to turn right in di? ? ? ion to his legs. He sat back in his ? ain's chair.<br /><br />? ? her ? ing me do anything at all?" ? aid ? d. The charm? s remain? ilent, like a co? ? ith a malignant eye.<br /><br />So, then. Wh? as it ma? o do? He ran? ough the Ten Points of Succe? l Cl? Stonerhood: hair, eyes, voice, ? ure, gait, impulse, ? ing,? ion, clo? , and diction.<br /><br />His ha? ? ? h, his eyes bright, his voice well-modulated, his po? ? ler-stra? s gait an un? ied amble that n? hele? uggested? pose, his movement betraying? easonably length? ? ion span? ? ? o wh? , his hearing clear and undi? ted,? every motion falling along a calculated? t-fit li? hat ? ed gently throug? ace with undeviating? tainty, his ? hes ? mpled and well-lered, his dictio? ell, he hadn't had much ? ay, but ? ? ure ? ? ithin ac? able? ? ers.<br /><br />? e parame? had been se? in a co? uct resembling a sing-songy poem that ne? heless contained signifi? <i>khon</i>, words ? ? , that o? ? eali? ithin a ? cribed area to fall ? ? ithin these ? traints. The binding? ollary, whic? evented the ? ? om censoring? thing that m? be one ? hose? ds, had been tacked onto the tail end.<br /><br />He? sti? toned. None ? his was making much ? e. Without much prompting, another m? ? rned up. He was ? teen, in? bedroom, th? ? lights outside fring? ough the blinds and striping? face and chest. He had ? ? covered his ? t <i>khon</i>, o? hat inte? ? ith ? ? ure--an unfortunate one, as his ? book had? urally gone up in smoke.? , the fog cleared and the water ? ed a? ? arents calmed, h? ood ? he dark.<br /><br />Carl? Re? ? /><>He ? that <i>khon</i> could be both ? , very g? al a? ery,? ? ecific. He had opted? specifi? in ? ? ? lar ? m, b? hat was the key ? ? ? nlock his body?<br /? />He wa? iefly distracted when his body fell ? . The enchantment had, f? hatever ? on, abdicated control again. He grabbed the levers i? ont of him, and briefly, wildly ? ? ? rying to cha? he cance? ion. As he began jamming the blinkin? ttons in front of him, he could already tell? eff? ? ? uitless.? hing? coming out.<br /><br />? , fine. He'd pla? s game f? he moment. He began jabbing out ? andom, knocking rs over and ? ping switches. Nothing much ? ened? ? ? body made a? ge, ? ? cle ? oximately six fe? ide befo? etting off in a new direction.<br /><br />He'd gone three bl? before ? ealized ? e he? being driven. He'd told? ? her he needed to go ? he Post Office, after all. L? al. ? he body walked, he began playing at random again, and the gait grew jerky. E? raged, he began to give conf? ing ? ? ? , and watche? the? chin? ew more and more? egular. He gave out a slow, ? ling? ckle. Meltdown City, he was ? ain.<br /><br />The ? shambled past a? k, and he notice? ieflat he seemed to be drawi? ome attention. T? crea? ? tered only d? , and he? ? ? hem ? he c? of children at ? ? /><br />Memory! As he g? led with the machinery b? e him, he felt himself dissolving into a summer day ? ? ark,? h young Carl and a neighborhood kid called Jason? John? y? Jack?? dan.? dan was a little black boy, the son ? he middle school pri? al a? he l? t he? o a ? igen? ional physician'? actice. He brief? emembered Jordan's f? e, All-Star ? ball in high school, starting in? t Virginia, his eventual? urn ? ? own's ne? family ? or. Why, he briefly ered, had he? ? ned out ? ucce? lly?<br /><br />Then he reme? ed Carl, and the gift be? ed by hi? ing ? ? ck it. He wa? aggering around like? ombi? kin gone all gray, eyes all hollow, and ? aw himself in the Post Office's reflective g? facade. Sho? ? rate? ? as he a? sed his appearance a? ealized his ? ggles ag? t th? ell had mani? ? ? elve? ? d.<br /><br />Shrieking ? ted to come across--a siren.? eral. Getting lo? . He? ked ? elf ? nd, barely noticed how his body looked like ? oken? ionette, and? ght a face full of cop. As he went down, he realized he had ? been tackle? as now on his back on th? ound, and was the focal ? er of a circle of police off? s wi? ? gun? awn.<br /><br /><i>Man</i>, ? aid to himself. <i>What a </? zzkill.<br /? />A? tly, he realized he was no longer high, the ? m ca? ndone, and h? opped to the ground, suddenly normal? yle="clear:both; padding? tom:0.25em"></div><br />
<div ? s="bylin? oste? Hugh Va? ? z &? ;# <? ef="? ? nark? mor.usb-abacus.com/2008/? hite-san? hp" titl? erma? link">3:53 PM</a> <span class="item-control blog-admin pid-1556466247">? tyle="bo? :none;" href? tp:/? .blo? .com? t-edit.g?blogID=5131062399532573109&? ID=8776962429956935100" title="Edit ? "><img c? ="icon-action" alt="? c="http:? w.blogger.com:80/img/icon18_? _allbkg.gif" height="18" width="18"></a>? an> </div>
</div>
? class="blogComm? ">
<a name="comments"></a>
Comm?
<a class="com? -link" href=? ps:/? .blo? .com/com? .g?blogID=5131062399532573109&postID=8776962429956935100">Post a Com? </a>
<p id="? feeds"></p>
<br /> <br />
? /> <br />
<a href=? p://? ? ? .usb-abacus.com/index.php">< Home</a>
</div>
<!-? ? e Links -->
<h2 id="arch? ? ? es</h2>
<p>
<a href? tp://snarky.tumo? b-ab? .com/2007_05_01_archive.php"? 2007</a> &? ;
<a href=? p://? ? ? .usb-abacus.com/2007_06_01_archi? hp">June 2007</a> &? ;
<a href=? p://? ? ? .usb-abacus.com/2007_07_01_archi? hp">? 2007</a> &? ;
<a href=? p://? ? ? .usb-abacus.com/2007_08_01_archi? hp">? st 2007</a>&? ;
<a href="http://sn? .tum? sb-a? s.com/2007_09_01_archive? ">September 2007</a>? p;
<? ef="? ? nark? mor.usb-abacus.com/2007_10_0? ? e.php">October 2007</a>&? ;
<a href="http://sn? .tum? sb-a? s.com/2008_01_01_archive? ">Ja? y 2008</a> ? p;
<a href? tp://snarky.tumo? b-ab? .com/2008_03_01_archive.php"? ch 2008</a>&? ;
<a href="http://sn? .tum? sb-a? s.com/2008_04_01_archive? ? ril 2008</a>? p;
<? ef="? ? nark? mor.usb-abacom/2008_07_0? ? e.php">July 2008</a>? p;
<? ef="? ? nark? mor.usb-abacus.com/2008_09_0? ? e.php">Septe? 2008</a> &? ;
<a href=? p://? ? ? .usb-abacus.com/2008_12_01_archi? hp">Dece? 2008</a> &? ;
<a href=? p://? ? ? .usb-abacus.com/2009_01_01_archi? hp">? ary 2009</a>? bsp;
<? ef="? ? nark? mor.usb-abacus.com/2009_02_0? ? e.php">F? ary 2009</a>? p;
<? ef="? ? nark? mor.usb-abacus.com/2010_04_0? ? e.php">April 2010</a> &? ;
? ? ? pe="? ? ? ipt" language="J? ? t">if (l? ion.href.indexOf? ? e")!=-1) documen? ite(? rong><a href=\"http://sn? .tum? sb-a? m/index.php\? rrent Posts</a><? ong>");<? ipt></p>
<!-- In accordan? o the Blogger terms ? ervice, please leave thi? tton somewhere on your blogg? ? ? age. Thanks! -->
<p id="bloggerBug"><a href=? p://www.blogger.com"><img width="88" height="31" src? tp:/? ? .blo? .com/blo? ? gif"? der="0" alt="This page is powere? Blo? ? n't ? s?" /></a></p>
<p id="blogfeeds">Subscri? o Posts [<a target="_blank" href? tp://snarky.tumo? b-ab? .com/atom.xm? ype=? lication/atom+xml">Atom</a>]</p>
</div>
<sc? ? ? ext/javascript" src=? p://www.blogger.com/? ? 1/common/js/38242495? itai? "></script>
? ipt type="text/j? ? t">BLOG_? Csi(? _blogspot');</sc? ></body>
</html>