Last night was the zany, "McCheeb Liberation Front" storytelling extravaganza. here's the invitation...
This Wednesday, March fourth, give or take, ten pm to sunrise am,
eastern, come join us in TH154, formerly A2, for an evening of
luxuriating in the bubble bath of imagination. We will weave our way
into past, present, and future realms of existence as we spin
Rumpelstiltskin yarns of golden threads, a la the ancient practice of
storytelling. For those of you lyrically inclined, we are fully open
to free-style poetry jamnation. Try this one on for size: a long,
long time ago, this wednesday, you stumble outside the confines of
your hovel, and find yourself lost in a murky wilderness populated
with mysterious forest creatures and craatures. One of these
creatures may or may not be a friendly talking snake, who answers
tentatively to McCheeb. He tells you the only way to save the world
is to dive down into the timeless well, into the timeless well, into
the timeless well of, hmmmm...into the timeless wells of imagination.
No, he may also be the devil. Do you listen to him?
Food, friends, intoxicants, love provided. Feel free to bring more.
Batteries NOT included.
Seriously, bring strangers.
Harrison, Jason & ‽
So, after cutting melon and pineapple, nibbling on cappuccino crackers and guacamole, I meditated a little and thought of this poem... tehehe
Have you ever seen Josh Harmon walk?
He reminds me of Pee Wee Herman.
Which makes me think that he is a cartoon.
Somehow, I can't imagine him writing poetry in cabin.
Weird night. Long night. I slept in until my first class and missed it. I did hear some beautiful stories though.