Over the Hump and Into the Bottom

Legitimately purchased at your local pharmacy. Washed down with cheap beer. Breathing so shallow, life seems cheap now. What is really living? Some people live their entire lives in contentment working from nine to five. Coming home to see the little versions of their terrible selves and the significant other, whose only significance is that he or she had become affixed to one's self. How does a collective (American) dream of this? When do we give up our true dreams and settle into a lifetime of mediocrity? I do not wish to be swallowed up by this terrible menace, but if I may ever kill it, I must allow it to engulf me. Every fiber of my being must be utilized to smash and scuttle this massive beast from the inside.

I want to choose something different, something strange and new. Something I wake up and live for. I don't think I'll ever find that here. Maybe HST was right, the American Dream is dead. It dies everyday when individuals settle for less than their highest aspirations

-A. Savage

P.S. - Stay tuned for Vikings, Pt Deux, and a new drug addled tale: The Love Generation - Version 2.0

Vikings of the Concrete Sea Pt. 1

The night was young and so were we. My arrival was marked by bitter cold and wind, easterly winds I believe. The snow whipped across the parking lot creating numerous plumes of white sparkles in the air. I had no particular expectations for the night. Sometimes this place could be wonderful, but sometimes it could render you homeless and in the cold. Either one was fine by me because I didn’t come in search of a good time. I came in search of something of more commanding grandeur. That was the dilemma, however. What was this beast I was in search of? It’s hard to find something if there is no real description of the creature in question. I couldn’t study its habits if I knew not of its name.

It seems appropriate that I should introduce myself, and my associate. I am Alexander Savage, journalist, poet, and witness to the savagery of the American rat race. I am with my associate, Xander. Xander is a peculiar fellow, but his lack of moral fiber works very well with my own disregard. We arrived on campus; I stepped out of my vehicle and lit a cigarette. I studied the features of the various buildings surrounding us.

“My god man, it’s they have their own goddamn country here.” I said, exhaling the smoke from my lungs.

“A whole country, ripe for the rape and pillaging by modern day Vikings.” Xander scoffed, I could see he was admiring the architecture as well.

“Well let’s get to it,” I said, “Rome wasn’t built….or destroyed rather…in a day.”

We opened the trunk and gathered the various supplies for that night. Beer, cheap rum and cigarettes were all in good quantity. As well as some other tidbits I refrained from asking about. We proceeded into the dormitory, our supplies hidden keenly under our coats. We walked passed the residents in a calm fashion. Knowing one false move would reveal us as the enemy.

“These people are fucking vultures.” I whispered to Xander, who acknowledged the suspicion.

We set up camp in the room of a recent ex-patriot. The room was modest, to say the least. It was about the same size as a prison cell and the only striking difference it shared from one was a walk in closet and the absence of a toilet. The floors were made of wood, worn down by the shuffling of thousands of footsteps now lost to memory. The ceiling was at least fifteen feet high, presumably as I was told by the ex-patriot to house as many soldiers of the cause at once.

We began to drink. It seemed only fitting to prepare for the road ahead. We talked, and shared stories. We planned and plotted for the night ahead. What would our attack plan be? It appeared we were at the pinnacle. How could we destroy this monolith from the inside out? About an hour or so into the drinking and preparation, Paine arrived. Paine was a foreign diplomat from the country of Costa Rica. He was in America to visit his sister-in-law, who he had a romantic relationship with. I didn’t bother to inquire further about this fact because his sister-in-law was with him. Along with a beautiful Greek girl, who I assumed was a friend of theirs. Drinks were shared, and Xander insisted that we smoke some weed.

“Paine has some, might as well smoke it.” Xander mentioned to me.

“I’ll pass, I need my wits about me tonight. I’m only dealing with liquid courage at this point.” I replied. “But I will….er step outside with you guys, I need a cigarette anyway.”

We stepped outside the dormitory. Paine revealed a large pipe from inside his jacket. We stood directly in front of the dormitory, in plain view of any passers by. I lit a cigarette and Xander and Paine proceeded to pack and light the bowl of the long pipe. A group of well-dressed students were passing by, they stopped when the saw what was going on.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” Asked one of them. I didn’t like his tone, he was too commanding with it.

“Can’t you see? You fucking moron, this man is a diplomat! Do you know what that means? Don’t fuck with him! The United Nations will be here tomorrow taking you to a international court for harassment, and if you’re really unlucky you’ll end up in Guantanamo Bay for the rest of your life!” I yelled. The group of students was visibly confused.

“Ok man, we were just passing by….I’m….er …sorry?” Said the student in charge of his small following as he began to lead his troops elsewhere.

“Ok man nothing! You got lucky this time!” I yelled as they walked away. I turned to Xander and Paine “That was close, I told you! Vultures! They want no more than to see our carcasses picked clean, thank god we have a member of the international community with us!”

They finished smoking without incidence. We went inside and gathered our supplies. Drinks were mixed in water bottles for the road. We were quite drunk at this point, so anywhere but the prison cell seemed a good place to go. Me, Xander, Paine, the ex-patriot, and the two women began to walk towards our first destination. It was supposed to be a large party. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to venture into the belly of the beast. Surely the party would be full of loyalists, I would have no choice but to smile awkwardly as they spoke of their beliefs. Time had passed, we walked for what seemed like an hour. The stars showed like tiny pin pricks of light through a black veil set over the sky. It was a clear night. The wind was still bitter, but I was wearing a blanket of cheap rum and I didn’t care.

After about a half hour of walking, the cadre was becoming quite cold. The night had sucked us in, and refused to let us out of its icy clutches. I thought we were done for.

“I can’t take much more of this wind.” Xander complained.

“I agree, I can already see us becoming the Donnor party on these freezing streets.” I foreshadowed eerily. The rest of the group was quiet. Presumably lost in their own thoughts and notions of failure. Or maybe their hunger for human flesh was beginning to get the best of them.

“Control yourself man! I can see you licking your lips! We will find refuge soon enough!” I said to the ex-patriot, who didn’t acknowledge my statement.

Then we found it. It glowed like the Holy Grail did to the men in search of it. It looked like the new world, I felt as though I was Columbus, standing on the front of my ship. Ready to proclaim the land for god and country. Just as Columbus did not realize what he had found, neither did we.