I’m bored.

Bored?

Yes, bored.

Why are you bored?

Because there’s absolutely nothing to do.

Surely there must be something…

Nothing.

You could read something…

I’ve read everything.

Everything?

Yes, everything.

You can’t have read every book ever published…

I have.

You have?

Yes.

That’s amazing. That’s, like, billions of books…

I did it last summer. When I was bored.

How could you…

I’m a fast reader.

But every…

Yes. Every.

Ummm… How about movies? Do you want to go see…

Seen ‘em.

All of them?

All of them. Some good ones in there.

TV?

Every show.

You could go outside…

It’s raining.

The internet?

Seen it all. Lots of porn and cats.

Huh.

Yeah.

I’m all out of questions.

And I’m bored.

But I’ve been talking to you…

And now you’re done.

You’re right.

And you’re boring.

Every so often, a slice of my pop culture childhood submerged deep in my subconscious decides to bob to the surface, and drive me mad.

Like an itch in desperate need of a scratch, the latest snippet was the refrain to a Disney cartoon called THE COYOTE’S LAMENT. Well, it wasn’t exactly a cartoon - it was actually linking material used to string together a batch of Pluto cartoons for the early 1960’s WONDERFUL WORLD OF DISNEY. The newly -produced linking material featured a multi-generational trio of coyotes - a grandfather, father, and small son - who are reflecting back on those cartoons in the context of the coyote’s disappearance in the West, as man moved in and brought civilization. Our trio is serenaded by a quartet of coyotes - voiced by the Sons of the Pioneers - with the following tune:

“Yip yip yip yowl
yip yip yip yay
We howl all night and we prowl all day…
Yip yip yip yowl
yip yip yip yee
You made out lives plain misery…”

The problem is that this special has never been released on DVD. Or VHS. I used to watch it constantly on my family’s RCA videodisc player. Yes, the doomed system that was a glorified record player.

So, what happens when you’ve got an itch to scratch? You drag the 25-year-old player out of the attic, along with the disc, and you transfer the special to DVD.

That’s what you do.

Oh, and then you make an mp3 of the song.

Yeah. That’s what you do.

HERE’S THE MP3 of the linking bits, slightly edited to condense it all down a bit. Hopefully it scratches an itch for you, too.

“I swear to you, I didn’t even know he was going to show up. I mean, how could I? He’s been a drunken recluse for, what, the last 15 years?

“But he did show up, didn’t he? And you let him walk right by you. Right. By. You. And not only did you let him walk right by you, you allowed him to speak with Byllcoraak.”

“But I didn’t know…”

“YOU. WILL. BE. SILENT! I have spent millennia on the bottom, and I will not allow incompetent fools like you to upset everything I’ve worked towards. Do you know what you get tired of, when you’re on the bottom?”

“N-no, I don…”

“i. said. to. be. silent. When you’re on the bottom, my friend. you get awfully tired of looking up. You want nothing more - no, you crave nothing more - than to have someone of your own to look down on. Someone to ever so gently grind under your heel. You, my friend, were the answer to my dream. And now, I’m going to have to get a new you. Do you realize how much of a drain on my precious time it is to not only kill you, but then have to find a replacement? Do you know how inconvenient that is?”

“Please, sir! I-I’ve got kids… a family… I won’t fail you again…”

“No, I don’t think you will…”

“Have a heart!”

“An excellent suggestion…”

It is impossible to be pointless.

Discuss.

My new band name.

Remind me to get a band.

“His name’s Byllcoraak. He runs a pub just up the road…”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Of course I am…”

“But he’s a demon…”

“That’s not always a bad thing, you know… In fact, he’s gotten me out of many a tight spot in the past…”

“When was the last time you talked to him?”

“Oh, years ago… Not since… Yeah, well, years ago…”

“Since what?”

“We had a bit of a falling out…”

“A falling out? Over what?”

“Oh, this… that… There was a misunderstanding, words were said, mistakes were made…”

“Mistakes?”

“Yeah, well, he kind of got consigned to a hell dimension for a few years…”

“What?!? What makes you think he’d want to see you again after something like that??”

“Because we go way back. I’m sure he understands that it wasn’t on purpose. We’ve been through worse.”

[Thomas and  Cameron enter the tavern, making their way past wary eyes to a private room in the back, within which is seated a large, bearded, jovial looking man in his late 60’s]

“WHO IS IT? Wait! I know that face…”

“Byll!!”

[Thomas rushes up to Byllcoraak, arms stretched wide, to greet his old friend]

“Thomas!!”

[Byllcoraak stands up, as Thomas approaches]

“Byll, we’re here to ask you a favor…”

[With a mighty force, Byllcoraak punches Thomas square in the face, dropping him to the floor]

“Ask away…”

In light of the previous post’s utterly disgraceful use of outrageous pretension and its sleep deprivation-fueled sense of self-importance, I leave you with this ego-deflating portrait of the author…

The world is not a ball

And space is nearly full

Time is nonexistent

With no push to pull

In a square world

Under a heavy sky

There is no time

And then you die.