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Gerald’s Ramp

The Jath Blog

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“Ruin value (German: Ruinenwert) is the concept that a building be designed such that if it eventually collapsed, it would leave behind aesthetically pleasing ruins that would last far longer without any maintenance at all.” -Pretty Much Whoever, Wikipedia.org/wiki/ruin_value

And so Gerald declared “my parking ramp must have striking, majestic pillars at every possible location, and they must be manufactured of, and treated with… stuff that doesn’t… y’know… go away,”

And Gerald leveraged the wealth of his unknown Grandfather and made this possible.

And regardless of what Gerald did afterward, the Earth kept racing around and around the Sun, cooking and freezing the parking ramp hundreds of times, until the very last consequences of Geralds reproductive prowess were either wiped, or diluted to obscurity. The ramp stood even as the cars and trucks that used it fell away to the Rise of Sentient and Enthusiastic Horses, and ultimately to a…

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Gerald’s Ramp

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“Ruin value (German: Ruinenwert) is the concept that a building be designed such that if it eventually collapsed, it would leave behind aesthetically pleasing ruins that would last far longer without any maintenance at all.” -Pretty Much Whoever, Wikipedia.org/wiki/ruin_value

And so Gerald declared “my parking ramp must have striking, majestic pillars at every possible location, and they must be manufactured of, and treated with… stuff that doesn’t… y’know… go away,”

And Gerald leveraged the wealth of his unknown Grandfather and made this possible.

And regardless of what Gerald did afterward, the Earth kept racing around and around the Sun, cooking and freezing the parking ramp hundreds of times, until the very last consequences of Geralds reproductive prowess were either wiped, or diluted to obscurity. The ramp stood even as the cars and trucks that used it fell away to the Rise of Sentient and Enthusiastic Horses, and ultimately to a point when the thought of parking anything merely caused a fireside chuckle on a beach, with tanned Mega-Apes doing shitloads of complex Math, but not being dicks about it.

And true to Gerald’s lasting vision, the basic structure of the ramp decayed only beautifully, as if it were meant to become the face of an ancient Queen. What Gerald hadn’t supposed was that incredibly advanced peoples would, one thousand years afterward, agree with and respect his goals in the ramp. But these people DID see, and many generations sat near the ramp or stood by it or drove things on it or ate sandwiches on top of it.

Only the corners were changed by time. The elements made them round and glossy, and they came to split the sunlight apart in themselves uniquely, like trees that fought their own bark with crayons and markers. Gerald had nothing to do with this, but had he not been so focused and persistent in building his ramp, this would not have happened.

And beyond even the initial handful of millennia, there stood the pillars.

Like the spawn of drinkers, who floated in the drink for so long and spawned more of themselves in the drink who did the same and on and on… one day even those severely advanced descendants of Gerald and his kind… found themselves sitting at the bottom of a pool, drinking the rest of it away with shrinking social circles and an uneasy sense of a Great Doom.

And one day the last real human laughed, looked at the pillars, and went back to the rocks and the dirt, taking whatever else of humankind away to be dust and wind…but the value of that Ruin was abolute, and it simply went on battling with the changing face of our Sun, until at long last the Sun heaved, and made the yawn of a star…which simply and suddenly consumed first Mercury, then Venus.

But after such long hard practice, and having been born with such conviction, the pillars of Gerald’s Ramp simply leapt into the chaos of the fat red giant Sun when it came finally to swallow the oceans and burn away the meat of the Earth, leaving the creamated skeleton of our world to whip around its crimson waist and decay. Gerald’s ramp knew the Sun and had always been handling it, it had become a gleaming alloy flower with more might than a dying Sun.

When the Sun finally tore off its cloak, and compressed all that it had gathered into one little shining Earth-sized summary of all that has been, Gerald’s Ramp parked itself right there on the face of the dwarf, and felt downright massive.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruin_value

http://wiki.answers.com/Q/How_will_the_sun_die

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Todd with Flowers

A carrot, half-eaten, on a pile of half-written books
Empty mug
Clam chowder, cold
Dry skin

The scratching.

But the itch just moves around,

The window rattles, like Autumn were coming back

But no, it is not coming back
Not soon.

No!

Soon, the sunshine
Faerie voices all over the gardens
and out on a hill somewhere, after a mile of flowers
a Faerie Queen singing,
pleading with the flowers,
pleading ‘won’t you please stay here?’
pleading ‘please sit by me and watch the flowers!’
with a loneliness like November

Yet that little hill stays just as far away
after many hours kicking down a path through the flowers
and the voice is never louder never quieter,
and always with just a ring of truth to it

The sun goes,
This is natural,
The flowers go to the dust,
This is natural,

The sky darkens,
The voice is wiped from the winds by a bitter cold,
And there is no hill,
only the rash,
and the quiet little sobbing voice
of the poor Todd who must scratch it

And he must wait again,
Wait all winter.Image

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Sanchez on the Wind.

               Wide open, in the field, Sanchez tried to run. He slipped often, made unusual sounds, and didn’t look as if he should even be trying, but he kept on, and the distance between he and Todd grew. Todd couldn’t hope to move quickly, not with his swollen head laying out in front of him on the wheelbarrow as it did. But Todd smirked, as if Sanchez had already lost.

               It was a four foot abomination of a smirk, but still a smirk. It made slurping sounds.

               Sanchez felt his shoulders clench, he anticipated some horrible impact. Nothing happened.

               The wind blew across the field and shook the grass and made fleeting suggestions about how it looked. But the wind did not care for either of the men. It merely blew on as it would have.

               The distance was trivial, and Sanchez felt the weight of a doubt when he looked back and he could still make out that slurping four foot mouth. But his resolve was impossible to defuse. He had no purpose at all in the world, for the moment, but to escape the horrors of Todd’s factory. So he did. As awkwardly as necessary, and with zero stealth.

               After five months on his own, out in the Wild, he returned. For it was not enough that he alone escaped. He must hunt down every last piece of her. Tear her eyes from whoever had gotten them. Tear her frame from beneath some foreign head. Most of all, tear her heart from what malignant chest cavity it had been forced to, when she’d been scrapped for parts.

               So long after Todd had stopped looking, he came near, and he idled in every dead zone carefully taking in the routines and feeling out the weaknesses.

               He’d be damned if an abomination like Todd would stand between him and that lovely Springtime he felt so strongly he must reassemble.

               And Sanchez came like winds from the North, to penetrate Todd’s Iron walls, and take Springtime away for himself.

 

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Mine Friend

 

 

A Note for Friends

 

 

Mine friend come of the mountains one summer when the trees were wet
from rain and the road into the hills was a series of puddles and ruts.

*
He came down in a wagon and it was a great labor for him to reach the
town square, and always we could see him coming and sometimes stopping
to free his wagon from mud.

Once it was very much tilted and we all
worried, but we were all relieved to see it righted.

 

Mine friend’s horse was golden colored and later in the afternoon there
was sunshine and the horse was brilliant to us, where we watched it
laboring far up on the road.

*

We’ve since gone back to our duties, but always some will stop at the town
square and look long up the road to the hill and see how he has gotten
closer. Still the puddles have not dried out and the ruts are so
deep and it is a great labor for him to always be coming along, up
there on the road out of the hills.

*

Mine friend come of the mountains with a wagon stacked tall with
mountain corn, which he wants sold so he can make a life for his family
back in the hills. Mine friend come of the mountains ever in labor,
struggling and sad, breaking his horse and determined and futile with
his corn, weeping on the long road before our eyes. Out of our reach.

Mine friend closed his eyes and sat once too, by the long road up into the
hills. Maybe he thought about turning around to at least feed the corn
back before it had spoiled, but it would never have worked he knew.
Mine friend who knew the road to be so long and only having one
lifetime to make it either home or back into the town.

So,
what a choice for mine friend to weigh…

But he tries, he tries.

To bring corn, to make a life for his family.

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