Karma, Purgatory, Bureaucracy


Karma, Purgatory, Bureaucracy

“Just another number”.

Be there “no Karma about it” but THE RECENTLY DECEASED will hit that old after-life office with the thud of paperwork.

(Reminds me of the ole’ Social Security office)

Franz Kafka couldn’t have said it better, whether just the victim is mad or “THE SYSTEM”, itself is even crazier. . . . . and remember, that guy in the “Metamorphosis” story did turn into an insect. OR EVEN A BEETLE.

A lot of people “kill time” in the waiting room, bearing the incarnation they took when “struck-down, mortally”. The visual cue—its own kind of karma whether you’re a shrunken-head on the leash of a witch-doctor as it didn’t end well for the big game hunter.

Don’t go smoking in bed, either—or take poison which will turn you into an icky, translucent green like the secretary behind the sliding window.

Perky, pert, and sarcastic—if not despondent in this perfect illustrated example of the mind/body and material/spiritual splits that cleaves the world into an alienated hell.

Ole’ Beetlejuice pops his head in and takes a seat. I’d imagine him probably sticking his hand down the front of his pants like Al Bundy in “Married with Children”. Half-resourceful or maybe just fool-hardy “no one will notice” as he lopes across the parking lot to grab a cooler of beer.

You’d imagine he’d only lose his place in line.

Solely the balance between evidence and lyricism can allow us to achieve simultaneous emotion and lucidity. . . . . but there he hollers at his loss.

In this last week, we’ve lost Chris Cornell—the singer from Soundgarden—and Roger Ailles—the chairman of Fox News. Only out of an episode of “Adult Swim” could these figures every encounter each other.

The moody rock singer leans up on the chair, hang-dog with his hands stretched over his knee while the right-wing chieftain tries to bluster and glad-hand his way out of federal commitment for dinner reservations “elsewhere”.

There’s only a few things certain in this life. . . . . death, taxes, and irate constituents.

End up here and you have to meet your quota of lingering, ghostly “overtime” back on earth. Spook the hell out of the living for a spike of adrenaline and ecto-residue that kicks into your early retirement, building enough parasitically-fueled power to ascend up the spiritual pyramid to eternal bliss.

Sounds like Medicare and Social Security.

You’ll pay though. . . . . they’ll take everything “but the squeal”.

Death. Taxes. Hollywood sequels. . . . .

Welcome to America. You could die laughing. . . . .


“No dream”, kid. This was your life! Remember to Linger in the graveyard and pick the daisies before summoning for pizza on the Ouija board.

Karma, Purgatory, Bureaucracy

Handbook for the Recently-Pranked

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Someone sent me a link on Facebook, one of those “memes” that pastes images over text as I wish to imitate the idea in the truest form of homage by remixing it right here.

So it’s the “Handbook for the Recently Deceased” chucked in the direction of the newly-dead and spiritually-orphaned that proved to be an eerie plot-point in the original “Beetlejuice” as newly-weds Barbara and Adam Maitland found themselves marooned in the hereafter. Funny, it “read like stereo instructions” or even the legalese of the dusty tax code as tomes fall on the table and frighten you with their finality.

If you moved a passed-out drunk into an attic and locked the door– leaving out nothing but “The Handbook” would it dawn on him, paging through the book– that maybe he was deceased? What a dirty trick. . . . .

. . . . . as there was once a story out of The Arabian Knights about a peasant in the city who was drugged and woke-up in the sultan’s palace of pleasures, led to believe he was really royalty all along. Then drugged again, and waking up in his usual humble lodgings. He began handing out orders and raving when no one would listen to him.

Of course there’s the story when a sultan played a prank and had his victim drugged, waking up in a pit of wild animals that had their teeth and claws removed. Rousing into consciousness and scurrying around with the growls of beasts following him.

What else do you do for an encore? Maybe we’re all victims of a big cosmic joke when you think about it– a theater of the absurd as then again, Beetlejuice is not one to go off quoting Shakespeare or anything. To be or not to be, is the question.

We answer it with this website.

The rules of the universe wouldn’t have it any other way.

Happy haunting!

uncle_v   wpid-satori.jpg

Handbook for the Recently-Pranked