A Wastoid Speaks, Jaded ‘R us.

movies_tim_burton_career_2   tombstone

Coming to a graveyard near you. . . . . as Beetlejuice sits on a tomb-stone and shrugs his shoulders impishly if asked “what gives him the right”.

It takes a dark kind of soul to hang-out in a graveyard and over come the gothic kids and black metal fans in face-paint and simmering defiance as Beetlejuice welcomes them with open arms. Seem kind of young– and stupid too.

Kids always find it gratifying when adults take an interest in them. Beetlejuice could be 40 or 4000 years old with the allure of beer and cigarettes, dodging respectability. You’d call him a con-artist or bunco man as his creative reach doesn’t extend much further than using a stick to lift-up the skirt of Barbara Maitland. In craft and guile– it’s not much higher than what you’d see down at a flea market for petty thievery and other tall tales.

Putrescent rot and decay. . . . . drawn to mischief like flies to a pile of shit as a scheme is working through his putrid noggin as he’s devilishly fond of contracts.

He will give you knowledge. . . . . for a price.

What is the secret? Maybe the big answer is that there’s not really an answer– and you sell your soul to find out. It’s like “fine print”, or death– or no such thing “as a free lunch”. What will you find out? Maybe that “no matter where you go, THERE YOU ARE” as it couldn’t be any simpler or more grotesque than “free will” and “spiritual limbo”.

So what are you gonna do? Get wise, get older– “settle-down”. The world of carny’s, roadies, and trailer-living turns out to be more dreary than flashy as there we are, all giving an account for ourselves with our hands shrugged-out in the rotten perfume of wasted youth. For those who don’t believe in elder’s wisdom– soon you will become the elders and it all goes full circle as the land of death lays beyond.

What is death like? Maybe a Department of Motor Vehicles as you’re processed like a flat, laminated card until all the life is drained-out. Our miseries duly counted, not worth one whit as part of being an adult is taking responsibility while setting-aside some free time.

Sincerely, a jaded/post-teenaged poet.

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A Wastoid Speaks, Jaded ‘R us.

“Hell-Pit” and “Limbo-Land”. . . . .

Bill & Ted have a pretty good idea of what limbo would look like, spirits “flying, floating, or falling” through all the sheer voids. Could hell be a physical concept? Even so, THE NETHERWORLD is like an optical illusion of perspectives and screwball angles as logical as they are “damned just”. Just key into the imagery from “Dante’s Inferno” as it all strangely makes sense.

Beetlejuice is a creature of hell, yet an escapee “from the infinite-grind” as taking advantage “of the recently deceased” means he keeps one step ahead of taxes as he out-races “the scales of justice”. Inner circles “down the long fall, down” beget stranger properties still, like a kind of insect-mind like the subconscious where nightmares fly out of.

Strange creatures, glowing-furies, and UFO’s dart in and out of a strange realm and overlap into the world we call “commonsense”. Altered states from say, “a Ouija board” summon manifest energies as you talk about mental aberration and the psychedelic experience–dream-worlds of forbidden, altered perception.

Basically, what Beetlejuice feels after a long night of drinking and haunting and carousing, throwing-up in the toilet or otherwise “riding the porcelain bus”. Or smoking joints dipped in embalming-fluid (– for “medicinal purposes”) and otherwise sidling up to you with a chunky, poor-old-me “hard-luck story”. Can you help raise him from the dead, “jump-start him” out of the very pit of hell?

You just got to his name “three times”. . . . . “Beetlejuice SEQUEL”, “Beetlejuice SEQUEL”, “Beetlejuice SEQUEL”, to get the juices flowing and gift him the ability to entertain like the neighbor you would never invite inside your house.

So lift him out of “development hell” and let’s make this sequel happen. Thanks for following my posts, and we leave you with some eerie conceptions of hell and some of the creatures you’d meet off in limbo. The imagination is our only limit as this can happen with computers.

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Back to “the drawing board” and we’ll see you back soon. Happy Samhain!!

“Hell-Pit” and “Limbo-Land”. . . . .