The Kreation Korner

Fiction Korner

2012-01-31T23:49:00.000-08:00

"Darling Inedible." He saw it printed medium-sized on the trash can. A happy accident of brand-naming and fastidious categorization, and it was one that made the boy laugh aloud. The strangers all around soon shared in this glee. It was not long before a feather boa was draped ceremoniously atop the unsuspecting receptacle, to christen the new personality by its happenstance title. Darling Inedible. And when the festivities were over, the would-be patrons discarded their rubbish in the gaping maw of their self-appointed and temporary idol.

-Boo Merengue

Poet's Korner

2012-01-28T16:08:00.000-08:00

I compromise my
dignity for a good
cause, an effect
not measured
in spatial terms
grasped like
garden tools
and t-shirts soaked
in sweat or urine

A chain of events
links me in
binds my arms
and legs to the
room I admit
is cozy and dim
the chair is soft and
my skin feels no longer
an itch but
aneasy current

The glowing rectangle
of near golden proportion
builds bridges
in my head
connecting localities
sprucing up
dilapidated storefronts
with youthful vigor
and ambition

I see a place
I want to eat
I wonder about the
appetizers as
I lick my lips
and advance when a
dollop of tapenade
snuffs out the
flame

--Chris Van Peebles

Korner Wisdom

2012-01-26T19:08:00.000-08:00

No. 24: You only live once, but you do so in the infinite depths of the karmic cycle so, I mean, you got time.

Video Korner

2012-01-25T17:24:00.000-08:00

Picture yourself in front of a white automobile. Aside from its telltale Swedish craftsmanship, this automobile appears absolutely ordinary, bereft of any lasting significance. Now imagine that you have opened the back passenger-side door and sought respite in one of this automobile's stylish yet durable polyester-cushioned seats. After taking the necessary safety precautions by properly fastening your seat-belt, take note of your surroundings. Who is that you see in the driver's seat, navigating the currents and slipstreams of traffic whilst simultaneously pontificating on some of life's greatest mysteries? Why, it's Chris Peebles. Oh, hush now, Chris is addressing his erudite passenger. Could it be? Is that Blenko? Are you really seated near the right and left hands of two of the Korner's most beloved exports? Yessir(or ma'am)eebop, it's a Kreationist's dream come true! Now remove yourself from that mental vignette and watch this video that is almost like that experience, with several notable differences:

Kommentary Korner

2012-01-24T21:32:00.000-08:00

The other day I fired up the ol' Twitter feed, and as I scanned the "tweets" from the myriad "news" organizations I "follow," I couldn't help but detect the overwhelming stench of anti-Greek rhetoric. And that's sayin' something given my severely diminished olfactory capacities. It seems every media entity out there is trying to get its €.0154 in about the Greco Debt Crisis. Their so-called fourth estate objectivity does little to mask their true prejudices. And this epidemic of bigotry is not limited to reporters. This morning I met Peter Doe at Dan's Grouse Inn on Route 21 for a red beer and was floored when he said, "sure the Greeks invented democracy and trigonometry but what have they done for the eurozone lately?" Well, Peter, this just means our Hellenic brethren contributed early and often to humanity. We procrastinators here in the states could learn a thing or two rather than just sitting around criticizing. If you ask me, we're pointing out the pit in our neighbor's eye while ignoring the heaping portion of Kalamatas in our own. Ultimately, the only way out of our respective messes is to endeavor towards understanding and empathy on a global scale. And I'll bet if you sat down over a pint of ouzo with a Greek, you'd find that we're not all that different.
--K. Hume O'Henderbaum

The Korner Kares

2012-01-18T22:09:00.000-08:00

The following words to live by were discovered Monday, Jan 18, 2012 at 6:03 pm on a white board in Rm 221 of the business building at Boise State University:

1. Do the exercise
2. Eat good food
3. Tak fitness
4. Don't Smoke and drink
5. Sleep 8 hours per day
6. Be happy
7. Have a good family
8. Don't de angly

Fiction Korner

2012-01-12T11:41:00.000-08:00

"If it makes you feel any better, we're in the same catamaran."
I couldn't make out the face of the figure towering over me. His head seemed miles above, but his chilling, emotionless voice was loud in my ear. I couldn't struggle or move in any way for that matter. I was paralyzed in a nightmare, able only to squint at my fuzzy, poorly lit surroundings as the palpable pressure threatened to cave in my chest.
Oddly enough, I didn't panic. Perhaps this was the kind of learning experience, albeit unconventional, I sought. That was life's highest purpose: learning. There wasn't much else to do anymore anyways. It was the future after all and hunger, poverty, disease, social strife and environmental degradation were the stuff of folklore. Some even questioned if such scourges ever really existed in an era where benevolent synthetic microbes digested all forms of waste and emitted clean air, a nutrient-dense paste and side effect-free super drugs as byproducts.
Self-discovery and refinement through full immersion in the fruits of human culture and ingenuity replaced scraping by to survive. Hence, my desire to pursue yachting as a pastime. But instead I found myself bobbing up and down in a hitherto unknown sea of unrest, fettered in a would-be pleasure craft with my perception hopelessly obscured. Odds are my nervous system had been invaded by a colony of synthetic microbes who had evolved a collective consciousness.
The shadowy lunatic looming above me was probably just a normal guy with his own dreams and flaws. At least we weren't drowning.
--Jawn Steighmeaus

2012-01-04T12:15:00.000-08:00

Recently, our intern Nate executed a search engine inquiry on the world wide web of--or, if you’ll pardon the kolloquialism, “Googled”--the terms “kreation” and “korner.” To our bemusement, a hit came up sharing both our moniker and blog host. A strung-out, paranoid Korner might warn of opportunistic elements afoot attempting to ko-opt our scene for nefarious purposes. But an affable Korner tempered by wisdom and moderation proffers that these other “kreationists” are mere pawns as we are in a larger, all-encompassing kreative kontinuum whose ending has yet to be written. Follow:

Street Korner

2012-01-02T13:53:00.000-08:00

As evidenced by our first post of the New Year, 2012 promises to be an eventful time. Having said that, there are those Kreationists who have always believed that the fight is, like, out there, man, in the streets. And so, we present to the street fightin' man himself, BLENKO, with a quick dispatch from the guttercuts of urbania. Ado:

"I use the term 'feta' here, to reference the use of 'cheese' as an informal term for money. Paradoxically, unless you've got, like, access to a dairy farm or something, you need money to buy cheese. I guess that's the sort of mindfuckery that I want people to find in my work."

"It's up to the reader to figure out what statement I'm making with this one. I'm into democracy like that."

"I'm pretty political. Have you been following the Occupy movement?"

"Do you ever feel as though you're an old, bearded square-eye with a dodo-type flightless bird calling the shots?"

"This one's basically directed at the following photo."

"Poseurs."

Shiny Happy People

2012-01-02T13:31:00.000-08:00

The start of a new year is a time for purification, to rinse off the accumulated grime and start fresh in a shower of new beginnings. Why, just this morning we did this very thing (metaphorically, more or less) at our first annual second-day-of-the-year brunch bash. We clapped ourselves and each other on the back as we reflected upon storms weathered and new summits of kreative expression surmounted almost regularly during our tenure as inhabitants of the blogosphere. The needle was unceremoniously jerked from the long-playing record of our self-congratulation, however, when maljohn took the brainiac notion to stream Netflix on the projector we had pointed at an exterior wall of the kommune. The film was called 2012 and, in addition to being perhaps the most eschatological of John Cusack's oeuvre, proved to be a chilling, action packed prophecy of catastrophic events to occur this year. Suffice it to say, we're all a bit freaked out. Is this blockbuster indeed a bellwether of things to come in 2012? Were the natural disasters and social strife of 2011 a mere prelude to the final days of reckoning for humankind? Or will the culmination of the Mesoamerican Long Count calendar this next December represent the dawn of a new era of universal kamaraderie and klarity? Most of us are hoping for the latter, but in either case the world will need Kreation more than ever in the coming months. All we can do now is stand tall and dutifully advance The Kause.

Best wishes,
The Kreation Korner Staff

Komik Korner

2011-12-22T22:41:00.000-08:00

--A mordant premise by Hadley Daughterson

Poet's Korner

2011-12-16T14:07:00.000-08:00

This past summer, The Korner made a bold foray into the kontroversial practice of automated kreation. You probably remember the banner our beta app generated, and you've probably been waiting with bated breath to view new and exciting kreative output divorced from human influence. We've been waiting too--soon after launching the application, it quickly assumed kontrol of the terminal. It doesn't respond to external stimuli of any kind, even unplugging, but it did inexplicably issue the following statement today to our surprise. It appears to be a poem of some variety, but who's to tell? This infernal software we've begotten seems to be on a higher plain of kreative existence, transcending the limitations of mere living tissue. Are we heading down a slippery slope towards a future where clumsy biological beings are obsolete in the kreative process? Maybe, but for now let's just enjoy this crazy shit our computer churned out:

((
married boyfriend DEPORTATION
criminal-convictions-degree-robbery-attempted
"2012"\**?

CONFUSION STATE 35

Lottery Saturday!!! --local citizens of colored navy ray--
{SUIcide IN cell-initiated}
CALIFORNIA CHRISTENING (deliver food?)

A
M
M
U
N
I
T
I
O
N

ATLANTAHOMEJAGGER!

forgery in the play, El Mirage

~~"We still need a home"~~
&&&&&&&&&&&&
A trailer to get megamillion Timing Association
))

2011-12-11T08:56:00.001-08:00

Flux is the only thing un-fluctuating in our universe. Or at least that's what Rasmus Wright subtly suggests in his new single "No Roots." He captures the essence of life on the road and vividly demonstrates the exhilaration portended by each bend in the highway. Noted rock critic Rapaport Graves cited the tune as a pioneering track in the burgeoning genre of "Psychoamericana" and ranked it #17 in his Graves Raves best of 2011 list. Process:

Kandor Korner

2011-11-29T22:28:00.001-08:00

Today we unveil a new recurring segment that will feature frank, uncensored words straight from the mouths of kreationists. We're positive this format will serve as a doorway into the minds of our kontributors and acquaint our readers with a heightened level of intimacy with the Kreation Kause. For our inaugural post, here's none other than Chris Peebles on the kreative process:

"Kreation is at times spontaneous and effortless, yielding discrete and satisfying results. Other times it's a painful ordeal with obscure and ill-defined output. But in either case, Kreation is a biological mandate, and I do it just about every day."

A word from a sponsor...

2011-11-27T10:29:00.001-08:00

Hello, my name is Bert Bacchus, and I'm the manager here at Union Credit Credit Union. You know, it seems these days the inalienable entitlement of homeownership is no longer in vogue. It's as if the up-and-coming generation would rather set down their roots in tent encampments and void their bowels in public spaces all the while shouting obscenities at honest, hard-working law enforcement personnel. But take it from me, young people, it doesn't have to be this way. To echo the incisive lyricism of one Tomás Petty, you don't have to live like a refugee. That's why for a limited time only (one week to be exact), Union Credit will be literally giving out home loans, no questions asked, to the first 50 twenty-somethings through our doors. Do you have bad credit? No credit? We don't care! Just get in here, and you'll be tirelessly maintaining a quarter-acre lot out in the hinterlands in no time. Act now and we can stem the tide of troublesome paradigm shifts that threaten to dismantle the dreams of our forefathers. Thank you.

Korner Header

2011-11-21T16:58:00.001-08:00

Today we bring you a new and groundbreaking visual gateway to the teeming metropolis of kreativity colloquially known as The Korner. It doesn't actually state the name of this blog, which a less worldly kollective of "artist" may chafe at, but we kreationists believe that, as important as a given statement may be, that which goes unsaid must be paid equal, if not greater attention. Thus, when in the course of a discussion of contemporary "art," critics fail to mention our humble Korner, we take it as an implicit compliment to the ubiquity, the inescapability, of our influence. And just because we now refuse to pay GRECH for her work on said banner, due to a glaring absence of the words "the," "kreation," and "korner," consecutively and in that order, does not mean that we can't appreciate the unspoken gravitas of the work itself. Turkey:

Poet's Korner

2011-11-04T16:03:00.000-07:00

I never said I
wanted to be
here
I never said I
was having
fun

Stop trying to
flatter me

I never claimed I
was good at
this
I never claimed to
be anything of the
kind

Please, don't try to
flatter me

I never indicated I
was trapped in these
dire circumstances
of my own
volition
In no way did I ever
say I felt comfortable
in my own skin
and in no way do I
feel I deserve
to

I cannot beseech you enough,
spare me your attempts at
flattery

And don't flatter yourself
either.

--Chris Peebles

Korner Wisdom

2011-10-27T22:07:00.000-07:00

This latest installment is guaranteed to be a mindfuck on the order of Christoph Noban's Inspection. Exhume:

No. 22: "Never fly over the research triangle."
No. 23: "Kreation can occur in a vacuum."

Komedy Korner

2011-10-23T12:56:00.000-07:00

Q: Why did the animus decide to go sky-diving?
A: He was Jung at heart.

-Boo Merengue

Klosure Korner

2011-10-16T13:52:00.000-07:00

Delicately torn from the headlines, below the fold:

Authorities collar Murdoch
Former KSW chief now in custody, ending five months on the lam
By D'Arcy Stroud, Bench Triweekly Dispatch Intelligencer

Early this morning a joint strike team consisting of Dept. of Agriculture and Securities and Exchange Commission personnel raided an appointment-only exotic imports warehouse on Wholesale Street in the Central Bench's light industrial district. After a small scuffle, Chas Murdoch, who appears to have been masquerading as the owner of Palawan Plunder Trading Co. under the assumed name Chase McMurdo, was taken into custody.
"You fools! You don't know how high up this goes!" the fugitive reportedly said as he was being restrained.
Authorities were alerted to Murdoch's whereabouts when retired junior high school teacher Nancy Ditmars reported a suspicious incident at the import outlet.
"The owner, a really oily guy who made me uneasy to be frank, was trying to push this huge dining room table on me," Ditmars said. "He assured me it was made of teak salvaged from the doors of a ruined Indonesian monastery, but when I noticed the peeling laminate I saw this fraud for who he was and alerted the police."
"We're grateful for Ms. Ditmars' attention to detail and zero tolerance for bogus recycled building materials," said Special Agent in Charge Sib Stanley in a statement to the press. "We're pleased to put this ordeal behind us and see that justice is served."
At The Kreation Korner, a former subsidiary of Murdoch's Kreation Systems Worldwide, news of their former benefactor's capture was met with a mixture of elation and shock, as he had been hiding out only three blocks from the Korner's headquarters.
"Chas was a limited character in the story of our lives, and we're glad to see him go," said kontributor Gabe Gabriel. "This is a big day not just for the brick and mortar Korner but for the Korner in our hearts."
Pundits say the ensuing months following Murdoch's original flight from the law have proved something of a renaissance for The Kreation Korner, marked by a frenetic output of exciting and daring new "kontent."
"People will look back years from now and remember this time as the Kreative Spring," said whistleblower Damien Melange.
With Murdoch out of the picture, many critics have questioned The Kreation Korner's long-term financial viability. These concerns were assuaged, however, when Buenos Dias Productions head Greg Purt announced he would personally foot the bill for any of The Korner's outstanding expenses each month, no questions asked.
"It's the least I can do for Chris Peebles and his associates," Purt said. "After West Downtown swept the Sundance [Dodge] Film Festival, the fruits of Kreationism have literally and figuratively paid Buenos Dias' meal ticket."
Chas Murdoch is slated to be arraigned Tuesday for numerous counts of racketeering in addition to several trumped up charges yet to be determined.

Kwiz Korner

2011-10-10T17:03:00.000-07:00

The gravy train with biscuit wheels that late capitalism purported to be, has broken down. (Whoever had the genius notion to attempt to support a train with biscuits should be publicly flogged [I speak here in metaphor. The 'biscuit wheels' are, as you have no doubt surmised, the complex financial instruments on which we based our economy, and which were destined to crumble under the pressure.]) But I (parenthetically) digress. We must prepare ourselves, sharpen our mind-pungees, and it is with such a goal in mind that we present another round of Kwiz Korner. ¡Vayate!

1. To what do I owe this displeasure?
2. Which dimension is best?
3. You depart from Atlanta, ID, traveling 70 mph. Why?
4. In the morning of your life, what do you eat for breakfast? (Hint: the answer cannot be identifiable with any food group).

Korrelational Wisdom Korner

2011-10-08T00:47:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you eat the bear, and sometimes you decide that you would rather have chicken, because their meat is vastly easier to procure.When your choice of an animal product which is friendly to the dictates of factory-style food production demands enough attention, the land will be taken from the bear, and there will be no more bears to eat.Hence the following: Sometimes you eat the bear, and sometimes, by dint of a globalized economic system which places the desires of an elite few before the needs of the entire planet, there is no bear to be eaten.

Fiction Korner

2011-10-06T09:52:00.000-07:00

I felt a reluctant guest in the clinical confines of the fast moving lift. It was clad in some kind of metallic substance that distorted my face. "Floor four," uttered a falsely soothing electronic voice as the door hissed open. I was put off.

I felt no refuge in the antechamber. The 100-gallon tank of compressed liquid nitrogen teetering on a precarious furniture dolly seemed to stare into my soul with its valve. I knew it could detect my misgivings, trepidation and unease. Beads of perspiration formed an itchy string on my hot forehead. I was an impostor. Thank God nitrogen don't talk.

My trembling, sweating shamble of a person wasn't helped any by the thick, synthetic air as I crept involuntarily down the corridor like a mechanical lemming. For three or so seconds I almost gave in. The lab-coated drones huddled behind the impenetrable transparent barriers I passed seemed content, if a bit jejune. But I had neither time nor luxury for such reverie. My objectives were clear.

It seemed as though a month of torment had elapsed by the time I reached my inhumanely ergonomic workstation. The supernova of florescent rays pressing down on me only accentuated my squirming, clammy destiny as I logged in to my system. "Soon," I kept inaudibly telling myself. "Soon."

I was in the can when the first Molotov cocktails struck the monolithic facade. I returned to find the sealed-off drones placidly staring at the outside world as if the windows were one big home theater setup. The brilliant orange plumes lit up the overcast sky as they burst off the glazed blue glass and straight lines. As hard as I willed it, though, my lips refused to curl upwards into a smile. This un-callused, un-accidental abomination of a structure could take a beating, a beating soon to be forgotten.

Back to business as usual. The small window was lost years ago. I miss the old building.

--Jawn Steighmeaus

Poet's Korner

2011-09-28T17:32:00.001-07:00

My chest hurts
It's probably the aspartame
I'm pulling my own ass along behind me
We're going for something better!
But will I care any more after this whole debacle?
Will I care anymore?
What's the point?
This is a good and fine dental-hygiene freeschool
But worth it?

-Tum Cruz

Komik Korner

2011-09-27T00:19:00.000-07:00

--Harvested from the recycling dumpster behind Kreation Korner HQ

What an extended bizarre trek has transpired!

2011-09-22T22:17:00.000-07:00

What do you get when you put 15 kreationists in the middle of the New Mexico desert with no sense of direction? A twelve day misadventure of bummer proportions, that's what! Here's some context: we embarked September 12 on a pilgrimage to the former site of Cityville, birthplace of Chris Peebles. Our goal: to kommemorate the fourth anniversary of The Kreation Korner. But far be it from our staff to observe the milestone modestly, we were all pretty fouled up before the chartered party-bus even left the HQ's parking lot. Turns out old habits die in a prolonged fashion akin to Rasputin. Despite our good intentions to engage in a larger-than-life celebratory ekscursion to match the momentous occasion, the mission was doomed from Jump Street (that's where we stopped in Winnemucca for a pit stop). Long story short, we must have used our maps as rolling papers somewhere in the Bonneville Salt Flats. Plus, once we finally arrived at our destination, our guide whom GRECH personally vouched for and even claimed owed her a favor was nowhere to be found, having apparently absconded with the money we faxed him. But the harsh reality that we were deep in the heart of a bone-dry, mysterious wasteland didn't dampen our spirits. Not at first. But once our provisions of Doe Farms hardboiled organic eggs ran out and the bus buzz wore off, our morale waned -- the guiding light of the Kreative spirit seemed to have faded. Luckily, maljohn managed to dig up some peyote which kept us occupied for several days. How we staved off hunger for the remainder of the arid tribulation we'll never now, though it might have had something to do with those strange berries we found. Finally, early yesterday we stumbled upon a delirious one-armed hiker who guided us back to civilization, in exchange for our Pentax K1000. We almost didn't accept the offer, but who needs photographic evidence of such incidents when you have eye witnesses? In the end, we learned an important lesson. In our luxurious group quarters here in Boise we take life for granted. All the spoils of modern life could be snatched away in an instant, forcing a reversion to survival mode. At least now we'll be prepared when that day comes. For now, though, we'll work through the lingering sun-stroke, dehydration and gastric woes to get back to the business we set out to celebrate in the first place.

Korner Wisdom

2011-09-06T22:08:00.000-07:00

No. 21: "Always apologize."

Poet's Korner

2011-08-30T21:36:00.000-07:00

Who’s piloting this pleasure ship?
The skeleton of a misguided
lunatic is handcuffed to the console.
The instruments are fused.
The people in the galley know
the score, but they’ve got
Cobb salad to churn out.
Maybe those sharp rocks will
slow us down.

--Chris Peebles

DreamKatcher Korner

2011-08-25T13:12:00.000-07:00

"Capital Punishment," a short story by Boo Merengue

I was on a private jet somewhere in the Bible Belt of America. It was tornado season or something. We were trying to deliver Indian food to an unspecified locale. Oh, and my Operations Director was flying the plane. So I'm attempting to assemble meals for the order, on the plane, while great gusts of wind rock the plane back and forth. The landings and take-offs are the scariest part. The orders make no sense, and I'm hit with this overwhelming sense of how much I do not want to be here, risking life and limb for deliverable shulgum (that's mashed turnips and sweet peas to you neophytes out there). But almost as strong as that feeling is the shock that it has taken me this long to realize my dissatisfaction with the whole scenario. That I had gone along with it for so long, because, hey, it's just my job. I do not want to be another pawn in the great struggle for capital control and accumulation, and I will not submit myself to such depths of degradation and stupidity for someone else's idea of convenience.

This story was divined from a dream dreamt by Boo Merengue at approx. 3:00 a.m., 8/25/2011, and as such is the sole property of Boo Merengue. Any attempt to reproduce or publicly display, perform, or distribute or otherwise use this material for any public or commercial purpose is strictly prohibited.

Enkorner

2011-08-19T09:13:00.000-07:00

As you know, we're always on the prowl for promising new kreationists. As fate would have it, we stumbled across one such individual at the Lobster & Theremin English Pub at open mic night last Tuesday. His name is Rasmus Wright, and mark our words, the music industry better watch its back. The sounds he generates defy description and even the konventional sensory inputs associated with music--maljohn swore he could taste one of the songs for a few bars. Turns out Ras lives just a few blocks from the HQ. How this flickering lamp of kreative revelation was hidden under a basket for so long we'll never know. But now he's out, and he's an inspiration to us all. He's a true kreator in the DIY spirit, never having stepped foot in a traditional recording studio. "I don't buy into that whole major label, mass-production model," Wright told us after his set. "I just use my Mac." What a neat guy. Anyways, here's his latest track, "Hotels Downtown." Discern:

Satire Korner

2011-08-17T11:03:00.001-07:00

Street Korner

2011-08-12T09:43:00.000-07:00

Today, on this the only blog to adequately encapsulate the wonders of Kreation (kreationkapers.com is written by a bunch of ninnies), we present to you a veritable grab-bag of ocular confectionaries. BLENKO reports back from his travels along the streets of Anywhere, USA, having documented his one-man assault on all things urban and bland. Here are a few choice selections sure to send you running to the eye dentist with vision cavities. The artist himself provides informative commentary:

"This one's a commentary on violence."

"My take on substance abuse."

"How I operate in the streets. I'm not necessarily trying for it, but hey, if my shit's the best, then what else can I say?"

"The streets are the only place where I truly feel the freedom to flounce."

"This was my father."

Korner Wisdom

2011-08-12T06:27:00.000-07:00

No. 20: "You may be an outlier, but you're still a statistic."

Komedy Korner

2011-08-06T12:18:00.000-07:00

Lesson #1:

What is komedy? Is it the unexpected? By definition, yes it is. When one is told a komedic anecdote, they expect to laugh. Not laughing is the unexpected reaction and is thus the mark of true komedy. You didn't laugh did you? Good.

--Svetlana Mendoza

Kwiz Korner

2011-07-29T11:40:00.000-07:00

There’s a very real chance that in one week’s time this country’s reckless fiduciary abandon will plunge us all into unprecedented depths of disquietude. As the agendas advanced by fascists determine a universal fate, injuries both physical and emotional will be visited upon all but the most robust and stoic of us. In following with a long-held unwavering tenet of Kreationism, only weapons of the mind can be employed to reach a favorable outcome. But the flabby and atrophied psyche will not be able to fight off the slings and arrows. To prepare for the inevitable, The Kreation Korner is endeavoring to promulgate keen kraniums and honed hippocampi the only way we know how: a good old-fashioned trivia kwiz. It’s sure to tone your gray matter into a burly ball of neural tissue ready to rise above the khaos of the ensuing weeks and months. May the edged tool of Kreative genius sever the Achilles tendon of elitist incompetence. Answer thoughtfully:

1)What is the France of capital?
2)Name Sterling Hayden’s seven roles in the film Dr. Strangelove.
3)Which is more buoyant: infinity or infinity plus one?
4)Why do woolly mammoths think about ice?
5)Identify the lasagna ingredient with no vowels that can be used as an anesthetic.

Please submit responses the way you'd submit anything to The Korner. Answers will be rated on a one-to-seven scale of correctness. He, she or otherwise with the highest score wins a dream date with a Kontributor of their choice, bar GRECH, Howard Fork, Chris Peebles, Huey Dood or Snappy Tom.

Poet's Korner

2011-07-25T20:21:00.000-07:00

"I dedicate this one to Speaker Boner. Eat shit you crybaby." --Chris Peebles

My fort at the
beach is made
of driftwood.
It's dry.
Dry as the bones
of my
dreams.
The iconoclastic
acetylene torch
fashions new forms
from the irreverent
alloy.
The sparks fall like
incendiary rain onto
my wretched rampart.
The high tide of
more masterful
builders will soon
sweep the ashes
out to
sea,
salty and
inhospitable.

PKKP (Post-KreationKon Post)

2011-07-18T09:20:00.001-07:00

Well, after eight grueling days KreationKon has finally drawn to a close. We'd like to say it went off without a hitch but there were in reality several. Our foremost misstep was giving Gabe Gabriel II The Bookmaker karte blanche over organizing the event. Although his aspirations of pursuing professional konvention planning are admirable, the fact is ten years isn't near enough life experience to grasp the nuances of such a specific and herculean task. He made the usual amateurish mistakes, such as reserving the cramped 1,040 sf Selway Room instead of the spacious 4,689 sf Bonneville Room. He also rented four fog machines too many, making flash photography and seeing in general difficult if not impossible in most cases. Furthermore, the younger Gabriel hired Reputable Commercial Printing and Scuba Gear Repair--an outfit blacklisted by The Korner, mind you--to produce kommemorative merchandise for KreationKon. Turns out an ambitious screen printer in their ranks took the liberty of "spell-checking" a trademark affectation of ours, which has proved a subject of konfusion and ire amongst readers and kontributors alike. In spite of these mishaps, though, the event was a success. We recorded record attendance, giving away all but three koozies. Those who were lucky enough to navigate the haze were able to interact with the Kreation Krew in a kandid and meaningful way. As for Gabe II, we're ultimately grateful he was able to learn some important lessons and tricks of the trade through this trial by fire. We'd like to extend our gratitude to the good people at Tsar Mart who katered the event as well as the Red Lion staff. They were always on hand with a friendly demeanor and a can of D-Vour. We're still not quite sure why we aren't welcome back next year, however.

Chris Peebles reluctantly models a T-Shirt from the konvention. We had no choice but to sell these and other erroneously worded memorabilia for half-price.

Heads Up!

2011-07-02T18:37:00.000-07:00

Hello, all. Today we present to you the long-awaited replacement to the shit-stirring piece of visual controversy that was Chas Murdoch's brand-centric header. Frankly, for all the outcry the banner received, it took a surprisingly long time for anyone to pony up and kreate a replacement. And in fact, the new banner didn't even come from any single Kreationist, per se. Truthfully, the graphic you now see riding atop this galloping thoroughbred of a blog was created with a beta application that we at the Korner have been working on, which approximates the unbridled spontaneity of kreation through a calculated sequence of pre-ordained operations, each step in the process leading inexorably to the next. Here's how we propose the app ended up with that as its final product: first, it randomly selected an image from which to derive a concept; then, it stretched that image across the required header size, thereby rendering said image unintelligible; next, it chose a semi-coherent pop-culture reference and tweaked it so as to appear at once aware and apathetic. Were it not for the Kreation Korner label stamped on there, we'd have a few things to say about this thing, but since it does as good a job as any other image of making clear just what blog you're now visiting, we're happy with it.

Konvention Korner

2011-06-30T14:32:00.000-07:00

Where have we been the past few weeks you might be asking? Well, if the title of this post is any indication we've been burning the midnight fossil fuel planning the first ever KreationKon! It's a konvention to be held the second week of July. It will feature panels, booths and other things kreative. At least 48 percent of your favorite kontributors will be in attendance to sign autographs and engage in impromptu kreative acts. If you're anywhere near the Red Lion Hotel Ballroom in West Downtown Boise when this all goes down, don't hesitate to pop in and pay the $24 admittance fee. The first 50 through the door will receive custom Lee Watt beer koozies. Don't miss this once in a year opportunity! It will be anything but konventional. Now that we've whetted your appetite, here's an old Chris Peebles number from his b-sides and rarities compilation to tide you over:

Stale air breaks into hard tack
Deep drafts moisten the
pierced and narrow channels
Goods barge in and dock
points in the lining
Food of the bygone epoch
slips through and out
never to be grasped

Korner Wisdom

2011-06-14T10:46:00.000-07:00

No. 19: "Behind every great man is a swath of destruction."

Fiction Korner

2011-06-08T00:51:00.000-07:00

He has seen himself for the first time. There on that groomed and immaculate putting green, Jani has taken first steps on a journey leading to a polished, baby-blue world. It's a world that feels smooth to the touch, like the flawless finish of a Chrysler LeBaron. This, he thinks, is what dreams are made of. All perception before this moment has been inarticulate lies. How did I get here, he thinks to himself. Slowly he recalls the quart's worth of Budweiser-branded Chelada he had consumed in the past hour or so. Perhaps this is the ambrosia which has opened the doors in the mind that he had never seen before. A mind that is now truly his, where before it had felt like a strange brain wrongly assigned to him at birth. Perhaps, too, it was the joy emanating from the Michael's Furniture Showplace Invitational into which he has stumbled. All these people, beautiful, are welcoming him, beckoning to him, obliging him to join in their celebration of life and well-made but recession-minded furniture. Does it really matter what brought me here, wonders Jani. I only know that I am here and that I am loved.

Boo Merengue

Poet's Korner

2011-05-26T20:46:00.001-07:00

I never thought to
cut a tree until
we invented
the saw.
But now I'm up to
my earlobes in
sticks, twigs
and logs.
I can't move in any
meaningful way
and eating is
a challenge.
I've tried sucking
sustenance
from the
fibrous
pillow smothering
me of late but
sap doesn't
hit the
spot.
by
Ch
ri
sP
ee
ble
s

Komik Korner

2011-05-19T00:18:00.000-07:00

Here's some light fare:

Served up by Hadley Daughterson

Shit's Hit the Fan Korner

2011-05-13T16:26:00.001-07:00

We do not deny that The Korner is kurrently in khaos. Lines have been drawn in the sand, turning kreator against kreator. By our estimate it's the worst bout of in-fighting and factionalization the Kause has suffered since the Westphalian Skism of 1926. But like all korners, the ever-unfolding story of Kreationism is cyclical. A startling sixth page story published in the Bench Triweekly Dispatch-Intelligencer this morning reports an event of no small magnitude that may very well serve as a harbinger of restored fellowship and prosperity. We pray to whatever god(s) we believe in that this article portends the hastening of our return to liberté, égalité and fraternité. Scan:

Chas Murdoch On The Run!
KSW chief wanted for securities fraud evades authorities
By D'Arcy Stroud, Staff Writer

Early this morning a joint strike team consisting of Dept. of Agriculture and Securities and Exchange Commission personnel raided the Boise Foothills home of local venture capitalist and heir Chas Murdoch only to find the midcentury modern cantilevered residence deserted.
Authorities have spent months building a case against Murdoch for allegedly using his clout to defraud investors and fix soybean prices on various commodities exchanges.
"Murdoch's a menace," said Sib Stanley, special agent in charge of the crackdown. "He represents the worst kind of exploitative sleaziness in our society. It's only a matter of time before we track down and prosecute that scum."
Murdoch is best known locally as the benefactor of The Kreation Korner, a contingent of self-proclaimed "kreationists" who publish a blog of the same name. He is also known internationally as the jet setting CEO of Kreation Systems Worldwide and one-time juror at the now defunct Kannes Film Festival.
"It doesn't surprise me," said Tony Stevenson, local businessman and longtime Kreation Korner reader, of the incident. "Ever since Murdoch started meddling in the kreative process the Korner hasn't been the same. Something seemed off about the guy."
According to Korner kontributor Huey Dood, Murdoch's overbearing management style was often a detriment.
"He was like the domineering stepfather to our rebellious young man--always cramping our style," Dood explained. "Turns out he was a stepfather with a dark side, as many of us have suspected for some time."
The Kreation Korner sees Murdoch's flight from the law as an opportunity, despite the loss of their sole funding source.
"We're excited to return to some back-to-basics Kreationism, without the corporate influence," Dood said. "After what's left of our slush fund dries up, though, we'll have to hook up with a dynamic financier whose heart and assets are unfrozen. We're realists at the end of the day."
A $10,000 reward has been posted for Murdoch's capture, dead or alive.

Solidarity Korner

2011-05-05T22:44:00.000-07:00

Gabe Gabriel here, reporting on an event that may just rip this whole Korner asunder, so that it is no longer a korner but simply two unadjoined walls, disunited from their kommon kreative kause. In the latest development surrounding the Banner Scandal (or "Bandal," if you will), KK kohorts Sprechen Sie Tronik have expressed solidarity with the mission of Nash Stillwater. In a statement released yesterday, and subsequently translated by our resident German impressionist, Herr Frau, SST had this to say:

"We will not support this injustice. The world expect our latest single for now two years, but will hold we without the collaboration of the Chas Murdoch our gift to us. It is your choice, Chas."

aTom, one-half of Sprechen Sie Tronik

Needless to say, SST is speaking of a track entitled "Rhythm Is a One Who Dances." Beyond the title, little is known, but its release promise to be a momentous occasion, the delay of which will have untold consequences. Things certainlly are heating up around here, and that's apart from the fact that Ronald Raygun has filled our rec room with seven working Softubs. Keeping you posted on all things Kreative, this has been Gabe Gabriel. Back to you, blog.

2011-05-01T22:34:00.000-07:00

Greetings, erstwhile komrades. I bring you an urgent plea for sanity. Earlier today while on a delivery run, I saw an emaciated Nash Stillwater staggering deliriously through a vacant lot. Naturally, I pulled over and whisked him off the street. Sure he's a rival. Arguably a sworn enemy. But how could I hang on to my ego in the face of human suffering? The information I obtained before he fainted was that he hadn't eaten in over a week as a form of nonviolent protest. He is in my care now, and I am nursing him back to health with a steady regiment of white omelets. I must say that I am shocked and appalled that the apparent state of things at The Korner would drive a sentient life form to such lengths as to deprive itself of sustenance. I'm even more shocked and more appalled that Stillwater's actions seem to have fallen on deaf ears. How sedated are you people? How can you be so callous and numb to this man's plight? Granted, there will be a day in the foreseeable future when the world we know will come crumbling down around us and conventional notions of morality and decency will be scrapped for the necessity of survival, but until then we need to uphold the welfare of all beings--especially the genuinely kreative ones! I hope in earnest that you all deviate from your current heading of jaded hard-heartedness and embrace Nash as I have. Turns out he and I aren't all that different. Like me, he has an unwavering conviction for what he knows is right and the sand to express his feelings loud and clear for all to hear. I'd say I've even started to like the guy. What a capricious universe we inhabit. Anyways, this isn't a threat. Not for now. Just know that this chicanery in the name of Kreationism is an abomination and mustn't persist. More extreme measures may be necessary if you all don't shape up!

--P. Doe

Poet's Korner

2011-04-29T01:39:00.000-07:00

Don’t try to deputize
me into your cause.
Your principles and
stances are crap.
Plus I disagree whole-
heartedly with your
core tenets.
My core tenets are
respect, good taste,
and common decency.
Sound familiar?
Didn’t think so.

--cHRIS pEEBLES

Kommentary Korner

2011-04-24T22:24:00.000-07:00

Unless you live under a rock (which we don't recommend), you've undoubtedly noticed that The Korner has reached an impasse. With both Peter Doe and Nash Stillwater flying the koop for disparate yet equally gastronomic reasons, we face the inevitability of kreative inviability due to a dearth of kommentary kontent. Are Doe's and Stillwater's departures the fault of the staff as has been suggested? Are we the spineless flakes we're accused of being? Maybe, maybe not. What's clear as un-tinted glass, though, is that we are imperfect beings and all we can do is try our best during the ongoing journey of self-discovery and growth. What's also clear is our unekwivocal kommitment to kreativity. The show must go on! That's why we sent K. Hume O'Henderbaum a cable. He's like the nonbiological great-unkle of all kommentators. Unfortunately, a catastrophic tragedy recently befell the ailing old-timer, but the silver lining is that he's got a lot to say about it. Prepare to have your ass rubbed in the moonshine:

Word to the wise: don't live on a houseboat! But if you must put down your roots on the briny, moor your vessel somewhere other than Fortunate Summit Reservoir. For years now, my hull has been eaten away at by unnaturally high salinity and aggressive diatoms. But the final nail in my floating abode's coffin, however, was driven the other day when I was t-boned by inebriated hooligans in a Bayliner. It took every ounce of my already diminished strength to roll my wheel chair onto the dock before my home was consumed by the man-made lake. Thank the maker I saw that hilarious houseboat insurance commercial two weeks ago! My agent Chad is currently assessing the damage and hopefully stringing the responsible parties up by their toes. In the meantime, he's put me up at the Terracehill Springsuites and Conference Center in downtown Boise. Boy, is this place a dump! The walls are an unimaginative pail yellow. The wall-mounted television is so skinny it must be a fake--I haven't even turned it on. Plus the luggage rack nearly buckled under the weight of my steamer trunk! Such sterile monotony. It reminds me why I try not to spend much time on land. I remember when hotels downtown had character. You could tell the architects and staff members really cared. A weary traveller could choose from the Alta, the Alturas, the Altadena, the Ambassador, the Avalon, the Anaconda, the Albatross, the Albert, the Alder, the Atherton, the Arrowhead or the Xanadu--and those were just the ones on Main Street! Each hostelry was a stately, well-appointed testament to class and craftsmanship--not like the thoughtless, cookie-cutter structures churned out these days. I suppose all I can do now is bide my time in this chic hellhole. But I guess it's better than having my skeleton picked clean by the pikeminnows they stock the reservoir with.

PolemiKorner

2011-04-21T11:10:00.000-07:00

Have you no pride, Kreationists? Have you no SHAME? Last week, when my visionary piece, "Rebrand This!", was published, I expected at least some solidarity on the part of my kompatriots. What did I get instead? Aside from a directive by the KKHQ landlord to curtail my slogan-chanting to daylight hours only, NOTHING. What gives? We cannot let this egregious violation of Kreationist ideology stand, even and especially if it is committed by our benefactor/dicator, Chas Murdoch. So, as of this post, I am beginning a hunger strike that will last for as long as this atrocity is allowed to stand. You'll all see soon enough what an impossibility the Kreationist mission will be without me! I'm going rogue. Follow me or get left behind.

Freedom of Information Korner

2011-04-16T23:10:00.000-07:00

As our organization enters a golden age of open dialogue and transparency rooted in the spirit of true Kreativity, every member of the proverbial food chain must proverbially paddle in the same proverbial direction. To that end, the Korner brings you today an excerpt from the minutes of our most recent staff meeting. Behold how the sausage is made:

The Kreation Korner, Staff Meeting
April 14, 2011 - Huey Dood presiding
Transcribed by Jeanieanné Smith, Administrative Assistant

Huey Dood: We call this meeting to order. First order of business, last meeting's minutes. Has everyone had a chance to look them over?

Jawn Steighmeaus: I move to approve the minutes, but only on the kondition we strike all vowels and replace them with dollar signs.

HD: We have a motion on the table. All those in favor...

Unanimous "ayes," save for GRECH who shoots off a confetti party-popper in affirmation

HD: The ayes have it. I'll have Jeanieanné get started on those edits as soon as we're done here. Next on the agenda is a short presentation from Nash Stillwater about proposed overhauls to our kommunal kwarters. Take it away Nash.

Nash Stillwater: Thanks Huey. As you all know, I've been an outspoken opponent of kopious hallucinogenic substance use in the past. But I'm always on the lookout for transcendent ways to derange our senses sans chemistry. What I'm proposing here is a group sensory deprivation tank approximately 15 by 38 cubits in area. I recently spent the better part of 17 minutes in an underground cave and the utter absence of any and all stimuli allowed the most obscure reaches of my subkonscious to take over with Jupiter-and-Beyond-the-Infinite-like fury. A chamber mimicking my subterranean experience would require us to sacrifice nearly 40 percent of our already limited physical living space but the metaphysical benefits would be almost incalculable. I'm passing around a cost breakdown as we speak which should give a ballpark on soundproof insulation, lead light shielding and the like. I urge you all to seriously konisder this proposal. The implications it has for the Kreative Kause are well worth the $34,852 price tag.

Enthusiastic "oohs" and "ahs" are heard as the literature is passed around

HD: Thanks, Nash. You know, that idea's not half bad. Plus our discretionary fund is burning a hole in the coffee table. Tell you what, I'll get Steve Adore on the blower first thing in the AM and we'll talk retrofits. Jeanieanné, cancel my morning appointments.

...

*For the full 67-page transcription of this meeting, please slide a stamped, self-addressed envelope under the front door of the HQ. Enclose a $5 check payable to The Kreation Korner, Office of the Archivist.*

2011-04-11T21:10:00.000-07:00

Editor's note: Due to issues with our email server, the Korner has attached to today's regularly-scheduled post an item of operational concern. We trust that the inclusion of this will in no way interfere with the impact of Nash's posting.

Rebrand this!, or, The Fleecing of the Korner
A Nash Stillwater Joint
Take heed! The imperialists have occupied the gateway to this humble yet majestic blog. Witness!, the blatant and ignorant commercialization of the Kreationist mission. Gaze with trained eye on the jargonization of an unrivaled tradition of kreation. We must interpret the words of one Chas Murdoch as an act of war, plain and simple. What is at stake here is the future integrity of Kreationism as a whole, and we must FIGHT! "Where learning starts?" Where growth ends! Unless we fight, we stand to lose our livelihoods. So refuse the oppression of The Man, shut it out with force. We will not be stop!

A request to Mr. Murdoch re: the coffee machine
Percy Stankowski
Dear Mr. Chas Murdoch, the coffee machine's on the fritz again. I think it might need to be serviced or something. Every time I put in the carafe and try to start the brewing process, it won't work. But as soon as I pull the carafe out to see what's the matter, the thing starts spitting hot java at me. I've ruined more than my share of vintage cardigans this week, and we'd all really appreciate if this could get looked at in the next couple of days.

Rebranding Korner

2011-04-09T20:24:00.000-07:00

For Immediate Attention

Recipient: Kreation Korner Webspace Log of Events

Sender: Chas Murdoch
CEO & Lt. Viscount, U.S. Region
Kreation Systems Worldwide

Hello all of you kreationists, it's Chas Murdoch once again. Now, I hate to be the nosy one, but in my recent survey I have noticed a conspicuous lack of timeliness with regard to this blog's header art. Don't get me wrong, I love the opportunity that Thanksgiving provides for us to both celebrate and castigate our nation's history, but it's April. So, in the spirit of spring cleaning, I took it upon myself to design a new header. Well, not me personally. I had our brand identity team over at Kreation Systems Worldwide whip up a new logo and catchphrase that would better convey our market potential to prospective investors. Pretty spiffy, huh? I thought so, too. Now that's a design I wouldn't mind wearing around on a t-shirt. In fact, I've already ordered our merchandise department to manufacture 1000 of them, in anticipation of the inevitable and smashing success of this design. But, in the interest of fairness (and because I know they'll proceed with or without an invitation), I call for any and all input from the Kreationists themselves. In the next couple of weeks, I look forward to incorporating the constructive criticism and suggestions of our mature and introspective Kreative staff over at the Korner. So, without further "to god," I unveil my proudest achievement since horizontally-sliced bread. Look at it!

Ask Peter

2011-04-07T11:53:00.000-07:00

Even though Peter Doe has literally moved on to greener pastures, we figure it would be nice to check in via an underutilized feature. Plus, he technically owes us another post before his kontract formally expires at the end of the month. Anyways, it’s been about a month since we laid our iniquities upon him and sent him into the wilderness. Despite the rigors of the neo-agrarian lifestyle, his response is as kaustic as ever. Nice to know the old Doe paddle steamer is still chugging along. Peruse:

Dear Peter,
How’s it hangin’?
Kurious Kontributors in Boise, ID

Dear Kontributors,
Holy shit, what a great question! Getting three words from you folks is a real treat. Sarcasm aside, I must say I don’t miss the Korner. What fanfare did I get on my departure? Just an untitled post with the usual glib, incoherent language. I didn’t even get a “don’t hit your ass on the beaded door covering” as I packed up my desk. You know, it’s actually refreshing to know how truly under-appreciated I was. I don’t need the Korner. I face new challenges daily. My day starts at 3:55 am. I’ve had my coffee and read my paper before sunup. Hell, I wake the rooster up! But it doesn’t end there. I’m responsible for every aspect of my egg business: caring for the animals, harvesting and packing the product, delivery, bookkeeping and updating the ol’ Twitter account daily. I wear a vast assortment of hats. And it’s tough work. 12 hens produce more eggs than you’d think. But if there's one thing I learned in the joint it's how to endure hardship. In spite of 16-hour days of backbreaking labor, I feel more fulfilled than ever. My life has become one of discipline, contemplation and productiveness. I’m living Kreation. You goddamn assholes in Boise are just a bunch of talk.
Regards,
Peterskeeter

Poet's Korner

2011-03-31T21:15:00.000-07:00

Why are they up there?
The warplanes, with their
jarring banshee cry.
Are we at war?
I suppose tumult and discord
are always among us...

But why in the sky, brilliant
and deep, unblemished by
clouds? Why must they
inscribe their contrails?
Baleful white tailings,
deceitful calligraphy from
a chicanerous quill...

They call it “exercises,”
but why flex a
muscle of such
grim contrivance?

--Dilated Peebles

Korner Wisdom

2011-03-24T14:05:00.001-07:00

No. 18: "Everything is strange. We're just accustomed to some of it."

Komedy Korner: Punchline Edition

2011-03-20T21:55:00.000-07:00

In February 2010, The Korner boldly promised you innovation. Innovation in the form of the classic donkey in a top hat bit as channeled by Svetlana Mendoza. And now, over a year later, we are following through on that promise by bringing you the final installation, making Mendoza's joke the longest ever told, as far as we know. To be honest, we here at The Korner would've liked to see the gag continue on into perpetuity as a veritable komedic "Leaves of Grass," but alas, all good things must come to an end--especially in an age where patience is a scarce virtue. Your cries to hear the punchline, your insatiable demands for instant gratification--it was all too loud for us to ignore. “Frankly, I’m not surprised. We live in an ADHD culture,” Mendoza remarked on the momentous occasion. “Personally, I think life’s about the journey. I suppose I’m just built that way.” All things konsidered, we can't deny that this witticism, truncated as it might be, has truly revolutionized the way we see humor. And we honor Svetlana for her truly Dice-Clayean kontribution to the Kreative enterprise. Now laugh you cur:

The old "Donkey in a Top Hat" bit as told by Svetlana Mendoza, Punchline:

“I was afraid the plant would be rendered unprofitable were it to cease operation due to a labor dispute!” the donkey gasped, then died.

An Ubermensch Among Mensch

2011-03-16T10:40:00.000-07:00

Today we bring you a piece written by Nash Stillwater, in homage to the inimitable work of Peter Doe. "Peter Doe," you may say, "but aren't he and Nash Stillwater mortal enemies?" Well, yes, but in an expulsion which will no doubt become a turning point for the Kreationism movement as a whole, it is time for us to appreciate our differences, rather than fall into petty infighting. So, without further adieu, we give you Nash Stillwater's first experimental commentary piece, entitled "This Is Not an Homage." Ingest:

So you lost the fight, big fighter. Journeyman kreationist. 'Journeyman' - a term that generally refers to a fighter without the requisite skills for any lasting achievements. And that's how I saw him. And see him. Hey, I'm pulling no punches here. The guy got me mad more times than I can count. Shitting all over my achievements, both literally and figuratively. You don't even know how many perfectly good typewriters I've had to throw away. So, you ask me, what do I think of Peter Doe's expulsion? I think it's about damn time. Now I can finally get some work done around here. Oh, you want me to say something nice? Is that what you want, Korner? You know, it wasn't just my work station he was violating... GRECH, why don't you check your Red #92 paint can? Or Gabe, how's about you try playing back the tape from last week's Trans-Siberian Arkestra soundpiece performance? What a bunch of chumps. I'm glad the sucker's gone.

Poet's Korner

2011-03-11T10:50:00.000-08:00

Howdy! The Korner is proud to bring you the latest chanson de shrub steppe from Steed Stetson. That's right folks, after pert near two years of beatin' the hot ol' dusty way of the cowboy poetry circuit, Stetson's ready to settle down for a spell. He's been everywhere from Battle Mountain to Mountain Home but indicates he's excited to be back. Adjust your pupils to an appropriate diameter:

The tumbledown schoolhouse was packed
to the recently installed glass panes.
So many faces, so much noise.
Miss Roberta kept the silent aplomb of
a Prussian brakeman.
I wish I could block it all out.

Nature or nurture?
Was I wrong to notice and do nothing?
Or is life just a series of lassos to
jump through before you can
become your own cattle baron?
Maybe I just think too damned much.
But that last time I didn’t think enough
I got a red-hot poker to the temple.

The population had boomed since
the discovery of molybdenum in
the nearby hills a generation ago.
For my two bits, Salt Creek was no
place to raise younguns, unless
you don’t mind a broken education
system and broken bottles
in the street.

As for me, I’m thinking of moving on.
Call it cowardice if you like. Maybe
I’m running from problems rather than
solving ‘em, but I’m no student teacher.
My students are the big sage, my
classroom the open prairie.

2011-03-07T13:16:00.000-08:00

In the immortal words of Sir Isaac Hayes, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Never have we been as acutely aware of the truth of this statement than this morning when we received the following email from our fearful leader, Chas Murdoch. It seems a month or so back when we pointed a finger at him there were three more pointed back at us and now we must atone for our iniquity, despite our repentance. Our initial reaction to the kommunique was shock, but as the minutes passed, we came to accept Murdoch’s ruling as tough but fair. Plus, isn’t change of any kind usually for the best? We think so. Anyways, make your own interpretation:

I just don’t get it. I leave the country for one month for the biennial theoretical energy conference circuit and pop into the Maldives for a little R&R and what do I return to? A Korner debased! Look, I’m realistic. I understand the concept of taking the good with the bad, but some actions I cannot abide. Casting aspersions such as implicating me in the death of a man I know not from Adam? I find this, in no uncertain terms, reprehensible! Maybe I know this Walsh fellow, may he rest in peace. I may have hired him to re-panel my rumpus room, but I avoid any familiarity with hired help--that’s the kind of professional virtue with which I’m sure none of you are familiar. Anyways, even in my indignation I see the bigger picture. The fact is, larger cosmic forces are at work here that I would not presume to comprehend. But what is crystal clear is that The Kreation Korner Staff’s recent aberrant impetuousness is merely symptomatic of a profound imbalance with the universe. It is my belief that we can only be kured of this koyaanisqatsi with the expulsion of a kreationist from our midst. A scapegoat as it were. And just to demonstrate I’m serious, I’ve already done the dirty work for you. Your own Peter Doe has agreed to resign his office of Kommentator Laureate so that we may all reap the enduring benefits of a Kreative house in order. He actually offered to go amiably, stating that he plans to live off the grid on a piece of land he owns near Midvale from his militia days and to pursue a life long dream of cultivating and selling chicken eggs. May his industry be an inspiration to us all. And may his sacrifice not be in vain!

Yours in Kreation,

Chas Murdoch

Fiction Korner

2011-02-28T16:19:00.000-08:00

It was raining again. 27th minute in a row. I popped down a side street to feel less visible. I picked up a soggy newscube only to see that the latest smoked chili pepper had been dumped into the municipal drinking water. Tangy. Couldn’t say that for this damn rain though. It makes one wish humanity hadn’t blotted out the sun.
I walked to the end of the block and sought refuge on the covered porch of a craftsman bungalow. Weren’t too many of these left standing. This one was about 132 years old and had been beautifully renovated into a light manufacturing plant. Industrial fasteners to be exact.
I peered through a triple-pane window--it couldn’t have been a month old. I saw the workers diligently operating their laser lathes and cast molds. I envied them and their orange hard hats and protective eyewear. I yearned for such simplicity. The repetitiveness of manual labor seemed meditative and comfortingly straightforward. Plus you had something to show for a day’s work.
What did I have to show? An “honest day’s work” was foreign to me. I dealt in deceit and lies--precious commodities in an age of post-consumerism. But my interior life was one of turbulence and second-guessing. Maybe I shouldn’t have stopped taking my pills. The stooge at the Equanimity Minister’s office all but massaged my throat during my last visit.
The newscube had now degraded into an unreadable lump of pulp in my hands. It struck me as counterintuitive that news media had only become more paper-intensive over the years. This thought slipped away, though, as I noticed the unmistakable magenta glint of a bounty hunter's vest down on the main drag. I had been followed. Time to hit the wet road.
--Jawn Steighmeaus

Komedy Korner

2011-02-23T21:21:00.000-08:00

The old "Donkey in a Top Hat" bit as told by Svetlana Mendoza, Part XIII:

The foreman unholstered his revolver and fired two warning shots into the air, scattering the strikers.
He then sprinted to the donkey’s side and, placing the crumpled top hat back on the mammal’s bruised and bloodied head, attempted to comfort him in his final moments.
“Why did you do it?” asked the foreman, tears welling in his eyes.

To Be Kontinued...

Poet's Korner

2011-02-20T22:28:00.000-08:00

ABSOLUTIST CALLERS by the chris peebles

They said I have no right
to suffer.

I said that’s not fair.

They said I’m tickling the
ivory tower.

I said life’s hard for everyone,
then had security escort
them out.

Double-Whammy Korner

2011-02-14T21:44:00.000-08:00

And where am I these days?
And who's to say--
Who's really to say
That you--
Ain't me?
Now wouldn't that be a good one.

And how now--
How now?
How do we come to know our future
before our time?

And where am I these days?

-Nathan Rhombus

(visual interpretation skillfully (k)rendered by lee watt)

Perspective Korner

2011-02-14T11:13:00.000-08:00

The other day we posted some strong words about our patron Chas Murdoch. Maybe our accusations were founded on some kernel of truth, but who's to tell? The fact is, things can get out of hand when you pack upwards of twelve kreationists into the cramped, poorly ventilated space we call home. What may begin as light-hearted kreative banter can soon spiral out of control. Usually this kind of interaction leads to some truly kutting-edge output, but it seems this time we forgot ourselves and attacked the one man who makes our operation possible. We feel that today is as good a day as any for this form of self reflection. St. Valentine's Day isn't just about massacring your opponents--it's also about embracing that most krucial komponent of the human experience: love. That's right. Love. If we can't love one another, then we're no better than those subversive agents who would seek to sabotage the mission of Kreationism. Cynicism and suspiciousness are easy mindsets to fall into, but they will only make us hollow husks of humans in the end. Thank you all for bearing with us as we wrestle with and ultimately subdue the monsters that dwell within us all.

Konsternation Korner

2011-02-12T10:20:00.000-08:00

There’s been a noticeable lack of kontent these past few weeks and for that we humbly ask your forgiveness. But in our defense, kreating has been the least of worries. The least indeed. We here at The Korner have been embroiled in a krisis whose implications span far beyond the four or so walls of the HQ. Let’s start from the beginning...
Remember a month ago when we suffered the loss of our beloved kustodian Errick Walsh? Do you further recall the potentially nefarious circumstances surrounding his demise? Well, it sure didn’t sit well with us so we did some digging. Our staff hacker-cum-transparency advocate Damien Melange stumbled upon a digitized ledger belonging to none other than our supposedly benevolent financier Chas Murdoch. In this document, we noticed a troubling line indicating that Murdoch paid the late Walsh $250 US for something called “services rendered”. Who knows what this could mean? All we know is that it sounds sinister and that Errick died a week later. This is too coincidental to be an accident if you ask us. Do we think Walsh was paid to do something unsavory and was subsequently offed to keep his mouth shut? Not necessarily. But we believe in something called the burden of proof. We've been more than tolerant of Mr. Murdoch's kut-throat korporate ways in the past, but now we demand a statement regarding his komplicity in this despicable act. Errick Walsh deserves dignity even in death and, more importantly, the dignity of the entire Kreative experiment must be upheld. We await a response.

Fiction Korner

2011-01-24T15:52:00.000-08:00

I was on some kind of eerie plain. Or maybe it was a plane. It didn’t much matter. All I knew was that a well-dressed, kindly woman was offering me peanuts and club soda, a shimmering source of nourishment and comfort in the cold, indifferent expanse of tall grasses. Her soothing alto voice cut through the stillness and the silence. Her fulvous hair was pulled into a tight bun, an ardent and unwavering fist resisting the tyranny of open spaces.
It astonished me how lost I was. It had been only a day earlier that I’d found myself in a tired, windblown town that boasted the world’s largest freight rail classification yard but only one saloon. The town bored me--I failed to find its local color charming, or even acknowledge it. I suppose my predicament a day later was punishment for my carelessness.
I stared intently up at the woman with my one good eye, so as to distinguish which way was up. The monotony of the landscape was playing tricks on me. The sky had assumed the same colorless color as the earth. The woman was wearing a smart navy blue uniform that flattered her figure. The wings pinned to her chest said “Caroline.”
The peanuts were dry roasted but did little to curtail my plight. The club soda couldn’t remove the stain of cocksureness and self-deception from my left ventricle. Caroline meant well. She was perhaps the purest distillation of good intention but she too began to blur and fade into the formless ether. My vibrantly colored reference point had become dull and dimensionless. I spit in vain like an avalanche victim to get my bearings but my thin, impotent saliva hit my face and the ground simultaneously.
“Welcome to Tomorrow,” said the pilot over the intercom. “The local temperature is desolation.”
--Jawn Steighmeaus

Poet's Korner

2011-01-19T20:25:00.000-08:00

Today we bring you a piece from Chris Peebles' Chartreuse Period, which lasted from 2:11 PM till 5:38 PM on February 16, 2004. It's entitled “An Ever-unfolding Game of Tit-For-Tat on Levels Both Benign and Grave.” Down the hatch:

I am not a precision tool.
But that doesn't make me
a blunt instrument.
I'm somewhere in between,
leaning more towards one
or the other depending on
the planet's oscillating
distance from the sun.
All things in life are
oscillation. Why is that so
difficult for you to grasp?

Komedy Korner

2011-01-16T15:11:00.000-08:00

The old "Donkey in a Top Hat" bit as told by Svetlana Mendoza, Part XII:

“We can’t just stand here!” said the donkey, suddenly very passionate. “There are bones to process and fat to melt!”
“It’s out of our hands...” the foreman began, but it was too late. The beast of burden made a beeline for the plant’s entrance, undaunted be the angry throng.
“Hey, a scab! Get him!” yelled one of strikers. His fellows then proceeded to beat the donkey about the torso and long ears.

To Be Kontinued...

New KreationKast!

2011-01-14T13:14:00.000-08:00

Namaste, Kreationists! Today after much anticipation, the latest KreationKast has been released--or "dropped" to use the parlance of our times. It's a real doozy.

Klick this link to listen!

Fiction Korner

2011-01-06T21:20:00.000-08:00

I've always wanted to write the perfect story. To encapsulate the energy of all the weirdness I see in the world. I was talking to my local newscaster (and good friend), Ron Jason, about this one day. We were sipping coffee from a communal bowl at Tsarry Night Diner. He glanced up at me with the glazed eyes of a man resigned to the fact that he was utterly at odds with the world around him.

"I can't help you. You know I can't. I feel like you're asking for help just so you can remind me of my disconnection from the world. I'm a friend, too, you know. I'm not just a pretty face on the television."

"We don't call it television anymore, we just say TV... But no, I don't think you're out of touch. I think you're wonderfully insightful."

In my haste to reassure him, I reached toward Ron's arm, upsetting our two-gallon coffee bowl in the process. Hot java went everywhere, the creeping edges of the puddle forming the shape of a stegosaurus. Ron began to weep.

"Am I going to be like that dinosaur?" He sobbed. "Am I going to be extinct because I'm no longer fit for this world? Is my brain the size of a pea?"

After that, I left. I was trying to write the perfect story, not comfort an overemotional newscaster with two first names.

-Ronald Raygun

Kondolence Korner

2011-01-06T12:03:00.001-08:00

We regret that our first post of the new year is a vehicle for tragic news. Early this morning, our beloved kustodian Errick Walsh was found dead in the HQ’s rear stairwell. It’s too early to pinpoint the exact cause of death, but the koroner suspects it may be related to the broom handle that impaled Walsh’s abdomen when he conceivably fell on it.* Even in his last moments, it would seem Errick was kommitted to the kause, fulfilling his duties lest we kreate in abject squalor. Errick Walsh will not be remembered exclusively as a proficient janitor but also as an enthusiastic man who had a zest for life. Death is mysterious and often scary to think about, but it’s also inevitable, and we wish our Errick the best of luck in exploring the great, postmortem unknown. He will be sorely missed.** A memorial service will be held at the Third Russian Orthodox Church of Boise tomorrow at 11 am.

Errick Walsh

1958-2011

*The circumstances surrounding Walsh’s passing are indeed fishy, and foul play hasn’t been ruled out. Let us know if you hear any details that shed further light on this unfortunate event.
**As crass as it is to bring up business during a time of grieving, the fact is we need a new Kreation Kustodian. Please slide résumés under the HQ’s front door, and, please, be humble--you’ve got big work boots to fill.

Joyous Winter Dayz!

2010-12-31T19:49:00.000-08:00

Well, it's that time of year again for celebrating miraculous births and enjoying a brunch of Mussels Vanderbilt with friends. During these final days of the calendar year, we can forget about the near universal garmonbozia plaguing our world and focus on the positive. Today's kartoon from Hadley Daughterson reminds us of the magic of this season and serves as a beacon of hope for the coming year. Abscond with:

History Korner

2010-12-23T15:01:00.000-08:00

There’s a great deal of history you should know about Kreationism. Inasmuch as that’s concerned, we put our trustworthy documentarian Gabe Gabriel up to the task of plumbing the depths of the latest academic literature on the subject and he generated this short-but-sweet research biography. Truth be known, Murdoch’s put a fire under us to kontribute more to the small-but-influential field of Kreation skolarship. It would appear kontributing to the field of Kreation itself isn’t enough. Just another way Chas likes to push our buttons. Rancor aside, we’d be nowhere without his largesse. Prepare to have your ass rubbed in the moonshine:

T. G. Kreationssen: The Man Behind The Korner
By Gabe Gabriel

Any discussion of Kreationism’s long, colorful and often mysterious history would be remiss without a detailed look at the movement’s founder, Kolonel Thor Gustav Kreationssen. Born in 1785 to a prominent forest products family in Piteå, Sweden, Kreationssen was drawn at an early age to such activities as bookbinding, playing the nyckelharpa and reciting improvised sonnets in the public square. This outlandish behavior quickly raised more than a few eyebrows around the small nordic town, resulting in his father’s decision to send the young Kreationssen to a now defunct military academy for boys on the Baltic island of Gotland (Kinnedy, 345).
Despite harsh conditions, poor sanitation and under-fermented Surströmming, Kreationssen's gumption persevered and quickly won the hearts and minds of his peers and eventually the commandant, a prickly fellow called Mr. Anckarström (Gomez-Thackeray, 214). It is a debate amongst scholars whether this was the first known instance in recorded history of minds being blown en mass. Kreationssen and his brothers in arms soon became restless in their insular confines and departed Gotland in 1806 for mainland Europe (Kinnedy, 353-354).
Although only carrying the rank of Sixth Lieutenant, Kreationssen was the de facto leader of his ragtag battalion and dauntlessly pledged his and the support of his men in the fight against the tyranny of Napoleon Bonaparte. Rather than lethal weapons however, the intrepid young Swede chose bayonets of broad-mindedness to impale ignorance rather than flesh (Thomason, 414). Kreationssen and his kompatriots arrived several days after the decisive French victory at the Battle of Jena, however, and found themselves dismayed and penniless in occupied Prussia.
But this didn’t crush the spirits of the ever forward-looking Kreationssen. It didn’t take long for word to spread amongst the Prussian peasantry and other classes that a strange man of mental-might hitherto unknown was in their midst, demolishing long-held conventions daily. The legend--and the man himself--of Thor Gustav Kreationssen gave hope to those looking for meaning in the wake of devastation (Kinnedy, 378). For the next ten years, Kreationssen and his followers--who quickly became known as Kreationists appropriately enough--walked from one end of Europe to the other, lifting thousands from mental incarceration through spontaneous acts of poetry, sound, street theatre and visual art.
In 1816, Kreationssen’s father passed away and bequeathed his vast timber products fortune to his sole progeny. The former Sixth Lieutenant--now 31 years of age--settled in Paris and quickly became the talk of the salon scene. Theories of why Kreationssen chose Paris very, but a prevailing one is that he wished to take down the beast of what he considered feebleminded intellectual movements by cutting off the head (Thomason, 422). It was during this time that he published the Kreationsim Manifesto, which firmly outlined his goal to blow the mind, body and soul--a core tenant of the Kreation movement to this day. No publisher in Paris would touch this scandalous tract, so the author was forced to publish it back in Piteå on one of the family-owned printing presses (Kinnedy, 412).
After the Manifesto’s release, Kreationssen earned the dubious distinction of Western Europe’s “bad boy,” hobnobbing with the cultural elite--and their wives (Kinnedy, 415)! This Casanovian lifestyle was soon cut short as some great personal tragedy befell Kreationssen. Shunning all forms of interpersonal interaction,--save for weekly visits from friend and konfidant Johawn von Steimaus, chairman of Kreationism's Alsace chapter--he never again kreated in his life and the jury is still out on why. Spekulation suggests it was the death of a secret lover or some great revelation us lesser are not privy to. Perhaps we will never know. Perhaps we are not meant to know. Noted Kreationism skolar Daniel A. Thomason suggests that Kreationssen during this period of vulnerability came under the influence of the Bricklayers, the Order of Strangefolk or some other sinister secret society (427). Evidence of such contact is spotty, but what is universally agreed upon by scholars is that Kreationism's founder was never the same.
Before succumbing to unknown causes in 1842, Thor Gustav Kreationssen lived out the rest of his life as a hermit at an abandoned sawmill near his birthplace. He left his fortune to a distant cousin, who happened to be an ancestor of Chas Murdoch. Though he receded into obscurity and may well have been manipulated by subversive elements, his spirit is carried on by Kreationists the world over who revere him posthumously as a Kolonel in the Kreation Kause (Thomason, 435). Although the mysterious circumstances surrounding the latter years of his life will likely remain as such, what is no mystery is his legacy. A legacy that assumes the form in this day and age as an undaunted commitment to being a beacon of hope, love and true cranial clarity in an otherwise cruel, indifferent world.

Works Cited

Gomez-Thackeray, Denise. “Young Kreationssen: School Daze.” In The Kreationism Reader edited by T. Blunt Halladay et al. (Atlanta, ID: Mountain Metropolis Press, 2009), 207-229.

Kinnedy, Dutch. Kreationism: A History. Boise, ID: C. Murdoch & Sons, 2008.

Thomason, Daniel A. “Kreationism: Guiding Light for Humanity or Krock of Shit?” Kreation Kwarterly 3 (2010): 411-437.

Komedy Korner

2010-12-19T09:52:00.000-08:00

The old "Donkey in a Top Hat" bit as told by Svetlana Mendoza, Part XI:

Any concerns the foreman had of appearing remiss in his duties were dismissed as he and his equine companion arrived back at the rendering plant
It appeared a labor dispute had fomented in their absence and a seething picket line now obstructed the facility’s entrance
The donkey was taken aback, but the foreman had seen this storm a-brewing for several months

To Be Kontinued...

Necessity Is the Mother of Kreation

2010-12-11T19:56:00.000-08:00

The title of today's post is taken straight from the horse's mouth. But I bet this is the first horse you've ever seen throwing the paint of kreation indiscriminately against the canvas of the urban environment! That's right, we're here today to present an exclusive interview with our very own street kreationist, BLENKO. We could give a lengthy introduction to what is surely a breakthrough moment in the chronicling of human artistic expression -- but we think the guy can speak just as well for himself. ¡Mira!

Poet's Korner

2010-12-07T09:53:00.000-08:00

The contents of my
digestive tract ejected
onto the tabletop.
Like a bilious fire hose
of ignoble design.
My innards feel scooped
out and my ribs a bit
tender. I'm only human
after all--but isn't that
just a copout used to
forgo perseverance?
I welcome suffering as
an opportunity for
personal examination
and moral clarity.

--Dr. Peebles

Fiction Korner

2010-12-04T01:55:00.000-08:00

Even in death, Mitt remained calm and collected. Stoic even. It was never his way to panic or to blame people. Were I him I’d’ve blamed my wife, my folks, my teachers--anybody to take the heat. But Mitt, always the wise half of the duo, knew excuses were like pancreases. Pancreases riddled with buck shot and hemorrhaging that precious life-giving liquid known as blood. Blood that spilled onto the artichokes, those spiny green treasures he’d fought so hard to obtain. Obtained in that fertile coastal plain--once a playground, now a sun-drenched tomb.
I tried my best to apply pressure to the wounds, but any effort to stop the bleeding was in vain. For a split second I even considered saying something to effect of, “sorry, Mitt. My efforts to stop your bleeding are in vein.” Mitt didn’t appreciate puns even when he wasn’t about to meet his maker, so I spared him. We just sat there, listening to the rapidly approaching baying of Sylvain’s Rottweilers.
Why had Sylvain double-crossed us? I ran through the last two months in my head, but couldn’t recall insulting his honor at any point. But he’d ambushed us just the same, and as we sat holed-up in that tool shed, I was baffled at how an innocent everyday agri-heist had gone so awry. All Mitt and I wanted was to sate our love of both artichokes and stealing things. Plus pre-harvest ‘chokes fetched a pretty penny on the black market. But it was never about the money. We almost always broke even.
But there we were. In over our heads. In a way, I envied Mitt. He could die doing what he loved. Who knew what type of grisly, undignified end Sylvain and his men had in store for me? My train of thought was suddenly derailed by a loud raspy moan. I was quick to comfort Mitt, cradling his soil-flecked head in my arms.
“I don’t think I have much longer,” he said.
“It’s ok, pal. You’ll be marinating the big artichoke heart in the sky soon,” I replied.
“Hehe. Don’t know about that old friend,” he gasped. “I lived a life of stealin’ and fightin’ and drinkin’. I’ll be lucky to end up in hell!”
“From what I hear, hell’s a big vat of drawn butter.”
Mitt managed a weak smile, eyes glassy. The dogs were closing in. I could hear the shouts of men as well. Mitt was dead. But his demise would not be in vein. I took up his lucky artichoke bat, and poised myself for combat. I'd be joining my partner soon, but not without a fight.
--Jawn Steighmeaus

Header Korner

2010-11-25T18:40:00.000-08:00

Hello, you! On this, the day of ritual turkey massacre in the name of a national fiction, we bring you cutting political commentary in the only form that seems to sell these days -- gritty, high-contrast, faux-stencil, post-pop graphic art! It's true we couldn't get hold of the two most ubiquitous practitioners of the medium, Banksy and Shepard Fairey. Our plea to their publicists to "do us a solid" was roundly rejected. Typical left-wing conspiracy.

Luckily for you, however, "failure" isn't in the Kreationist playbook. ("Earth-shattering poetic prophecies in an abandoned paint factory," on the other hand...) But I digress. You may notice at the top that, against all odds, we have managed to create a statement that is both a visual treat and an incisive political thought-piece of devastating implications. There's even some reading involved! The pun might take a little while to grab you, but be patient. This piece is most rewarding after multiple viewings, kind of like a James Cameron film. Yes, I'm proudly drawing a comparison between our current header, and Titanic.

Prognostication Korner

2010-11-17T12:18:00.000-08:00

Every great Kreationist from Huey Dood on down to Steed Stetson have asked at one point or another, are we alone? Is The Korner the sole bastion of the Kreation Kause in a turbulent, indifferent sea of woe? The answer is no. As much as we'd like to assume the aforementioned insular attitude, the fact is that kind of narrow-mindedness has come back to bite us all in the kollective ass. But this is not to say our small planet is teeming with kreationists. On the kontrary, signs of kreative life are few and far between and it is only through happenstance or the providence of a higher being that these elusive kounterparts are revealed to us. Today, we bring you one such sign. It is an article from a self-described muck-raking online newsletter. Although the author seems to be working under an unusual definition of kreationism, the piece eerily foretells our infamous Vision Kuest '08 nearly three years before it occurred. We're not sure how to interpret this mysterious tract, but we are evermore convinced of the mysteriousness and potency of kreationism and humbly suspect that we are mere pawns in an arcane chess game spanning untold ages of man. Take a look for yourself:

"Kreationism in Kansas" by Stan Cox

Komedy Korner

2010-11-14T08:49:00.000-08:00

The old "Donkey in a Top Hat" bit as told by Svetlana Mendoza, Part X:

The two ran for a few blocks, but then slowed to a brisk walk, so as to stave off upchuck
Had not the foreman been the highest ranking employee at the plant, he would’ve been worried that his tardiness would be grounds for reprimand
But, even so, he was a principled man and hated the precedent he set by taking advantage of his position of authority

To Be Kontinued...

Poet's Korner

2010-11-03T22:48:00.000-07:00

Found poetry, 11/2/2010, 10:53 am, SFSU Humanities Building, 3rd Floor Men's Lavatory

Tap your feet
Be discrete
PENIS
PENIS
PENIS

Fiction Korner

2010-11-02T21:54:00.000-07:00

A friend of a friend's wife once told me all literature is about God, death and sex. Well, this story's an exception to that rule. It's about cookies. But as a writer, I'm not going to beat you over the head with cookies. Cookies will be subtly hinted at rather than explicitly referenced. You will have to mine layer after stratified layer of subtext to find the cookies. Be sure to bring your spelunker hat of unconventional thought--you're going to need it! This isn't your great aunty's cookie story. This is the big leagues! I'm going to show you cookies, not tell you cookies. So there you go. Fair warning. Don't come crying to me if your head explodes. --Jawn Steighmeaus

Komik Korner

2010-10-28T16:45:00.000-07:00

Good tidings Lee brings to you and your kin! That's right, Lee Watt is back -- and how! After a much-needed sabbatical devoted to the exploration of oil slicks as a veritable art medium, the Korner's enigmatic kartoonist is back at it with a series entitled, "Things aren't what they seem, even if they may look like it. Haven't you ever heard the saying, 'Don't judge a book by its cover?'" The first in the "TAWTSEITMLLIHYEHSDJBBC?" series is a heady combo of razor-sharp cultural critique and minima-expressionist illustrations that will leave you drink with somber meditation. Pump up the jam:

Korner Wisdom

2010-10-25T15:04:00.000-07:00

No. 16: "Everything is exactly what it seems."
No. 17: "Cleopatra isn't the only queen of denial. The other is Hatshepsut."

Komedy Korner

2010-10-18T14:49:00.000-07:00

Buenos day to you! Before we unveil the latest installment in Svetlana Mendoza's groundbreaking episodic joke, we present you with a bonus feature: the komedienne's much awaited kontributor bio! Peruse:

Little is known about Svetlana Mendoza. This kharismatic comedienne keeps much of her early life close to the bodice. What we do know is that she is a missile crisis baby--perhaps the only one. Born to a Cuban father and Russian mother, she grew up on the wrong side of Smolensk raised almost exclusively by an ex-KGB nanny who had ice water for blood. Our best guess is that she arrived in the US sometime around 3:47 pm on July 15, 1996--but that’s just a rough estimate. Legend has it that Svetlana--dreaming of better opportunities in America--smuggled herself into the country in a box of streamers belonging to Russia’s Olympic rhythmic gymnastics team. Once stateside, Mendoza began hitchhiking across this great land--after allegedly watching a few of the minor field events. From then on it was a life on the road, relying on the charity of strangers for a meal and a place to sleep. It was during this itinerate phase of Svetlana’s life that she saw her first Sinbad VHS, a revelatory experience that set her on her present career path. “The energy, the passion, the clothing,” Mendoza recalled. “It was then that I knew my calling in life.” Starting with an open mic at Knock 'Em Dead Comedy Club and Crematorium in Gastonia, NC, Svetlana cut her teeth at dive bars, laundromats and street corners from the South Atlantic Seaboard to the Great Basin. Her unorthodox, uncanny, untamed style earned her a reputation as one of the least funny traveling acts. Shows how much the kritics know! When Mendoza isn't causing her fellow kontributors to writhe around on the floor of the HQ in laughter, she is an outspoken activist against the rampant portrayal of Russians in film and television as sociopathic arms dealers. The Kreation Korner is truly lucky to have a kreationist of such kaliber on staff.

The old "Donkey in a Top Hat" bit as told by Svetlana Mendoza, Part IX:

When their food arrived, the donkey in a top hat and the foreman ate pollo con mole faster than either ever had
The foreman even burned his wrist the plate, despite the server’s explicit warning of its hotness
Rather than waiting to deal with the foreman’s debit card, the man and beast just laid cash on the table (including a less-than-generous tip) before hitting the pavement

To Be Kontinued...

Komik Korner

2010-10-14T15:04:00.000-07:00

--Hadley Daughterson

Poet's Korner

2010-10-06T11:27:00.000-07:00

"Complementary Floss"

What gives you the right?

What gives you the right?

I see you over there trying
to hide your face.
You must think I can’t see
you but I can.
And I’m asking you:
what gives you the right??

What gives you the right
to treat me as inferior?
You can’t make me feel
inferior unless I give
you permission.
Eleanor Rigby said that.

You think just because
you’re a dentist you can
prod and poke at my molars?
And incisors?

DDS--those are just letters.
Two the same, one different,
like the chambers of my
amphibian heart--a heart
which you have broken into
countless pieces.

Like a shattered mirror in
the corridor of discontent.

--Chris Peebles

Kommentary Korner

2010-09-30T21:13:00.001-07:00

Where would we be without dissenting voices? If you ask Peter Doe, we’d be observing a government-mandated curfew somewhere in Red China. But such konjecture is kounterproductive. The fact is, we at The Korner don’t know all the answers. We know most of them, but not all. To think we are perfect would be the height of arrogance and would kompromise our kreative kredibility. As the old saying goes, “humility is the mother of invention.” To that end, here’s some konstructive kriticism from our own Nash Stillwater. Konsider:

Not to sound like a suck-up, but our benefactor Chas Murdoch is right to raise an eyebrow at our prodigious use of elicit substances. I know the prevailing stance of TKK is that said substances are necessary, nay required, for the kreative process to occur. Those more radical among us would go as far to fancy themselves as shamans, selflessly losing themselves in the embrace of hallucinogenic oblivion so as to lead their fellow man to higher states of kreative konsciousness. But what nobody seems to consider are the negative effects of our excess. Remember the time a mescaline-addled Stankowski thought Snappy Tom’s derringer was his inhaler? Thank Odin it wasn’t loaded! Or the time GRECH had an acid flashback whilst performing an emergency tracheotomy on maljohn? And let’s not forget the countless gastric algal blooms we’ve all suffered as a result of those fertilizer confections we ingest regularly in the name of Kreation. What I’m getting at here is that we can be just as kreative without the copious use of mind-altering chemicals. I’ve been on the wagon for three weeks now, and I tell you, it’s a trip! The other day I saw a sunset. A real sunset. Not just the paisley hippo undulating in the sky I’ve become so accustomed to seeing. And you know what--I got the same kreative jolt out of it as I would’ve from four short-stacks of phosphate-laced flapjacks. To conclude, I just want to encourage us all to put aside the psilocybin mushroom and take up the shiitake of unaided sensory experience. Our physical health, well-being and--most importantly--our kreativity depend on it.

2010-09-23T15:00:00.000-07:00

Lately, The Korner has been inundated with korrespondences in every imaginable format. Our mailboxes are full--both electronic and snail, our pigeon holes are bottlenecked and the telegraph machine literally blew up. What does everyone want to know (other than what Howard Fork smells like)? They want to see the face of the workaday life of professional Kreationists. For our loyal followers who live in parts afar, we've learned that it's difficult for them to visualize and relate to the kreative life here in Boise's Little Novgorod district. Try as we might to push the limits of written language, one thousand words isn't worth a picture. As such, we bring you today the first in what we hope will be a series of photo essays vividly illustrating the places we live and work in the ongoing effort to deliver our brand of kutting edge Kreationistic kontent. Feast your eyes:

This image is of the now infamous Kreation Korner HQ. Akwired in late 2007, the HQ has served as the nerve center of the Kreationism movement ever since and is a class B office space. Although many of our kreative kapacities of have relocated to the kommune, the HQ retains all administrative functions.

Home sweet home! This handsome structure is the new kommune that has been causing quite the stir amongst our readers as of late. Since settling the property in July, we've been attaining new benchmarks in kreativity daily. Think of it as a barracks for soldiers in the Kreation Kause.

Here's an extra treat. This is Union Credit, the credit union where The Korner does virtually all of its banking. UC's responsive, down-to-earth staff belies the mysteriousness of the building's outlandish design. It is the only structure of its kind on General Westmoreland Blvd and one of very few planet-wide.

Komedy Korner

2010-09-19T14:13:00.000-07:00

The old "Donkey in a Top Hat" bit as told by Svetlana Mendoza, Part VIII:

The two arrived at the eatery, and seated themselves as was the policy
They sat for a whole 20 minutes before the server took their order
This severely limited their eating time as the lunch break was nearly over

To Be Kontinued...

Letting The Days Go By...

2010-09-12T23:46:00.000-07:00

It's been three earth years since The Kreation Kause first voyaged into the uncharted waters of the world wide web. That's over 94 million seconds ago! But enough algebra. The fact is, we've exceeded even our own wildest expectations--though some would suggest otherwise. Time and time again, The Kreation Korner has found itself teetering on the abyss of kultural konsciousness. Critics say, "does Kreationism matter? Is it relevant?" Some seem to think we've gone the way of the salad shooter. Well then let this third anniversary prove otherwise! In the next year to come, The Korner will prove that the world needs Kreationism now more than ever. The problems plaguing this planet have only gotten worse: the hungry have become hungrier, the disillusioned have become more so and pop music award shows continue to suck. We here at TKK are ready to reverse this disturbing trend with a blowing of the mind, body and soul the likes of which mankind has never witnessed before. To prove we're not bluffing, here's a frontal assault by none other than Chris Peebles:

"The Four Elements, Part Two"

drip, drip, drip

My faucet's broke.
My facets choke
my throat.
The varied elements
of my life conspire
to evoke unseemly
reactions.

drip, drip, drip

Who cares what
life is?
I sure don't.
The plumber who nailed
me to this floor
was only doing his job.
The unpopular approach
is also necessary.

drip, drip, drip

His forlorn face said it
all, he was fettered by
his past.
No redemption.
Move on with previous mis-
deeds as a constant reminder
to improve one's self and
seek better tomorrows.

drip, drap, drep, drop, drup
and, on occasion, dryp

Poet's Korner

2010-09-04T10:44:00.000-07:00

"Contemplations on Pink Man"
You great pink bastard.
Why do you mock me so?
You are there to bring me down,
Flitting about like a wad of overripe bubble gum.
Get out of my life, I say!
Quit the flitting, or I shall quit thee of thy life!
Do you understand now the stakes, man?
You are the wind beneath my wings?
You are the gum beneath my shoes.

-Boo Merengue

Korner Wisdom

2010-08-17T10:47:00.000-07:00

No. 14: "Tread lightly on Mother Earth's paper-thin epidermis. She is very old."
No. 15: "There's no polite way to say 'go fuck yourself'."

Komedy Korner

2010-08-13T10:55:00.000-07:00

The old "Donkey in a Top Hat" bit as told by Svetlana Mendoza, Part VII:

The donkey and the foreman stepped out of the rendering plant into the street
It was an unusually cold day--55 degrees was rare in August
El Genérico was ten blocks away, so the man and beast headed toward their destination at a considerable clip

To Be Kontinued...

Kommune Update

2010-08-10T12:47:00.000-07:00

Today we sit down with chief designer of the new Kreation Korner Kommune, Steve Adore.

KK: So Steve, how’d you land this gig?

SA: Well, a few months ago I was walking through Downtown Boise when out of nowhere I was hit by a flying spoonful of oatmeal. Boy, was I steamed! But I soon learned it was part of a performance piece by GRECH, and, true patron of the arts that I am, I decided to take part. In between hurling assorted breakfast foodstuffs at passersby just begging for kreative enlightenment, GRECH and I got to talking about the sorry state of the KKHQ. When she mentioned that they were looking to relocate, I jumped at the chance to aid in any way that I could.

KK: The Kreation Korner is practically in the business of mind-, body-, and soul-blowing. Naturally, such tendencies must have a space in which to be brought to fruition. What special challenges did you find in designing the new Kommune?

SA: I went into it with mindset that I was designing this place basically for children – lots of soft padding on corners, safety glass, etc. So, erm, yes, what I did before laying out my floor plan was to imagine a group of large, potentially overweight toddlers on a constant collision course with kreativity. And while kreativity can certainly be enlightening, it also poses the very real risk of bodily injury.

As for seating, lots of bean bags. This way, during the next feast of fertilizer pancakes or whatever, the Krew has nothing to do but sit their asses down and focus on the matter at hand, whatever that might be.

And, of course, to keep one’s mind and soul limber and sufficiently blown, one must also attend to one’s body. So naturally, there’s a toilet.

KK: Now that the work is all wrapped up, will you be sticking around the Kommune or moving onto other projects?

SA: I don’t expect this place to last long without my ongoing supervision. Did you see what they did to the last place?

Kommune Korner

2010-07-30T11:51:00.000-07:00

We apologize for the konspicuous lack of new kontent as of late. As we quickly discovered during the past several weeks, it's awfully difficult to kreate when you're up to your adam's apple in moving boxes. That's right, the Korner Krew has put a down payment on new communal lodgings! Our new kreationist's loft is situated a stone's throw and several hundred feet from the HQ--easily within walking or penny-farthing distance. From what we can tell, our domicile is some sort of former light industrial space. It's a fixer-upper for sure, but we've managed to partition the two forward loading bays into well-appointed kwarters and repurpose the defunct break room into a makeshift kitchen. All in all, it's the perfect rough-n-tumble, derelict setting to inspire kreativity. Plus, it has access to a railroad siding for all of our shipping and receiving needs--so no complaints there. As the new saying goes: "a family that lives together and works together, kreates together."

Photos not yet available. Turns out you have to develop film before exposing it to direct sunlight. Live and learn. Stay tuned!

Poet's Korner

2010-07-14T14:40:00.000-07:00

Pig death.

Double rainbow.

What does it mean?

What does it mean?

-Nathan Rhombus

Poet's Korner

2010-07-11T16:49:00.000-07:00

With rubble and wars abroad and oily water and joblessness at home, distress seems more or less universal. But fret not. As always, Chris Peebles has taken it upon himself to lift us all from the depths of despondency. We present you his innovative new Peeblesian sonnet entitled "Winged Infiltration." Sip:

Why have the birds built their nest in my house?
My house has small windows that are rarely open.
The door, too, stays shut most the time--unless
someone is coming or going.
How, then, did these avian interlopers gain entry
to my abode?
Somebody let them in.
But who?
And when?
And why?
Do they think my Formica needs a veneer of white excreta?
Or my carpet more downy feathers than it already has?
I like birds just as much as the next homeowner,
but this is an outrage.
Excuse me if I don't like robins in my home, or eagles,
or whatever they are.
I'm no ornithologist--I took my training in botany.

Komedy Korner

2010-07-09T10:38:00.000-07:00

The old "Donkey in a Top Hat" bit as told by Svetlana Mendoza, Part VI:

The foreman was in utter shock: how was it already his lunch break?
"Look," he said, "this is a lot to lay on a guy. Let's talk about this over enchiladas. My treat."
"Fine," replied the donkey. "It's loud and stinky in here anyways."

To Be Kontinued...

Header Korner

2010-07-02T22:51:00.000-07:00

Hello, good mutants and mutettes. If you had noticed the new manifestation of divine Kreation atop this blog and were wondering, What's the story with this?, you're in luck! Our latest header comes by way of longtime Korner affiliate and notorious street artist, Blenko. While some have construed his nom-de-plume as a reference to the anonymity of street art, or perhaps to the blank canvas that is the urban metropolis, the true origin of his/her name is much more humble. "BlendCo was actually just this brand of microwaveable chicken pot pies when I was growing up. I remember loving those things and thinking, 'One day, I too will have a name as famous as Blendco.' Guess it had a bigger impact on me than I thought."
The piece on display for you now is exemplary of Blenko's style, with a deft combination of political and social commentary, pressing the viewer to consider the political as personal and vice-versa, as well as sharks, which are fun to draw. Blenko's work has so been appreciated by the Korner enklave that the higher-ups decided to feature the 'Red Scare' character as a balloon in our inaugural Kreation Korner Thanksgiving Day parade, which will be staged at and around Central Park in New York, barring any prior reservations made my other entities. For now, take this two-dimensional rendering as a primer course in Steez.