Poet's Korner

"Dreamscape - Jan. 2, 2013"

A final bastion, a reverent outpost

debauched into chaos

Impertinent adolescents mob

and slaughter the lamb 

haphazardly

A nominal frock stands

green and feeble

Folds like a crumb-strewn

napkin on a marble

slab adrift in unordinary times

An urgent matronly appeal

thrust face to face

for sanity's sake

as neighbors to the rear

carry on out of context

Back at the kiosk they resume 

an exchange between drags

Conceal the smut from the 

cubby hole and recede to 

the door, for guilt and a hearth

--Chris Peebles   

Komedy Korner

Bro 1: Hey man, do you wanna smoke a fat blunt later?
Bro 2: No can do. I gotta take my girlfriend to chemotherapy.
Bro 1: Dude, you are so whipped!

--Svetlana Mendoza

We’re Back! A Kreationist’s Story

Good (fill in time of day) to you! Words are largely insufficient to convey how great it feels to be back in Boise, or “The C.O.T.” as Gabe Gabriel’s son calls it. The story of our escape is far too harrowing to recount in the delicate format of the blog, but luckily Lee Watt somehow managed to illustrate the whole affair (please mail us a self-addressed envelope and $19.99 in pre-1999 quarters for your copy today!). While it is certainly a relief to finally be free of our retreat hosts and their Svengali-like hospitality, what exactly have we returned to? As far as we can tell, the world didn’t “end” on December 21st. But it also doesn’t appear that humanity has crossed into a golden era of global harmony and understanding, as a more optimistic reading of the Mayan portent might suggest. Our world remains mired in a quicksand of strife and consternation, where finite reserves of metallic substances are disproportionately allocated to the manufacture of assault-type weapons rather than the fabrication of structural steel to shore up homes and other buildings in earthquake-prone, impoverished regions. In this coming year, we yearn in earnest for the dawn of a misery-free, utopian age--even if such an age renders the role of Kreationism superfluous. Until such a time, however, the objectives remain mostly clear and the Korner’s mission is far from komplete. May we all have a productive and fulfilling new year!

Korner Wisdom

No. 29: "Everything is the same, except for several key differences."
No. 30: "Everything is different, except for several key similarities."

BLENKO comes alive!

I don't know what Gabe's wigging out about, this retreat is tits. All the spray paint I could ever want, comfortable bed linens, the whole nine! I mean sure, they make us take turns in the isolation chamber each day to keep our minds "pliable," but isn't that a good thing? It means, like, not stiff, right? And you know, maybe it's a small price to pay for a much-needed break from the ol' KKHQ. As a friend once told me, there's no such thing as a free panini. And this panini is dang tasty. No, really. It's got, like, roasted bell peppers n shit on it... I'm like, what'd you guys do, fly in that Emenil dude or something? Wait, no. That's not right. Emenil's the stuff they keep giving us before we hit the hay. After that, we get these nightmares our retreat coordinators call "horsefevers." Ah well, like I said, big fuckin' whoop, Gabe. This is what happens when you book a retreat off a website that also specializes in unlicensed pharmaceutical testing. Cry me a river, build a bridge, and go fuck yourself.

To anybody receiving this message, this is Gabe Gabriel of The Kreation Korner. I can't talk for long--our "hosts" think I'm safely sekwestered with the others. I just wanted to let the world know that their favorite kontributors are ok, despite our konspicuous lack of output this past month. Our troubles began in late october when we elected to attend a team-building retreat in...in...well...um...we don't know where we are--they blindfolded us for the chopper ride in. I don't have the luxury of time to go into much further detail. Suffice it to say our bonds of kamaraderie have been strengthened by our shared yearning to flee our insular kaptivity. Damn, I think I've been detected. They'll be coming for me soon. Until next time, dear friends, unti..............What am I doing in here? I'm not doing anything...Huh?...Computer?...Oh this computer?...I don't even know how to use one! I'm old-fashioned like that, ha ha...No wait, let's be reasonable! Call off your dogs!...Wait, no, get your hands off me! You can't silence all of us..........................[end of post]

Fiction Korner

"Is This Fiction?"

My arms are cold in a way that they never have been before. The sky tilts and reminds me that finger-picking is, in fact, still an art that deserves rescuing from the mincing dictates of so much indie pop. Then, too, I recall my own struggles with what it is to be masculine, and what I derogatorily castigate as effeminate. Yes, despite my bedding-down in the locus of progressivity, I am beset by personal insecurities, the very manifestations of which have caused my torsic appendages this chill which prompted my prompt. But I am seeking home in the cold of my own creation, which itself will be transformed one way or another in the coming hours.

-Boo Merengue