Some say life’s a path winding through a forest of endless possibilities. Well…we’ll see. In the meantime, Crazy Man and the dog, Sidestepper, will be following that path through the deep dark scary woods every Tuesday and Thursday in a twice weekly saga of their journey.
And who are Crazy Man and the dog, Sidestepper?
I’m not sure. I’m still learning.
Crazy Man was under his bed with an empty bottle of wine for a long time before he decided to look into “this outside thing.” His body exists in one dimension and his mind in another and he’s never been sure which is which. Once on the path, the past begins to slip away and he can’t remember if he has a kitchen or not. Or a garage.
The dog, Sidestepper, is looking for the mother who abandoned him when he was a puppy, causing his body to stay the same size and his legs to grow into long skinny stilts that make him look strangely like an egret nest perched on top of power lines. But don’t think about that…you’ll dream. It won’t be nice.
And he walks sideways. Always.
After a short confrontational greeting during which Crazy Man assures the dog, Sidestepper, that he’s not his mother, the two decide to travel together down the path of adventure and new meanings through the deep dark scary woods.
What awaits them will change their already weird lives into…well…something weirder. You’re welcome to join them on their journey every Tuesday and Thursday but, be warned, nothing good can come of this.
(BTW, you may be wondering why there’s a picture of a bird at the top of this post. I’m wondering about that too.)
It’s a mess. It’s diseased, polluted, over-populated and too close to the sun. But it’s all we have and we’re losing it fast, so we may as well have a good laugh before the sun reaches out and reclaims us.
In Blowing Up, Biff Mitchell shakes the foundations of a world gone bad with outrageous dollops of inappropriate humor. Nothing is sacred, nothing is spared. Nothing is safe in a world accumulating too much ammunition for too few targets.
So welcome to Mitchell’s world of ghosts who have to get the last word, ball-busting muses who torture for the hell of it, a woman who sheds rabbits from her eyes instead of tears, an office of petty-minded workers fused together in a nuclear holocaust and a world where you write grammatically correct essays or starve to death.
But there will be laughter.
This Christmas, give the gift of laughter in spite of the world.