The Blotter Magazine 2005-01

6.2 MB·English

by  The Blotter Magazine

TT hh ee BB ll oo tt tt ee rr
January 2004
It(cid:146)s Amazing How Much We Have in Common When We Start Admitting Things www.blotterrag.com
EXPLICIT CONTENT
ADVISORY
this issue contains
bad language and
d e p i c t s
unsavory events
S p e c i a l a l l - B l o t t e r - s t a f f i s s u e !
Thrill to Marty Smith(cid:146)s (cid:147)Paper Cuts(cid:148)! Chill with a new story by Johnny
Pence! Get stupid ill with J.P.(cid:146)s photos of the Boxerworks Collection of
wicked wicker motorcycles! Fetch me my pills so I can understand the
poetry of Jenny Haniver! Have your fill of a dumb little piece about
Things and Their Drinks!
plus, the good ol(cid:146) dream journal
The
Blot ter page 2 January 2005
The Blotter i s :
Johnny Pence.....Yeti Cub
Items Worth Mentioning
Martin K. Smith...Publisher-at-Large,
Treasurer from the desk of Johnny Pence
Jenny Haniver ..Pseudonym
James C. Werner.....Minister of
Information Get to Work, You Lazy Sacks
Advertisers and Subscriptions Contact: Between the time the December issue came out and the deadline for this
Martin K. Smith issue, we didn(cid:146)t get a single submission of anything longer than a 15-line
[email protected]
poem. I can(cid:146)t fill sixteen pages like that. This magazine exists not only to
919.286.7760
entertain you lazy townie artsy-fartsies, but also to publish your work.
Submissions and Editorial Business to:
Gimme. Or else.
Jenny Haniver So for this issue, we decided to indulge our own egos and only publish
[email protected]
our own stuff. I(cid:146)d actually have liked another couple of months to let my
Johnny Pence, Editor in Chief
story ferment; Idon(cid:146)t think it(cid:146)s quite ready, but it fills up a couple pages.
[email protected]
706.583.9098 (business hrs. only! you Marty can always be counted on to read something weird and write about
may call for info. about snail-mail it, and Jenny can cough up a poem like nothing if she has cabbage for lunch,
submissions)
so it(cid:146)s no problem this time. But in the future, I(cid:146)d appreciate it if you at least
All content copyright 2004 sent in submissions.
by the artist, not the magazine.
Or money. Or something. You should be ashamed of yourself, really.
Cover art: Detail of photo of the
artist(cid:146)s mother-in-law and dog, copy-
right 1999 by Shelley Pence.
The Blotter is a production of Goodbye, Cruel World
The Blotter Magazine, Inc.,
Ihave dreadful news everybody. My 1968 Ford LTD, my grandmother(cid:146)s
Durham, NC.
ISSN 1549-0351 car, the one with the 390 cu. inch engine, the one Iwrote about in an early
www.blotterrag.com
issue, finally died. Ifeel rotten because I had been halfheartedly trying to sell
We often use Bobco fonts, copyrighted
her to someone who had a garage and could take care of her. The fatal prob-
shareware from the Church of the
Subgenius. Prabob. We also use Mary lem was frame rust, which Iknew about, but never suspected that the
Jane Antique and other freeware
fonts from Apostrophic Labs and ass-end would just break loose one day when I was coming back from the
b
other fonts from other sources.
Kroger. Damn it. Breaks my heart. And, Iguess, my car.
The Blotter is published monthly and dis- Filth and Foul
tributed one weekend in the first half of
each month. We enjoy a free circulation The story that starts on the next page has horrible language in it. I apol-
throughout the NCTriangle, in select loca-
ogize if that offends you, but that(cid:146)s just the way this story had to be told. It
tions in NC and VA, and in Athens, GA.
Submissions are always welcome, as are ad also features drug abuse (Because really, is any drug (cid:147)use(cid:148) not (cid:147)abuse(cid:148)?
inquiries and opportunities to cross-
promote interesting events. Make no mistake, the evil marijuana is a killer!And high fructose corn
syrup, too!), poverty, insanity, smoking, alcohol use (note the distinction),
Subscriptions are available for $25/year (in and poop. Maybe it(cid:146)s best if you just don(cid:146)t even read it and look at the pic-
the US only). Send check or money order,
name and address to The Blotter tures on pp. 8-9 instead. I(cid:146)d hate for you to get upset.
Subscriptions, 1010 Hale Street, Durham,
NC27705.Back issues are also available, 5
for $5. Inquire about availability by e-mail:
[email protected].
(cid:151)[email protected]
This magazine may contain typos or bad words
The
January 2005 page 3 Blot ter
The Dream Journal
Scat
real dreams, real weird
by Johnny Pence
i don(cid:146)t hate anybody but nazis
She was the only person I(cid:146)ve space, of vastness, of retrievability.
ever met who made me The albums here were stacked in I am in Berlin on the morning after the
instantly uncomfortable, crates against the end of the trailer, Night of the Long Knives, when
Hitler’s followers killed off their oppo-
right away. It(cid:146)s not as if she did any- essentially creating a cube of vinyl
nents (some of whom were gay) and
thing or said anything, or even that reached to the ceiling and
seized control of the Nazi party. As I
looked at me funny. She just gave me spanned the walls. This solid mass walk down a street, I note the bodies
the creeps. reduced the space that the trailer of murdered Nazi homosexuals falling
(cid:147)Yeah, I been collecting for about architects had planned to be a living out of upstairs windows, and think "Ah
ha: the Night of Long Knives has just
fifteen years,(cid:148) she said, leaning back room to barely enough space to stand
happened, Hitler has taken power, I
in the cracked Naugahyde stool. (cid:147)It(cid:146)s in the center and begin pulling boxes
should leave the country pronto." So I
pretty much what I do.(cid:148) Once upon out of the way. The room smelled like go to the Bahnhof to book a Wagons-
a time, she was probably a knockout, decades of cigarettes and Ben Gay, Lits sleeper to Paris. But the girl
but any good looks had faded starkly like pork fat and short-haired dogs, behind the ticket window says I have
to fill out this survey before I can leave
and quickly. hardly archival conditions for some of
the country. It’s a multiple-choice
She cracked open a Natural Light these rare and amazingly valuable
questionnaire, with illustrations like old
and pointed at it. I declined as discs. 19th-century engravings, slightly
politely as I could, but my distaste I was there because I(cid:146)m a college- greenish in color. One shows a group
was probably obvious. I was very radio jazz DJ. I(cid:146)m not great, I(cid:146)m not of people, white and Negro, naked
and squabbling around a palm tree,
much ill at ease, and was perhaps especially knowledgeable, and I(cid:146)ve
with questions like "Is this an appropri-
mildly awed to be speaking with her. really only been serious about jazz for
ate thing for a white person to be
My strange gut feelings, her appear- a year or two. When I wanted to doing? for a Negro? an appropriate
ance and reputation, all combined in expand my show, I started poking position for a white to be in relative to
that foul-smelling and dingy trailer to around online. That(cid:146)s where I found a Negro?" Another shows a row of
noses of different shapes, presumably
create an atmosphere of bizarre, sti- MonksNun666. She(cid:146)s not helpful to
ranging from "Aryan" to "Jewish," and
fling tension. It is no figure of speech newbies, and she(cid:146)s not courteous to
asks "Which are more appropriate for
when I say that I genuinely wondered anyone. She is a shameless scavenger, a person to have?" I realize with dis-
for a second if I was dreaming. always looking to buy more records may that this survey is to find out
I was in the presence of and to buy them cheap. where I stand on race issues. If I
answer the questions the way they
MonksNun666, as she(cid:146)s known to (cid:147)So, you got a radio show, huh?(cid:148)
want, I’ll be betraying my deepest con-
Usenet and a half-dozen online jazz she mumbled, coaxing a Marlboro
victions; but if I answer according to
bulletin boards, the most authorita- Light out of the box, holding it like a my convictions, they might not let me
tive voice on collectible jazz vinyl I(cid:146)ve dangerous and unfamiliar thing. leave the country.
ever come across. In a discussion (cid:147)Oh yeah? Well, It(cid:146)s just(cid:151)(cid:148)
forum, MonksNun666 ends argu- (cid:147)Just? What(cid:146)s it just? Just another (cid:151)M.S., Durham
ments. She knows every track on clichØd greatest-hits jazz program on
every album pressed in Amsterdam or another low-wattage, crummy college
New York or Havana, and she knows radio station? Somebody should Please send excerpts from your
dream journals to Jenny at
them because she owns them. either educate you pricks or extermi- m e r m a i d @ b l o t t e r r a g . c o m .
And here I was, gawking at her nate the lot of you. Makes me want to If nothing else, we love to
read them. We won(cid:146)t publish
library. Perhaps (cid:147)library(cid:148) is the wrong puke.(cid:148) your whole name.
word. A library conjures images of Well now. I(cid:146)d heard through some
The
Blot ter page 4 January 2005
friends at the radio station that up at an unfriendly stranger(cid:146)s house have the stomach to touch them? I
MonksNun666 lived out in with a useless gift, with nothing to was at the edge of fear. I wanted to
Cloverdale, which is only twenty say but a few feeble compliments flee. My stomach was nervous and
minutes from my house, and I felt a about the record collection I was too starting to cramp. I looked at the
compulsion to meet her. I wasn(cid:146)t ashamed to approach. stacks and wondered, and the trailer
looking for a guru or a mentor(cid:151)I (cid:147)What(cid:146)s that?(cid:148) she asked when door opened.
actually disliked her fairly strongly the gravel in the driveway outside A tall, thin, dangerous-looking
from her posts. It was just an irre- crunched? I heard an engine cut off man came in, wiping GoJo off his
sistible pull. That much vinyl, that and a door shut. hands with a shop towel. I was
much historic vinyl, all in one place(cid:151) She squinted and stared at her stunned; was this a jealous husband?
I just had to see it. I can(cid:146)t explain it cigarette, (cid:147)FedEx? FedEx.(cid:148) That would be appropriate. Would I
any better than that. So, rather than Then another car door slammed die here? Based only on the feeling in
show up empty-handed, I had a gift: and there was some commotion out- my stomach, it felt like I could.
a CD burned from the soundboard side. Someone should die in a crime of
tape of Dave Brubeck playing a little (cid:147)No, damn it. It ain(cid:146)t FedEx.(cid:148) passion in this trailer.
club in Paris. It(cid:146)s really smoking, and My skin was crawling. I won- (cid:147)Hey Francie(cid:148)(cid:151)ah, her name is
as far as I know, damn close to dered if I could say anything to shift Francie(cid:151)(cid:147)last time you drove the
unique. I burned the CD from an old the conversation(cid:151)well, not so much Taurus, did you notice any problem
girlfriend who stole the only copy of shift it as create it. Or was this some with get-up-and-get?(cid:148)
the soundboard tape from her ex kind of Master/Disciple test where (cid:147)Hey, hey. Hi. I(cid:146)m(cid:151)(cid:148) I started.
when they broke up. she was putting me in an uncomfort- (cid:147)I didn(cid:146)t notice nothing,(cid:148) Francie
But MonksNun666 didn(cid:146)t have a able silence to see how I reacted, to said to her beer.
CD player. see just how much I was willing to (cid:147)When did you drive it?(cid:148) the man
So I was left in the exceptionally put up with before she let me look asked.
awkward position of having shown through her records? But did I even (cid:147)God, I don(cid:146)t know! This morn-
ing? What the fuck? Leave me alone!(cid:148)
(cid:147)No problem accelerating? No
smells?(cid:148) he asked, angry, impatient.
I smelled something. There was
gas, but there was also something rot-
ten, something fecal.
(cid:147)Lookit, Francie, that damn Ford
was just squirting gas onto the engine
from the fuel line. You gotta let me
know when you feel stuff go wrong
like that. It had to be just about dead
on the road; you won(cid:146)t getting no gas
to the injectors. It ain(cid:146)t safe to drive
around squirting gas on a hot engine.
I smelled it when I was walking in
and Ifixed it in just a second. It was
real easy(cid:151)
(cid:147)This bitch ain(cid:146)t got no manners
neither,(cid:148) the man said, interrupting
himself, offering a hand that had
been wiped, but was still greasy and
The
January 2005 page 5 Blot ter
GoJoey. (cid:147)I(cid:146)m Dave.(cid:148) I took his hand hissed, and Dave shut the fuck up.
out of fear. He collected a long lock-blade knife
(cid:147)Ha. Ha. Hey. Thanks, I(cid:151)(cid:148) what from a pocket and began working the
was that smell? crud out from under his nails. When
(cid:147)Give it a fucking rest, Dave,(cid:148) she he was done with that, he tapped the
said to her cigarette butt as she knife on the Formica and looked at
smashed it out. (cid:147)What am I supposed me, unblinking.
to feel when I(cid:146)m driving that heap of After an uncomfortable silence
shit?(cid:148) that could have been ten seconds or
(cid:147)Whatever, you dumb cunt. You three years, I put my hands on the
never feel nothing,(cid:148) Dave said with Formica, stood up and stammered,
the practiced fearlessness that comes (cid:147)Well, I guess I better(cid:151)(cid:148)
from speaking horribly to someone (cid:147)Come on outside and let me
for years. show you something, buddy,(cid:148) Dave
(cid:147)So,(cid:148) he turned to me, (cid:147)you here said, grabbing my arm. I tried to
to see the records? We get college- swallow, but my throat was packed
boys like you around here every now with cotton. What was going on?
and then. Has she showed you any? Okay, so it really was possible that I
Played any for you?(cid:148) His eyes were could die here. I tried to say some-
huge behind strong glasses. thing, but my voice cracked like a
(cid:147)Uh(cid:151)(cid:148) thirteen-year-old(cid:146)s. At this point, I
(cid:147)Don(cid:146)t expect her to show you realized that it was Dave(cid:146)s smell that
nothin(cid:146). I don(cid:146)t know the last time I(cid:146)d been catching whiffs of for the
she(cid:151)(cid:148) past few minutes. I thought it might
(cid:147)Shut the fuck up, Dave,(cid:148) she have been a rancid cat box, or maybe
something fetid in the refrigerator,
Altered Image
but it was him.
Hair Designers, Inc. Good God, what was that smell?
I was pulled up and out the door,
1113 1/2 Broad St
down the steps of the trailer, all in the
Durham, NC 27705
slow-motion anxiety of the moments
[phone]
before a car crash or an ass-kicking. I
noticed the blurring tattoos on his
forearms: an indistinct dagger-
through-the-skin on one and a classic
prison cross-on-Golgotha on the
other. I noticed a couple dead plants
in terra cotta pots. I saw the clothes
on the line. I saw large dog paw prints
in greasy red clay. What was happen-
ing? Where was I being taken?
We reached the Taurus; a chip-
ping, formerly red paint job yielded
to primer gray on the hood and fend-
ers. It reeked of gas, and the
Dave-smell was stronger out here. It
The
Blot ter page 6 January 2005
was about lunchtime, July, maybe 90 ing stupid face....(cid:148) He handed me the doing something. I don(cid:146)t want to
degrees and on the way up, dry as my little joint and I took it, my throat sound like a sissy, but I love babies.(cid:148)
mouth. Dave still had my arm, but feeling a lot better after a whiskey (cid:147)Damn.(cid:148)
reached inside the car, grabbed some- treatment. I gave the joint a once- (cid:147)So you understand why I hate it
thing, and dragged us both behind over to make sure I wasn(cid:146)t smoking when people want to respect her.
the trailer. love boat or putting my fingers on She(cid:146)s nothing but those records.
Still in slow-motion, I remember Dave(cid:146)s slobber or anything, and I People come here on goddamn pil-
seeing that the living-room end of the almost missed the expression on his grimages, bringing her gifts and shit.
trailer bent and now drooped precip- face. Behind the terribly distorting She don(cid:146)t deserve none of it. Maybe
itously off the jackstand. The weight glasses, he almost had a tear welling she did when she was just Francie,
of all those records had buckled the up. and I loved Francie. But now that
frame. (cid:147)... What kills me is that she used she(cid:146)s MonksNun666, that(cid:146)s all she is.
Dave spun me around to face to be really great. Pretty, smart, good I don(cid:146)t even know, she(cid:146)s like a ghost or
him. I still couldn(cid:146)t swallow or speak. dancer, funny, and she had a heart something ... no, a ghost is a soul
I thought I might pass out in the heat inside her, a soul. Now she(cid:146)s just hol- without a body; she(cid:146)s a body without
and anxiety. I still expected to be low and stupid, and it(cid:146)s them damn a soul. It leaves me here all alone, but
murdered for some reason, or no rea- records that made her that way. worse. If I was alone, I would take
son, and it hurt me that I wasn(cid:146)t (cid:147)I used to think she was some- care of my own shit. She just messes
facing it more bravely. At least if I thing special(cid:151)ain(cid:146)t nobody around it up,(cid:148) he said, pouring some turpen-
could have spoken I could have said here listen to anything that ain(cid:146)t on tine into a little empty coffee can and
something noble. But then again, I KIX Country. Them records is what dropping a ruined paint brush in it.
could have much more easily been got me interested in her(cid:151)well that (cid:147)Trifling. Everything here is ruined,
reduced to begging for my life. and she was alive back then.(cid:148) and it(cid:146)s all mine. She just leaves shit
Dave produced a pint bottle of (cid:147)Damn,(cid:148) I coughed to him, half-done and walks away, back to the
Jim Beam and a half-burnt joint. He about her, about the joint, about his computer.(cid:148)
offered me the bottle, which I eagerly situation. I handed it back. It worked out that I got the last
took. I pulled a couple times while he (cid:147)It didn(cid:146)t happen all at once, but little hit off the joint and tossed it
lit the half-joint with a little Bic it happened. She started buying absently at the foundation of the
lighter that kept petering out in the records that she wouldn(cid:146)t never listen trailer. I looked up, newly stoned, try-
hot breeze. to. She still ain(cid:146)t even heard most of ing to get my bearings, trying to get
(cid:147)Most important thing, bud: what(cid:146)s in there. She started getting my head around where I was and
don(cid:146)t listen to that bitch. Don(cid:146)t phone calls in the middle of the night what I was doing there. I wondered
respect her. Don(cid:146)t care about those from people in Romania or about whether I could drive home.
records. They all she has to tell the Goddamn Luxembourg, wanting to Sure as shit, I was going to drive out
world who she is, and without them buy something from her, for a lot of of there, and soon. Dave punched me
she ain(cid:146)t dick. If you don(cid:146)t give in and money too, but she wouldn(cid:146)t sell playfully in the arm and pointed to
act like she(cid:146)s hot shit for having all nothing. She stopped working, but the main road of the trailer park
them records, maybe she(cid:146)ll take a look she kept wanting to buy more. That(cid:146)s where the FedEx truck was kicking
at herself(cid:151)(cid:148) why I took the job at the diaper serv- up dust, fishtailing in the gravel.
(cid:147)So that(cid:146)s what you brought me ice ...(cid:148) Ah-ha! That was the smell. Every dog in a wide radius around us
out here for? To tell me that?(cid:148) (cid:147)... it pays pretty good if you can went apeshit.
(cid:147)No, she don(cid:146)t let me get high in put up with baby shit all day in the (cid:147)Here it comes. You know what
the house. Says the smoke(cid:146)s bad for heat(cid:151)and at least babies are alive. she(cid:146)s got today?(cid:148)
the records. You see how much she Mommas come out to drop off this (cid:147)She said something about
smokes in there? Bitch. No, I(cid:146)da told week(cid:146)s bag of shit, and the little mon- FedEx.(cid:148)
you all this right in front of her fuck- key(cid:146)s on her hip laughing or crying or (cid:147)Today we(cid:146)re getting a studio
The
January 2005 page 7 Blot ter
pressing of the Chick Webb (cid:147)Me? Shit no. Skynyrd. But I fig- The roach from that joint had
Orchestra with Ella God-Damn ure if all this junk is bleeding me dry, smoldered up into a little smoking
Fitzgerald singing (cid:145)A-Tisket, A- I ought to know a little bit about it. smudge, about the size of a half-dol-
Tasket(cid:146) in 1937. You know what that Maybe once the bitch dies of lung lar. I walked over to stomp it out, and
means?(cid:148) cancer or malnutrition I can sell some as I approached, the smudge met up
I was stoned. I might(cid:146)ve known, of it. (cid:148) with a greasy pool of discarded motor
but I was just smiling and nodding at (cid:147)Not to mention what it(cid:146)s doing oil soaking into more dried grass.
that point. to your house.(cid:148) I joked, pointing at (cid:147)Shit,(cid:148) I giggled, (cid:147)now that(cid:146)s a
(cid:147)That song was Ella(cid:146)s first big the bent trailer frame. He looked at fire!(cid:148)
break, what made her famous. She me hard and cold, then laughed a lit- I began stomping that fire, and it
was just riding on Chick Webb(cid:146)s coat- tle. spread to the turpentine, then to the
tails back then. He was a bigshot (cid:147)This ain(cid:146)t no house. It(cid:146)s a trailer.(cid:148) gas. Time for giggling was over. Time
band leader(cid:151)not to mention a little The FedEx guy got the package(cid:151) for leaving had been delayed.
hunchbacked dwarf!(cid:148) Dave said this which looked like something you(cid:146)d (cid:147)Francie! Get the fire extin-
last hunching over and making a transport human eyes or plutonium guisher!(cid:148) Dave called, trying to beat
gruesome face. (cid:147)But he was sickly and in(cid:151)and walked up to the door. Dave the fire out with his shirt.
he died. Everybody knows who Ella waved. The FedEx guy nodded, left (cid:147)Fuck you!(cid:148) she yelled from
is. Hardly anybody ever heard of the package on the doorstep, and left. inside.
Chick Webb.(cid:148) (cid:147)Watch this,(cid:148) Dave said as he (cid:147)I(cid:146)m serious, you dumb bitch!
(cid:147)Yeah? Wow.(cid:148) tried to get a couple more drops out Get the fucking fire extinguisher!(cid:148)
(cid:147)No, that ain(cid:146)t the (cid:145)wow.(cid:146) The of the empty pint bottle. The fire was underneath the hood
(cid:145)wow(cid:146) is that (cid:145)A-Tisket(cid:146) was released in The FedEx guy drove away, the of the Taurus and the rubber belts
1938. This recording in the truck is dogs quieted, and still nothing stirred
something from the studio; appar- from inside the trailer. Iwondered
ently Chick Webb was sick and what I was watching for. I kicked a
fucked up the drums and didn(cid:146)t like big, dry turd in the dust, almost too
Ella(cid:146)s voice on this recording and big to have come from a dog, and I
scrapped it. They released the real pondered this. After a couple min-
deal the next year. The feller who sold utes, Francie opened the door, looked
it to Francie said you can hear Chick all around like a prairie dog, and
Webb cussing at the end.(cid:148) snatched the package greedily. Dave
(cid:147)Cool.(cid:148) laughed, (cid:147)Better get back inside
(cid:147)And that ain(cid:146)t even the (cid:145)cool(cid:146) bitch, before the sun burns your skin
part! The (cid:145)cool(cid:146) is that Ella forgot the off!(cid:148)
words(cid:151)this is the first recording of She flipped us both off and
her scatting! But Chick Webb was screamed (cid:147)Fuck YOU!(cid:148) way too
such a hardass he only wanted the loud, shaking her head violently.
lyrics. She started that doodly-oot I felt the car keys in my pocket
shit and Chick went nuts! It made and started walking to my car. I
him so mad he had to go to the hos- couldn(cid:146)t wait to leave, and leave
pital for a couple weeks after this quickly. It was time to scram. I
session.(cid:148) looked down at the dry turd I(cid:146)d been
(cid:147)Wow.(cid:148) kicking, maybe wishing it farewell,
(cid:147)You said it, brother.(cid:148) and breathed in the air of gasoline,
(cid:147)So you like this music?(cid:148) I asked, diaper-methane, and burning grass(cid:151)
forgetting myself. Burning grass?
W I C K E D W I C K E R
the boxerworks collection
bottom picture, the lineup (left to right):
a wicker boxer-type (that is, horizontally
oppozed twin-cylinder) engine w/ side-
car rig; a real 1951 BMW R67; awicker
older-American-looking V-twin, w/ tele-
scopic forks, rear suspension; 1973
BMW R75/5,(cid:147)not exactly stock,(cid:148) not
for sale; wicker American-looking V-twin
w/ saddlebags, light bar, tach, and
springer forks.
this page, top row:
left: detail of wicker V-twin engine,
clutch cable, gearbox.
right: front to back: the older-looking
wicker V-twin; the (cid:145)51 R67, the weird
wicker boxer w/ sidecar.
everything shown here (except Nathan(cid:146)s
(cid:145)73 R75/5) is for sale.
www.boxerworks.com
[email protected]
In the countryside outside of Athens, GA, there(cid:146)s a
fairly renowned establishment specializing in the
service, repair, and restoration of older (cid:147)boxer(cid:148)-
engine motorcycles:BMWs, Urals, and whatever the
Chinese government makes (a little pre-war
espionage and reverse-engineering at Stalin(cid:146)s behest
landed the blueprints for Nazi BMWs in Russian and
Chinese factories, where they(cid:146)re still built pretty
n much to WWII specs).
This little bike shop, known to BMW and Ural enthusi-
asts all over as Boxerworks, is also home to about
38.7 million restorations, used bikes, project bikes,
and heaps and basket cases in various stages of
assembly. One day this fall, I happened to be poking
around in the welding shop and stumbled across a
half-dozen bizarre wicker bikes piled up in the corner.
These wicker models were amazingly detailed, and
genuinely strange. Iasked Nathan Mende, the owner
of Boxerworks, about them, and he said they were
shipped back from China by one of his buddies who
was on a scavenging expedition, looking for commie
bike parts.
How does the production of model wicker motorcy-
cles benefit the Chinese state or its workers? Why so
much detail? They(cid:146)re certainly not meant for the
average Chinese farmer; are they for tourists? Can
you fit one of them on the plane? In general, what
the hell? Why? Huh?
Nathan had no answers, but let me photograph these
amazing straw oxymorons. He even rolled out a cou-
ple real steel bikes for us to enjoy.
The
Blot ter page 10 January 2005
and hoses caught. Maybe the battery standing, looking at his trailer. the speakers out of the gaping trailer-
blew up, but something blew the The sagging living-room end had hole and turned the volume all the
hood up and off. Flaming pieces of completely fallen off from the con- way up:
plastic and rubber rained down and cussion, and a great number of the
started new little fires in the dry grass. records were now energetically blaz- A-tisket a-tasket
(cid:147)Call 911, you dumb cunt!(cid:148) ing and melting, flames twenty feet A green-and-yellow basket
(cid:147)Go to hell!(cid:148) high, now thirty, capped by a vicious, I bought a basket for my mommie
(cid:147)Francie!(cid:148) toxic black smear that stretched to the And on the way I dropped it
(cid:147)Shut UP! I hate you!(cid:148) sky.
Neighbors ran out of their trailers Francie stood inside the cracked I dropped it, I dropped it
and hurled insults at us. Dogs trailer, clutching a nondescript sepia- Yes, on the way I dropped it
resumed their barking. I felt the anx- colored envelope. A cigarette was A little doo-doot-doo-do picked it up
iety again, much more intensely. The stuck to her lower lip, her mouth gap- A-scoodly-oot-doot do-dot dweee-dot
edges of my vision grew pale and ing.
indistinct; voices were faraway. (cid:147)Well shit.(cid:148) She said, and turned Francie sat down and dangled her
I felt tugging at my shirt and a around, retreating out of sight. legs over the edge of the trailer. She
sting on my face, then another, and I (cid:147)Poor dumb bitch. She(cid:146)s going for tossed the FedEx packaging in to the
realized it was a slap, a hard one. I my pistol, I bet, going to kill herself.(cid:148) fire and laughed.
heard Dave, (cid:147)Hey man, snap out of Dave said, shaking his head sadly,
it, we got to get the fuck out of here!(cid:148) turning away. (cid:147)Who knows, maybe
I think we ran.Then we were it(cid:146)s better this way.(cid:148) o
knocked down. I looked, horrified by his noncha-
I must have only been out for a lance, and saw her tearing through a
few seconds, but it was like waking pile of magazines and empty cigarette
up from a full night(cid:146)s sleep. Flaming packs on a corner of the kitchen cab-
diapers were still falling, some waft- inet.
ing gently as they burned, some Nothing I could have said would
streaking to earth like wet, poopy have been any more appropriate, but
meteors. I have no idea what hap- I admit that what I did say was horri-
pened, but the diaper truck was ble and callous. I(cid:146)m not proud.
Johnny Pence is the editor in
completely blown apart. Diapers were (cid:147)Huh? You keep your pistol in the
chief of the Blotter, a stay-home
everywhere, stuck to trailers, trees, kitchen?(cid:148)
daddy, a homesick Virginian in
cars, me and Dave, falling, falling (cid:147)No. I keep it in the bedr(cid:151) in
Georgia, and can catch 100 pennies
from the sky. I was on my stomach the kitchen?(cid:148) Dave whirled back off his elbow. He is the author of a
with a mouthful of dirt, my elbows around and saw what Francie was up
novel called Waking Up, which was
skinned and bleeding a little. to.
supposed to be released this month,
And there was something else (cid:147)Dude! She(cid:146)s getting out the
but who knows when it(cid:146)ll actually be
falling. Paper drifted down. I rolled turntable!(cid:148)
in print.
over and saw (cid:147)Herb Alpert and the Francie tossed the magazines and
Tijuana Brass(cid:148) as I sat up and looked trash into the fire burning below her
at my legs. (cid:147)Coun ... Bassie(cid:148) flamed and lifted the smoke-colored plastic
s a r a j o b e r m a n
away into ash off to my right. I got up lid of an old Realistic turntable. She
onto my knees and struggled to my put the disc on it and set the needle RCST #190
feet. Marks in the dust told the story; down. At first we could tell she had registered cranioscral therapist
we(cid:146)d been blown off our feet and slid the stereo on, but couldn(cid:146)t hear any- by appointment only
for about two yards. Dave was already thing over the fire. Then she pointed
919-688-6428 [email protected]