Week Thirty-eight(July 13- July 18) Topic: Rapids
Winner: Davis
The Bonding Of Unfamiliars
Another year, another family reunion; that peculiar event wherein apprehensive teenagers are expected to socialize with geriatric seniors who are their great aunt’s husbands parents best friend. An entire pedigree, a progeny, swarm to a centralized habitation; the ‘grown men’ promenade like hyper-competitive 12 year olds whilst the women scoff at them. Great-grandparents are surrounded by the spawn of their spawn’s spawn; everyone masquerades as if they might not be dead by the time the next reunion comes. Where is the ‘angsty’ teenager left in all this jumbled mayhem? He/she is, for all intents and purposes, an idiosyncrasy to the nucleoli of the family.
It was with this predilection that James Elliot approached the annual family excursion to the backwoods Colorado rapids. Each year they traversed through a perilous trail to the luxurious cabin that James’ great-grandfather Leopold Elliot constructed. Completed the year James’ was born, the family has held their social gatherings at the lodge ever the final fake hunting-trophy was hung on the wall. Located a quarter mile through (now paved) were the single-handedly most pristine and audacious rapids in all of Colorado.
James was not only displeased for being detained, imprisoned in a cell of familial obligations; but also because he was missing a monstrous, drunken bash at home. However, James did bring about a quarter of AK-47, the dankest of dank nugget, to smoke, whenever he could meander off from the swarm of flocking, festering relatives long enough. Who knows, he thought, maybe Rick or John smokes now, I could toke up with them.
The Lawrence Elliot’s (as James’ family was called) arrived late at night on 27, July 2009, to find a majority of the family asleep. Irradiating an almost supernatural glow, the house stood like a boulder nestled in the valley of the bosom of the Rockie Mountains. A truly cavernous cabin, all modern amenities provided, standing 2 stories, a basement complete with bar and pool tables down below. Walls that were oddly enough varnished oak, rather than the commonplace carpentry one normally finds a cabin in the ‘wilderness’ to have. A brown staircase, leading through an auburn door that opens up to a majestically hilarious decorated living room. Heads of spurious, artificial animals hang on the wall in mocking amusement.
A green carpeting that surely great-grandfather himself espoused a liking. The family lovingly referred to it only as a ‘puke-green’ color. Each floor had two bathrooms, ornate in design, delicately shining due a Mexican woman who was paid 10 dollars an hour. Multiple massive bedrooms on each floor are accommodating the entire extended Elliot dynasty under one roof. In the mammoth media-room, housing a Herculean plasma television has various children sprawled amongst its furniture. A fake fireplace burns brilliant, its phosphenes illuminating the room in a dull, orange phosphoresce.
Unobtrusively, they adjudicated their luggage to one wall of the cabin, found a bed, and drifted off individually to various bedrooms. James craftily cracked a window, scaled down and smoked a bowl out if his miniature pipe. Gazing philosophically at the pulchritudinous Colorado stars, a sense of leisurely serenity invaded his lazily stoned thoughts. When I get feeling like this, he thought, I need to go bed. On that note, he ascended back towards the vicinity of his bed. James’ current mindset was not bequeathing him stupendous reserves of strength, therefore the ascension was rather strenuous. However, he finally approached his window, flopped down in bed, munching on ‘Flaming Hot Cheetos’ until he wearily floated off to his castle in the air.
. . . . . .
After noon the next day, the family was merrily trudging upwards after a fulfilling morning in the righteous rapids. The prime objective of each omnivorous individual was to expeditiously corral some sort of breaded deceased livestock, slather it with over-chemicaled condiments, and vigorously devour said foodstuff. James’ decided, however, that he was not hungry enough. Hurrying down the trail towards the cabin, he was contemplating inquiring to Rick about his marijuana smoking habits. Finally descrying Rick on the threshold of the trail, he slyly sidled up to Rick’s side. “Hey man, how was your run this morning?” James queried, hiding his motivations. “Oh, not too bad, but I think the fiberglass seat is going to be irritating my ass throughout this whole trip!” chuckled Rick.
Rick and James had always gotten along very well, their connection being that there fathers were brothers. In fact, James thought, my Dad told me that him and Rick’s Dad used to party all the time. Rick was one year older than James and they had essentially grew up together, due to the fact that their father’s remained very close. However, like with most family members, triumphs and tribulations had been shared on the surface only. Individuals spend a majority of their time within the nuclear family, yet it is precisely this nuclear family that is utterly unaware of said individuals true personality. Parents, who are by all means, are ultimately responsible for the life of their children, do not even know these children. Friends in school, and community, have taken away the closeness of the American family; there is no more nuclear family. They all drift apart, merely individuals living under the same roof, feigning closeness when needed. This dilemmic complication only exacerbates itself with the extended family. Such was the case with Rick and James; they have known each other for years, but they didn’t really KNOW each other.
Therefore, James’ proposition was a rather precariously difficult, yet potentially rewarding one; if Rick does in fact, smoke pot, he gains a friend within an environment that, while on surface appears inviting, is actually rather hostile. However, if Rick does not partake, not only would it be an awkward situation, but he may tell his Dad, who may tell James’ Dad, therefore making this a rather risky procedure, indeed. James’ figured that such a critical question should be approached in fact, lightly. He decided to use ‘stoner terminology’ to propose the question.
“Hey Rick, do you want to go, uhhh, ‘stoke’ your appetite before lunch?” James’ said more sheepishly then he wanted too. “Uh, do you mean toke it up?” Rick stated back questionably. “Yeah, dude!” James said enthusiasm. “Of course dude, but I didn’t know you smoked?” Rick said back pleasantly. “Haha, yeah, I have for awhile, but let’s hurry back behind the cabin before our parent’s see us” James send with an awkward sense of urgency.
Stumbling through the brush, they came upon a rotting log about a 200 feet behind the cabin, in a Euclidean clearing, the boys plopped. “What kind of green do you have? I didn’t bring any, old man checks my bags” stated Rick eagerly. While fumbling through his pockets James shot back “AK-47, bought it from a guy downtown. Pretty good stuff, I smoked a bowl last night and was in a trance for like 30 minutes. Heavy stuff, my dude; but I rolled a fat joint up this morning.” Looking back up at Rick, he held said joint up to the light. Crystalline white paper, a perfect cylindrical direct line to the God’s for these two adolescent would-be philosophers. Rick was entering his first of year college, with a major in philosophy, whilst James’ was preparing for English and Linguistics.
The salient spark rose like the sun over the fields of earth towards the tip of the joint, sacramentally igniting the verdant greens incased within. After taking a ravenous pull, James’ gently held the joint out to Rick, cradling it like a newborn. Rick took hold of the ceremonial smoke and inhaled deeply, letting the plumes of smoke slowly waft away from his agape jaws. Passing back and forth, the boys began to feel the familiar relaxation and cessation of mercurial cranial neuron firings. The corpse of the joint burnt flaming hot, a colossal red eye partaking in its surroundings. After what seemed like an eternity to the boys, but in reality was only 15 minutes, James’ extinguished the joint.
“Whoa, dude. I am totally, 100 percent, indefatigably, with-out-a-doubt, empirically stoned as balls” Rick stated, softly and drawn out. “No doubt, my man. I’m glad I asked you to toke. It gets a bit depressing smoking by myself all the time. I feel like Kurt Cobain shooting up in his basement while Courtney Love is out ****ing some guy, or something. You know? I need someone to bounce my philosophic ideas off of anyway, because I always forget them” James said with a surprising amount of enthusiasm. Looking at James lazily, Rick responded “Before we get any meaning-of-the-universe, stoner philosophy, pretentious-fest going on, I need something to munch on.” “Good thing I brought Cheetoes then” said James.
Sitting in silence for a few minutes, the boys violently devoured their munchies with the ferocity of a pack of starving wolfs. Their entire bags were empty, hollow husks of would-be nutrition. “Dude, okay, so you’re going to major in philosophy, right” James stuttered out, breaking the tenacious silence. “Yea” Rick exhaled. “So that means you’re familiar with Wittgenstein and the linguistics, and all that crap, at least a little bit?” stated James. “Yes, I’m somewhat familiar. Enough to attempt to decipher your scrambled thoughts, I hope” Rick replied.
“Okay man, well I’ve been thinking. Look at this grass. Why is this called grass? Can’t I call it airplane, and it would be the same thing? Our entire communication is null and void if a group of individuals wanted it to be. Or what if we don’t all mean the same thing, even if we are using the word the same in a general sense. Like what if I perceived the color turquoise as more of a red or something? Would that invalidate the word for everybody? Or just for me? Is it possible for me to be speaking English, but not have anyone who speaks English to understand me?” James sluggishly exclaimed.
“Whoa, dude. Whoa. Before I got my bearings straight, you just totally blew my mind. I think it can all be settled by saying that correct usage is defined by Standard Written English and that while our perceptions may vary, we all learn that certain words are set for certain things. I think the mystery with words come in if they are actually real or not. Like, if you read a supposed fiction, doesn’t that character become real because they appear as real? Or what about us supposed ‘real’ people. Is there any consciousness separate from the rest of the Universe? How are we defined? We can’t define ourselves can we? Or can we? Are we not defined what others say about us, the words that are written are spoken? Do we not spend our entire lives responding and reacting to the words of others? And if the answer to that that question is yes, where does it end? Is there any line in which we can actually call ourselves independent beings? We are all apart of a natural cycle of life, from dawn of life, to dust. We all respond to outside stimulus. Are we not all merely part of a great conscious experiencing itself subjectively?” Rick stated almost breathy, with such enthusiasm, that his incredibly dry mouth ached.
“Oh. My. God. You officially, definitively, bona fidely, blew my ****ing mind dude. Oh, and you have Cheetoes all over your mouth” James meekly replied in a state of marijuana induced catatonic-ness. “Oh, yeah, thanks” stated Rick through his shirt, as he wiped his mouth. The boys had broken the bullshit familial nicety barrier; they were discussing a frank, familiar mien. Gone were the forced smiles and laughs, replaced by closeness that only those who share a common bloodline can have. Staring blankly at the sky, Rick lit a cigarette. Inhale. Exhale. “That one-consciousness stuff was part of the thesis that got me accepted to Amherst. Head of the department loved it.” Fiddling idly with grass, as a dumbstruck stoner is wont to do, James stated mystically “Your so right man. Our Selves are just to minuscule and trivial to have a sentience all their own. Of course, no divine creator could have imagined his. What if we…are the Universe? The Big Bang and evolution are merely means to an existence for the Universe as a creature on its own right. What if this ALL is just one big…thing?” James stated almost absently, yet with his eyes focused intently on one point of a tall conifer.
More from Davis:
http://www.goodreads.com/story/list/2160...
More from this contest: http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1750...
