Mystical artist Tyrus Walker begins working feverishly on his latest creation,
His crowning achievement,
The defining product of his singular vision,
And culmination of his life to date.
He licks his fingers and consults the yellow pages.
Soon, two enormous weather balloons are tied down in his front yard!
Next, trembling with the beauty of it, Tyrus begins constructing a colossal snow and ice replica of his manhood.
It towers!
It blocks the noonday sun as it stretches toward the Heavens!
Mystical artist Tyrus Walker gasps as he gazes upon the finished work, then weeps openly in overwhelmed triumph.
"What the fuck is that?" ask his neighbors.
An artist, especially a genius, is never understood.
Tyrus installs floodlights, so that his masterwork may be seen twenty-four hours a day, from as far away as Portland!
In fact, it is probably visible from outer space.
Neighborhood children draw smiley faces on the weather balloons, and run away laughing as Tyrus hurries outside to scatter them.
Woe!
Their markers have pierced the weather balloons' delicate outer layers, and they slowly begin to go lopsided in wrinkly ruin.
The smiles turn to straight lines and then turn down as the balloons edges droop, to become frowns.
The eyes appear Asian, but upside down.
This was not mystical artist Tyrus Walker's vision at all!
But that is not the worst of it.
The sun comes out, like a jealous god, and as the temperature of the air rises, Tyrus's immense tower begins to list to one side!
The right side.
Why?
Soon, it is looking bowed and sad, like a depressed elephant.
It loses height.
It loses girth.
It loses majesty.
Mystical artist Tyrus Walker is distraught!
In all his years of creating similar works, this is an unprecedented disaster.
"This has never happened before!" he insists in a shocked voice.
Neighborhood wives laugh, and the sound wounds Tyrus!
He is about to rebuke them, when his magnificent sculpture falls in half, like a dying slushee.
It is too much.
Midgets and small boys strut around him, making jokes at Tyrus Walker's expense.
He dies a broken man, his ultimate achievement reduced to nothing.
Someone puts up a latticework arbor on the site.
It is modest, but beautiful, arching gracefully with a statue of the Virgin standing within it.
Each year, red roses bloom,
Their appearance and fragrance simple yet matchless in all the neighborhood.
The neighborhood wives knew better!
ReplyDeleteLook upon my works, ye mighty, and despair!
ReplyDeleteMy sides are really painful right now, but I am trying to remain upright long enough to applaud this anti-towering masterpiece.
I am thinking of the satellite pictures being pored over by China and North Korea, aghast at what must be either a new US weapons program with cutting edge technology or the world's largest tribute to Viagra...
Between you and Hedgewick, laughing one's ass off is assured on this site!!!!!!!! Too freaking funny for words! I especially love the thought of the Koreans poring over maps of the "latest weapon".......
ReplyDeleteOMG *gasping for air* Can't breathe... LMAO That was fantastic!
ReplyDelete*Applause*
ReplyDeletedo come see da post today, Sis
Aloha from Honolulu,
Comfort Spiral
><}}(°>
oh the folly of Tyrus.
ReplyDeletePoor Tyrus, just the latest victim of global warming.
ReplyDeleteYou did it. I had to get up and get He-weasel and tell him to DVR his show. Then I had to read him this hilariously wonderful post. Lily had to come and see what all the fuss was about. Then we had to laugh. And then Lily had to have a treat.
ReplyDeleteThanks you, lovely, for shaking up our evening.
You ARE Brilliant and hilarious and sad. How do you mange it?
p.s. I must go and Google "Depressed elephant". I don't think I would know the difference.;-)
xox
from manhood to roses... your mind is quite amazing, shay!
ReplyDeleteHow is it that you have lived, are living, an ordinary life when you are so extraordinary?
ReplyDeleteThis is a gift to my brain. What more can I say?
It's like a fun dream - I especially like the neighbors' reaction. :)
ReplyDeleteArtists. They think their creations are immortal. As most men wish their johnsons would tower as tall as their egos. (Most of those errant fellas list either to the left or right -- de shadows know why.) And the world survives the rainbow of these maker's wills with all that is mortal and frail and so easily disappears. A fairy tale for adults, rich with narrative details and packing a potency greater than the usual suspect.. - Brendan
ReplyDeleteTyrus "Peter Johnson" Walker, right? I think I knew him in Boulder.
ReplyDeletexo
Stop it! I'm sick and laughing aloud like this only makes me cough hard and gives me a headache. But I suppose it's worth it! This is a clever masterpiece! Never, ever equate manhood and art!
ReplyDelete