Graphic Stimulation (06)

Graphic Stimulation (6)Graphic by Walee

An unusual dental appointment.

“I can’t find it.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Your tongue. I need to make sure it’s out of the way.”

“Ummm, let’s see…right now I think it’s somewhere around Playboy’s January centerfold.”

“Ok, I see it now. Wow, look at that! You mind if I make a copy?”

“Go ahead and take that one. I’m done with it anyway. Oh…and while you’re at it, could you do me a favor and stick in a few pages from that National Geographic I saw in the waiting room?”

“Sure. Which ones do you want?”

“I especially like that mouth-watering article I saw on harvesting mushrooms. I think it was somewhere in Wonderland. Or maybe it was Oz?”

“Humm…I hope you don’t mind my asking, but have you seen a neurologist lately? I’ve heard that they strongly recommend replacing all brain pages left over from childhood, and it sounds like you really need to get your map layer updated…”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll look into it…but right now I’m trying to save up enough to get my new subscription to Sports Illustrated installed. Apparently there’s a space problem, and they may have to lengthen my face if I want to include the Swimsuit edition. Which is okay with me, but I’m not sure how my girlfriend is going to like it.”

“I know what you mean. About a year ago my wife went through that same procedure when she decided to add a subscription to Oh! And I haven’t been able to look at her since…”

(I could go on, but I think I’m also running out of page space.)

9 comments on “Graphic Stimulation (06)

  1. I love the fragmentariness of this, actually. Reminds me of Kafka. What would Kafka have said at a dentist’s? I for my part have no idea what being at a dentist’s means. I’ve never been there – alhamdulilah for very good teeth. Can I also have an unsubscribe option for my “Shadows of the Past” journal? I am sort of fed up with paying a daily and nightly subscription fee for it. Apart from that, somehow every issue resembles the other. And I keep re-reading it every day, finding nothing in it but myself.


  2. “Can I…unsubscribe…my ‘Shadows of the Past’ journal?”

    “Why, yes, of course. Open wide…” [tug, rip, jerk, tear…and Voilà, it’s out, and into the shredder it goes.] “Anything else you’d like added or removed?”

    “I think that’ll do it for now. Thanks!”

    “No problem. Come back anytime…”


  3. “Choukran! Feels much, much better. So, what do you charge, doctor?” ;-)

    How are you William? It’s almost midnight in Sibiu. And I am sleepless again… I’m not gonna take any sleeping pills though… I’m gonna stay up and re-read Salwa al Neymi.


  4. Charge? There is none for extractions, as I entertain my evenings by reading all that I’ve removed each day. (That ‘shredder’ doesn’t work, by the way.) As for subscriptions…well, there’s no cost if they make you happy. Only if they make you sad do you pay. (And sometimes quite dearly, I’ve heard say.)

    I am fine. It’s 2:00 PM here, quiet and raining gently outside. I’m sitting here thinking of the view from your window, and sense the magic out there, in the dark air. Imagine, for a moment, how fortunate it is…to be who and where you are.

    Salwa al Neymi? I hope it’s not “The Proof of the Honey” you have in mind…as I’ve heard it stimulates ‘interests’ that could deprive you of sleep for quite some time. :)


  5. It was precisely “The Proof of the Honey” I was re-reading. Words run like velvet glows on summer skin through that book… conjures up certain other “publications” I don’t mean to end up in the shredder (but which I guess would provide you with a lot of entertainment for the following 1001 of your nights ;-) ). I have been told my entire life that I am fortunate to be what I am (I don’t know about the who part, though…). For the great majority of time I believed it. It’s just that for me it always was more of a “fortunate to be what I will be” than “what I am” affair. At least half of my life unfolds in the future. More then half of it would have been fit for the screenplay of a Mexican telenovela (drama, tears and romance included). Concerning the view: it’s snowing and rather foggy here today. This is what we call “Transyl-winter”. Snow, ice and freezing cold until mid-April. Where are you from? Do tell, please… I would love being able to envisage your nighttime window, too. I am off to church now… may another day of oblivion commence.


  6. It’s past midnight. You’re off through the snow to church, and I’m heading for bed. I’ll dream of sugar plumbs, while you’re harvesting oblivion. Maybe we should just take your copy of “Honey,” grab a towel, and go to the beach instead?

    (Isn’t dentistry fun? :)

    P.S. I’ll answer your “where’s your window” question in a comment on the ‘Sibiu, Romania’ post sometime in the afternoon (my time). Speaking of which, that was a wonderful, luminous response to the question about the people in Sibiu! And a very pleasing reminder of the two years I spent in Bad Tölz, Germany (a much smaller, but similarly picturesque town in the foothills of the Alps).


  7. I’m in for Honey + beach (OK, + towel too if we really need to :-)))) ). I’ve also spent a lot of time in Germany. Among other things I studied a semester at Marburg’s Philipps University. Marburg has one of the most frightening Protestant churches I’ve ever been in. Immensely fascinating. I am drawn to nothing as much as I am to awe, or fear. So I spent almost every one of my German evenings sitting there and feeding on my own anguish. Those were still the times… ;-)

    I hope you are dreaming sweetness… and that there are shadows of peace and angles of quiet outside your window.

    PS I LOVE dentistry. I wonder why it took me so long to discover it. Too little sweet(s), I suppose…


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