votw ii.13: A Future In The Past

I’m graduating university in 12 days. Put a fork in me.

You know what that means? 21 preplanned years of my life will come to an all-of-a-sudden end. From there on after, all that’s left is a giant question mark. Funny thing is, I see it as a “?” block from the Super Mario video game series, the type that you would hit over and over until it dried up. This time, however, the prize won’t be a golden coin stripped from the bloody carcass of a goomba. This time, it’s life in all its holeyness.

Symbolically, will I receive the mushroom on the left, signifying growth and the overcoming of larger obstacles, or will I get the mushroom on the right, seemingly harmless at first, but in reality, as poisonous as cake baked by a princess?

(I’m not going to delve into the anthropological connotations of the hallowed psychotropic mushroom, which, for all intents and purposes, created life as we know it.)

I really do not have any plans after the ceremony on Monday the 28th. Get a job, I suppose. Engage a girlfriend. Find happiness in wedlock. Raise Alfredeus II, Jaina, and Alfredeus, Jr. Leave my job for a better one up north. Vacation in France for a couple of weeks. Attend my brother’s third wedding. Hope my wife doesn’t find out about Layla. Take out a second mortgage. Berate my eldest for dropping out of medical school. Ignore the throbbing in the prostate area. Drive a hovercar. Attend the a-ha reunion tour. Vote for the 54th president, Kevin Schwarzenegger. Watch the first manned spacecraft to Jupiter. Become the beneficiary of universal health care. Divorce my wife in favor of a 20-year-old from Prague. Cradle my fourth grandson and teach him everything about two-dimensional video game metaphors. Celebrate the victory of the Iraq War. Cry a little after the death of the last porn star. Die at the ripe old age of 104 of too much happiness.

Come to think of it, I don’t know what the hell I’m sweating about. That life sounds like a pretty good gig, and I didn’t even mention my manor, my Academy Award, my affair with an extraterrestrial femanoid, or my face on the People of the Year issue of TIME Magazine.

You hear that, world? Alfred is comin’ for ya! Either join the parade or get stomped! It’s go time, Chicken Little!

The future looks awfully sexy for The Red Deus Alf.

So in the spirit of looking forward to new things (or at least, pretending to do so), I invite you to watch “Early Morning,” a song about shotguns and hills. Maybe the future does look bleak after all…

And now, I must go write 25 pages in the next couple of hours on Timothy Leary, due tomorrow. Oh, joy.

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~ by Alfredeus on April 16, 2008.

4 Responses to “votw ii.13: A Future In The Past”

  1. i don’t remember bloody goomba carcasses, i might’ve been playing the wrong game. though i did come across a perfectly formed red, spotted mushroom in the middle of a field-turned-parking-lot at what used to be sound advice amphitheatre.
    as to life, i recommend a book called generation x. and anything by kurt vonnegut. he makes the worst things inappropriately amusing. kinda like when ken kesey and the merry pranksters went to visit tim leary.
    (i’m hannah’s friend, btw. nice to e-meet you.)

  2. Anablogue! Anablogue! Woot!

  3. Oh, and I enjoyed your version of the future veru much.

  4. Yes, but as we all know, the Merry Pranksters were woefully disappointed when they made their pilgrimage to Leary’s Millbrook. Tim was off on a three-day LSD sabbatical, and folks like Richard Alpert didn’t really appreciate the Pranksters’ rambunctious nature. As for Vonnegut, I’ve only read Slaughterhouse Five. And, really, what’s more significant than the bombing of Dresden and tesseracting through the wrinkles in time? So it goes.

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