"The Monolith Effect"...

It is said that after a near death experience (NDE) some people maintain an overall sense of nirvana and a new found appreciation for all the wonders of life around them.

In an strange way the monolith has had a similar effect on me. I have found that thinking about the monolith tempers my reaction to events that would have otherwise upset, infuriated or repulsed me.

Last Wednesday while cleaning my shed a rogue bee flew into my nose and stung me. I have never felt such excruciating pain. My nose swelled to the size of a football. As I watched the bee escape my nostril and fly into the sky my tear-blurry eyes glanced up to see the monolith looming in the background. I immediately found the bee sting to be oddly pleasurable by comparison.

Similarly, on Saturday, I was mowing the lush lawn of my front yard when a rock shot out from under the mower and lodged into my shin bone like a bullet. Blood gushed from the hole in a steady, pulsing stream. My legs buckled and I fell to the ground. I could feel myself slipping out of consciousness when I remembered my earlier experience with the bee. I looked up to see the Trickhart’s folly towering over my home. Once again my pain and rage was transferred to the monolith. I was then able to drag myself across the yard and into the house and apply a Band-Aid® to the wound.

What I am now calling “The Monolith Effect” was tested again on Sunday.

I was robbed at gunpoint in the Christown Spectrum Mall. My life flashed before my eyes in sequential order as the thug pushed the barrel of a gun into my ribs and demanded my wallet. Birth... kindergarten... the prom... my trip to New York City - It all raced through my mind. As I reached into my pocket for my wallet my thoughts snagged on the construction of the monolith. Suddenly the robbery didn’t seem all that bad.

“Would you like me to take you to my bank's ATM to withdraw cash from my account?”, I offered.

But the robber had already scurried off into the dark of night.

By the way, I just saw an advertisement with "Midway Martha" which means it is almost time for the Arizona State Fair. The fair starts on October 16th and runs through November 8th. It is the filthiest, most wretched, crime infested annual event put on by this, or any other, state. It is always teeming with screaming cotton-candy covered kids being dragged around by their chromosomally challenged parents. The rides are built from bolt-less erector sets and should require a tetanus booster and helmet to embark. Even the 4-H livestock look like they have one hoof in the glue factory and the other three on a banana peel.

It’s horrible!

But "The Monolith Effect" makes the Arizona State Fair seem strangely enticing this year.

- C Smith

How they lived (Part 2)...

Apparently the Trickhart's contractor has been busy at the monolith over the weekend. Nob is boasting that his "stairway to heaven" is almost complete (a vulgar reference referring to the steps leading to the second floor master bedroom suite).

Also posted on the “Trickhart’s Blog Of Yesterday’s News” is the above image which Nobert is blaming on rain.

We live in Arizona. It has not rained here since 1992. And even that storm is being debated since The Dave Matthews Band was flying a private jet over Phoenix at the time.

The above mess in the Trickhart's bathroom was not caused by rain. As I reported on June 19th, this is how the Trickharts lived. It is also the reason I went to the trouble of plumbing their British phone booth to use as a shower. Who other than the Trickhart's would even consider showering in a bathroom like the one pictured above.

The real reason their bathroom was such a mess is that after Nob relieves himself there is not a dry spot to be found within thirty feet. Poor Farrah was unable to use the toilet after Nob for fear of slipping off and snapping her wooden legs. She used random material from around the house as an ass gasket to form a barrier between herself and the always moist seat. Much of the material wouldn't flush so she just tossed it on the floor when she was finished.

In addition to blaming "rain" for the condition of his bathroom, Nobert made some veiled reference to me on his blog - saying, "I know what you're all thinking, but no, this isn't the result of our neighbor using our bathroom after another night of binge drinking."

• First - I don't "binge" drink. I drink all the time.
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• Second - I can hold my alcohol. Even if I had "blown chowder" all over their bathroom it would have not have been due to my drinking, it would have been due to their horrible decorating choices.
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• Third - I don't "binge" drink.

And by the way, why were the Trickharts storing Starbuck's coffee in their bathroom? Please don't tell me it is their own "special blend".

- C Smith

A "Big Apple" a day...

I have found the size of the monolith so unnerving (not to mention the constant pounding of construction) that my psychiatrist has required that I travel to New York City to acclimate myself to living near tall buildings.

My attorney assures me this intensive therapy will be covered in my lawsuit against the Trickharts.

I will return on September 16th.

- C Smith