Monday, June 22, 2009
Metal and the Black Night
I've spent my time the last few days humbly, reading in the corn garden overlooking the mesas, writing, or, embarrassingly, on the Internet or working out on my host's Bowflex machine listening to metal. I remember seeing them on infomercials and I always wanted to try one out. They're pretty ingenious and fun, like a whole gym in one machine.
I got hold of a Zuni metal band I found on Myspace called Corrupted Vision that plays around the Reservation and they invited me to a house party next week down in the village. I was so excited that I could hardly sleep. So I set up my typewriter on the dining room table and started writing a fairy tale, The Warlord's Daughter, about a beautiful princess born without a womb who overthrows her father. A good father's day tale.
I tried to go to bed around one in the morning, turned out the light and everything, but Guinness the dog needed to go out to pee, so I got up, put on a pot of coffee and like a true bachelor tore into a half-baked batch of brownies the mother of the house had left me. I opened the door to let Guinness out and the black night sucked me out, even though I was shivering in my briefs. The Milky Way stunned me as if cymbals were crashing through the sky. The dust lane loomed through the heavens like a dark sword surrounded with the gossamer filaments of the Orion Arm. The moon is nearly new. Meteors sparked down the edges of the sky. Star clusters (whose light left them when Pangaea on Earth began to split) appeared to my naked eyes. Jupiter's bright disc looked to truly have girth before the points that were the stars.
As coyotes and wild packs of dogs wailed and yipped in the distant bluffs, I thought again how I truly literally cannot see my place in the universe in the city.