Welcome to my humble dwelling place of profundity
-- actually quite surprised, for I've noticed a penchant for the more opulent
houses of famous rap stars and basketball players on the show. I don't
judge, just sayin' less might be more. As you can see, we are in an isolated
10' x 15' self-built wooden cabin just a few minutes from a wonderful frozen
pond. Over here is my bed, and if you turn around, the fireplace and two
chairs. Okay, looks like we're done. Thank you for visiting.
Oh but I kid, I know you want to see my means
of transportation. Full of horse power and extra storage space, I like
to think of my mind as a Cadillac Escalade. As for my custom home theatre,
the only film I need is nature's light frolicking upon my cornea. That
may seem like an overdramatic utterance, but does not dim light through
branches pulse ever so evocatively?
I don't have any DVDs, sorry. The ant-like seconds
of mere existence are better suited for reading. Here's my copy of The
Bhagavad Gita, wherein the resignation of all worldly desires is espoused.
A good book from India, where they also published this great illustrated
book called The Kama Sutra. (Alas, I live alone.) I will confess
that my one remaining worldly desire is acorns. I won't fully get into
it -- this being a half-hour show -- but let's just say I really, really
love acorns. You can read all about it in my new book Walden; or, Life
in the Woods, available at your local bookseller (self-promotion is
not a "worldly desire" by the way; it pays off the Park Ranger for matters
I shan't disclose herein).
I fear this episode will be somewhat boring. I
wish I had more stuff to show you guys.
There's a caribou corpse I spotted a few days
ago about three miles yonder, and while it's "quite a sight," it's not
the pleasant kind.
Um, here are some nails and a shanty board, and
some beard shavings in the corner.
I had a tree stump that bore a striking resemblance
to my wife, but I burned it last week for heat. She would have wanted it
Which brings me to why I left society in the first
place. The grand necessity of life is to keep warm. These so-called scientists
of our generation will use the word "homeostasis," but I like to think
of it as spooning.
The months preceding my self-exile were filled
with domestic trials of the most prosaic sort: she was stuck with the dishes,
I with the mortgage (or, "dead pledge," if one considers the Latin and
Germanic roots, respectively). Who needs symbolism when you have etymology?
This perhaps is an oblique way of saying that I have replaced my wife's
stately thermal rear with this sack of wheat, from which I also make my
They say you are what you eat. I hump what I eat.
So what's that make me?
Ah yes, the ladder leading to the loft? The query
of your gaze is a vector of soft and curious ignorance. That is where I
store my acorn collection. I won't take you up there; nothing to see but
a lot of acorns. A somewhat personal place for me, honestly.
Have you ever chewed an acorn until it was soft
and malleable? And have you ever formed an effigy of yourself using these
soft and malleable acorns? And just one last question: have you ever cheated
on your sack of wheat with this effigy made of soft and malleable acorns?
The answer, of course, is it's really quite stunning
what a noble man with modest means and a lot of time can do when completely
nuts. Speaking of which, in a few minutes, my soft and malleable acorn
effigy and the warm rump of my wheat-sack wife and I have scheduled an
afternoon threesome. These sessions of passionate victual intercourse are
one of the many unexpected pleasures of long-standing solitude. You may
or may not wish to document it. Regardless, thank you again for visiting.