Nirbaaana

Princess KayState Fair today. Violet devours a corn dog but the chocolate banana’s too cold and she won’t try the deep fried Twinkie. Dad eats clean-up and enters a diabetic hallucination that careens toward Umwelt, then a baaaad trip, man, riding Daughter’s shotgun down the big slide. Celebrity sighting at the parade–Princess Kay of the Milky Way, with whom Violet conferred in a behind-barn-doors session earlier in the week (and who directs we take in her doppelgänger in butter). Tour kids’ agribusiness-sponsored fake farm–an illusion of an illusion truer than true–with toy chickens in battery cages to be fed plastic corn (and a Cub supermarket at the exit). We avoid the barns of flu but Violet’s pink blow-up unicorn fascinates the sweet and suddenly demonically curious goats, whose Revelations all just came fucking true. Third one bounces back from its parousiatic euphoria to take a nip at Our Returned Savior in Pink. End the day at O’Gara’s on the fairgrounds playing all-out barroom Jenga. I hear another rendition of ‘Hotel Minnesota.’ I stab the cover band with my steely sticks / but I just can’t kill the beast.

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2 Responses to “Nirbaaana”

  1. Nailed it! This is exactly why the State Fair lives … and lives … and lives! The funnel cake confers immortality (if you avoid sudden death). Now, please pass the bong.

  2. rgwallace Says:

    Thanks, Andy. The spectacle of a state fair–Maurice Godelier meets Philip K Dick–induces a phantasmagoria all its own. No bong required. It’s all on a stick. 😉

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