the tale of kenny who dances:
kenny was born in gainesville, fl on a steamy hot morning in the summer of 1949. he sweated continuously throughout his childhood, on through his 1968 deployment to vietnam as a young GI. the horrors that kenny witnessed during his ill-fated tour in that ill-fated war are too vast and unimaginable to be addressed here, but suffice to say they would have been enough to make colonel kurtz shutter.
upon returning to the US, private bowman grew his hair out and attempted to take part in the revelrous and drug infused anti-war movement. however, he was unable to escape the horrendous memories of all that he had seen, done, and had done to him. his inability to escape these recollections inevitably led to a volatile personal life, including two divorces, five separate stints in drug rehab, and a two and a half year period in the mid eighties when he lived as transexual and came very close to having sexual reassignment surgery.
it was in the early nineties that research revealed that MDMA, or ecstasy, can assist those coping with post traumatic stress. but how could this treatment to be administered regularly to an individual leading as erratic of a life as kenny's? the doctors at the veteran's administration came up with an innovative idea: they would install a pump in private bowman's chest, which could release ecstasy directly into his bloodstream. but how to trigger the release of the drug? surely this polysubstance/masturbation addict could not be trusted to determine the frequency of his dosages. a radical solution was arrived at. kenny's pump would be programmed to release ecstasy whenever his heart rate rose above 100 beats per minute. this inducement to aerobic activity would serve the dual purpose of encouraging kenny to exercise and nip his weight problem in the bud.
thus arose the kenny whose dancing prowess we've all come to know and love. the kenny who dances with his eyes closed, in a spastic groove, like he's the only person on the dance floor. the kenny who does this for hours and hours, oblivious to the gallons of sweat that pour out of him. when he is dancing, and only when he is dancing, kenny is able to forget the horror and tragedy of his past.
keep on dancing, kenny. keep on dancing.
upon returning to the US, private bowman grew his hair out and attempted to take part in the revelrous and drug infused anti-war movement. however, he was unable to escape the horrendous memories of all that he had seen, done, and had done to him. his inability to escape these recollections inevitably led to a volatile personal life, including two divorces, five separate stints in drug rehab, and a two and a half year period in the mid eighties when he lived as transexual and came very close to having sexual reassignment surgery.
it was in the early nineties that research revealed that MDMA, or ecstasy, can assist those coping with post traumatic stress. but how could this treatment to be administered regularly to an individual leading as erratic of a life as kenny's? the doctors at the veteran's administration came up with an innovative idea: they would install a pump in private bowman's chest, which could release ecstasy directly into his bloodstream. but how to trigger the release of the drug? surely this polysubstance/masturbation addict could not be trusted to determine the frequency of his dosages. a radical solution was arrived at. kenny's pump would be programmed to release ecstasy whenever his heart rate rose above 100 beats per minute. this inducement to aerobic activity would serve the dual purpose of encouraging kenny to exercise and nip his weight problem in the bud.
thus arose the kenny whose dancing prowess we've all come to know and love. the kenny who dances with his eyes closed, in a spastic groove, like he's the only person on the dance floor. the kenny who does this for hours and hours, oblivious to the gallons of sweat that pour out of him. when he is dancing, and only when he is dancing, kenny is able to forget the horror and tragedy of his past.
keep on dancing, kenny. keep on dancing.
posted by Huevos McGringo at
7:04 PM
3 Comments:
Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!
You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.
You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.
And you may not find any
you'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town.
It's opener there
in the wide open air.
Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.
And when things start to happen,
don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too.
OH!
THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!
You'll be on your way up!
You'll be seeing great sights!
You'll join the high fliers
who soar to high heights.
You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed.
You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.
Except when you don' t
Because, sometimes, you won't.
I'm sorry to say so
but, sadly, it's true
and Hang-ups
can happen to you.
You can get all hung up
in a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.
You'll be left in a Lurch.
You'll come down from the Lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you'll be in a Slump.
And when you're in a Slump,
you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.
You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both you elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?
And IF you go in, should you turn left or right...
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.
You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...
...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.
Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a sting of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.
NO!
That's not for you!
Somehow you'll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You'll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing.
With banner flip-flapping,
once more you'll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you're that kind of a guy!
Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored. there are games to be won.
And the magical things you can do with that ball
will make you the winning-est winner of all.
Fame! You'll be famous as famous can be,
with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.
Except when they don't.
Because, sometimes, they won't.
I'm afraid that some times
you'll play lonely games too.
Games you can't win
'cause you'll play against you.
All Alone!
Whether you like it or not,
Alone will be something
you'll be quite a lot.
And when you're alone, there's a very good chance
you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won't want to go on.
But on you will go
though the weather be foul
On you will go
though your enemies prowl
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.
On and on you will hike
and I know you'll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.
You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life's
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.
And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3 / 4 percent guaranteed.)
KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!
So...
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!
can somebody tell this doucebag "Ahab" not to post on our blog anymore?
dickface.
Ahab is Kenny.
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