affame_le_geant_a_magic_carpet_raised_on_legs fyn gula "there are no insignificant days or lives. any day in anyone's life contains most of what we need to know about all of life, very much the way the blueprint for an entire organism is imprinted on every strand of its DNA." ~micheal cunningham, referencing virginia woolf the film, vague and unsettling at first, took concrete form like the shifting grains of shape and multi-color in a child's kaleidoscope, and the first visible, focused image, undeniably, was that of a bed. initially appearing in the cozy confines of a century old pennsylvania farmhouse, its frame resting on plank wood floors, surrounded by antique wallpaper, the scene shifted, although the bed, with the presence of entwined lovers privately obscured underneath an amish quilt, remained the same. there it was amongst the lush, wildflower growth of a summer field immersed in a splendid array of black-eyed susans, coneflower, and ironweed, and then as cayris recognized the passionate duet as dennis and jamie browne, the scene transposed to a verdant forest of norway pines with the bed now nestled amongst trillium, jack-in-the-pulpits, and delicate maidenhair ferns, with the whisper of a stream serenade. poj, somewhat distracted by the insistent growling of his stomach watched as the scene shifted once more to the celebrity couple going at it undercover along the shoreline of a lonely california beach, waves crashing behind them, surf rushing up past the bedposts, kelp spiraling. keggi strained to see jamie's nakedness but was frustrated in his refusal. the visceral soundscape that the music of sigur ros created, also served to heighten the slow motion, dream-like quality of the footage, inspiring cayris to reflect, question, and validate his own existence and how it related to where frafkuel dispiacere was leading them. "this is the origin of everyone," cayris mused to himself. "he is showing us the beginning, where it all starts." and he was right. the frafkuel, fully aware that cayris was struggling beween right and wrong, between selfishness and selflessness, intended to strip the soul of cayris down to its fundamental and elementary components, commencing at conception, to where every individual, planted as a seed in the bed of fertility unites with a viable egg and the two give up their seperate identities and become something new. this, the first evidence of the delicately balanced art of giving and receiving. yet, what lesson dispiacere was disclosing went even further beyond just the act of the conceiving of our physical bodies. it also intimately involved the intrinsic notion that our place of entrance into the world, that is, the bed, is not only the portal that our flesh and blood arrives from its unseen arena of eternity, but it is where the spirit and soul through the absence of the body in dream make their advent. it is here that a voice-over narrarion of the film commenced, the frafkuel's words loud and clear above the elegiac strains of bow-played guitar, violin, cello and the tinkling of a xylophone. "i think there is something that gets edited in the language of dreams and sex; in both it seems as if one meets with a certain point where there can be no explanation without embarrassment." frafkuel dispiacere said, basing his words on the influence of his research on the poet and visionary, jenny boully. "i had someone once tell me that the joy of bringing someone to sexual ecstasy was that during the ecstatic state, the soul leaves the body and temporarily goes to some sort of heaven, and it is the job of the lover to take care of the body (which has become just that: all body) while the soul is away. what the body does during this time is unscripted, its so called editor being on-leave; what we get is raw and extraordinary. dreaming, i think then, would be the antithesis of the heightened sexual state; in dreaming, the body drifts off, and one is all spirit. what the spirit experiences outside its body is also unscripted and of course, we never question the logic of our dreams or actions taken within our dreams until we return to our bodies and wake." cayris, his attention rapt, turned to the frafkuel as the celebrated couple, now animated, slept soundly in each others arms, the bed resting periously at the edge of an earth floating in a sky of stars, each one a winged messenger poised to fly. "i think the bed is a magic carpet raised on legs, a vessel into another world." cayris suddenly said, although the frafkuel did not view it as an interruption, in fact, his ensuing response seemed to encourage further discourse. " the language of 'the bed' is something still very much kept undercover, pardon the pun, especially by proina," dispiacere added. "and one must, as barthes says, establish one's own thinking, understanding, and writing for these places seldom visited. proina would want one to view the bed as two things. first, a place of lust, where loveless sex is performed that is one-sided and pregnancy is either accepted with tragic consequence or ultimately ends in abortion. secondly, a place where sleep is riddled by insomnia and dreams are reduced to meaningless brain seizures forgotten upon waking. 'fuck that,' is what boffden the beardless gnome feels. while 'in bed' the decisions we make out of fear or wonder, the cries we utter out of pain or pleasure are, and are not our own. we own and do not own ourselves in these places novel and familiar, so we proceed as both companions and strangers, unselfishly providing an entrance for another." just then, the waitress arrived along side the teenage-rabbit busboy. he was bearing the small load of their impeccably prepared appetizer. cayris barely noticed them, but poj and keggi both ignored the film and salivated, licking their chops with abandon. the enticing smells of ratatouille nicoise filling the quaint room with overpowering succulency. the frafkuel pressed a paint-worn button on the remote-like contraption and the film paused, while the sound respectfully faded to mute. cayris then turned to find the waitress delicately removing three empty plates and setting them one by one in front of the eager diners. and then she reached for the sumptious food itself, piled in copious amount and steaming. there was a silver serving spoon buried in the mound. for a moment she held it in front of her and with a proud grin announced the contents. poj and keggi squirmed in their seats barely able to contain the anticipation that threatened to release drool to the tabletop. and then looking over at frafkuel dispiacere, she seemed to wait for something. when he gave what now poj and keggi along with cayris deemed to be a barely perceptible nod of permission, she released the bowl from her grip at it fell, urged on by the indisputable law of gravity, and crashed to the pineboard floor, where it smashed into shards and the food was reduced to an unbelievable and unfortunately inedible disaster. 030330 what's it to you? who go blather from