Tiny, tinny Trevor making Pigasus proud...

Finished Tom Baker's The Boy who kicked pigs, last night. This novel, er, novella, er---- whatever you call a 120-pg book that's 60 pages of illustrations--- is wonderfully masterful in its devilish satire. And, though its illustrations have a childlike, Tim Burton-esque innocence to them, this book (story) is definitely NOT for children.

The book IS, however, for the sick and twisted, for the malicious-natured, for the brow-beaten and down-trodden. It is most definitely for anyone who has ever had an uncontrollable urge to make your disgust with humanity FELT as much as heard.

The plot centers around 13-yr-old Robert and his obsession with kicking his sister's tiny tin piggy bank, Trevor. Every chance he gets, Robert sends the little tin pig flying through the room, into a t.v. set and eventually out the front window--- it is this last episode that makes Robert realize that kicking pigs makes him very happy, because it makes bystanders laugh (those involved in the car wreck, not-so-much, but they don't count).

Kicking Trevor isn't enough anymore...now he must make other pigs fly. Pork chops, sausages, even an unfortunate bacon butty--- the bacon butty debacle results in a most disastrous and embarrassing scene, which leads Robert down a completely different and much more treacherous path.....where the unthinkable happens.

Wonderfully malicious, irreverently beautiful, fantastically twisted, in a word-- PERFECT..... all about a boy who loved to kick pigs, loved to hate people and who wished, more than anything, that he had been born a rat.....

ad astra per alia porci..... in the end Robert really has gone, To the stars on the wings of a pig.....

That'll do pig, that'll do....

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A to Z reflections....

Another A to Z challenge comes to an end--- another collection of posts and poetry have been written, another deep breath of relief is released. For my fellow bloggers that survived as well, it's another 'challenge-completed' notch carved into the writing desk. I've come to enjoy my yearly foray into the world of all things alphabetical. This was my third year, though it was only the second year I had a workable theme (which made the challenge substantially easier than the first year I attempted this challenge.) And, though my first year was difficult because my focus was so scattered, I found this year was more difficult because I lost the enthusiasm that came with the first year excitement----excitement which helped me plug along until the end of the challenge. Year 3 was a success in the sense that I completed the challenge, though, this was the year that almost wasn't---- Somewhere about a third of the way through the challenge, I seriously considered

A million lives, beneath a single sky.....

Though our feet leave different prints,our tongues sound different words, there's a mirrored rhythm in the beating of our hearts. Though born in different worlds, our eyes sharpened 'neath different moons, there's an unspoken truth in the warmth of our touch. We may walk in different strides and dream different dreams, we may speak in different voices, maybe swim in different streams. It's plain to see, when dark night falls, as all the stars shine through, that underneath it all, there's no difference 'tween me and you.

Bitter Honey

Weaving dreams of beguiling gold, a future's price for happiness. What secrets do you, determined, hold? asks the summer wind's soft caress. A guarded name, a hidden hope. Spinning wheels clutching time, grasping straw that falls away, What dreams may come, we soon may find, won't recall at end of day. A cherished life, a memory lost.

From the Inkwell, From the Vein.....

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