MY LAST SOUTHERN LEGITIMACY STATEMENT: I was born in the 19th century, 1953, ha ha . But, seriously, the 19th century was right there behind the date in the faces and voices of all four of my grandparents for me to look at and listen to and tottle after hoping to be picked up by it when I was just a sprout shedding my diaper as I ran through the tobacco patch with my still teenaged mother trailing me. That’s where they came from, and as much as they carried me then, I carry them now. I was born at Portsmouth in Ohio in a 20th century hospital, for sure, and came home to my granddad Williams’s farm on Schultz Creek just off route 7 near Maloneton, Kentucky where we lived in a two room shack in the backyard of my grandparents farm and house with a pumphandle well for water in the front of us and an outhouse further out in the back with one foot for sure in the 20th and 19th century all at once’st.
And I cannot remember if that’s where we were when my mother taught me to read, but I’m pretty damned certain that’s where we were when she she told me about the dish running away with the spoon, and the cow jumping over the moon, and, in any case, I haven’t gotten over it yet, not even in this, the time I was bound for, the 21st century. — And that’s the, sort of, short of it, original seed of how I became “The Absurdilachian” and ended up becoming a published author in the pages of The Dead Mule of School of Southern Literature, one of the wishes come true of my modest publishing career, a little cow who jumped over a fence and a roof and an economic class or two.
Since then Val, who is the brain and the heart behind The Mule has done me more good turns than I deserved, for sure, seeing to it that my first chapbook was reviewed in The Mule , and personally writing a recommendation for a fellowship which I had no hope of ever getting, and being too damned nice even to wave it away when she surely knew it was a lot of fuss and bother for nothing. And now The fabulous Mule is to be no more? Well, all I can say is, I hope Val doesn’t mind still getting mail from me, now and again, because I’m going to miss sending it her way, and miss the Mule and the very good idea and operation of it. I feel as if we two, she and I, were friends though we’ve never physically met, friends over a distance— you know how that is sometimes— ? Anyway:
The 19th, 20th, 21st century— all three of the me’s I carry, feel like a little bit of the original Eden where they hold the weddings of dishes and spoons in a hall where my folks and grandfolks all sit together, waiting for me to come and sit with them where time no longer exists, and maybe we don’t any longer either, is being closed until further notice, until repairs are made in the great “maybe it doesn’t even exist except in make believe and beautiful dreams” over yonder. — And I reckon we’ll all just have to wait now and find out if it does or does not exist, outside of children’s literature, now that the Mule is closing . But, until then:
Thank you, Val, and Thank you Mule—
100% Last Southern Legitimacy Statement Ever, sincerely,
You will be both missed. Not even kidding a little bit— but, for now—
a little something for you to carry with you where’ere ye go:
“Cow”. “Moon”. “Dish”. “Spoon”.
XO, i’m sure, your fren’,
David Earl Williams
*hey y’all, the Dead Mule will still be here. Just not updated monthly after 30 years/360+ issues. I’m tired. Folks like our Absurdilachian friend David Earl will surely surface in new posts, sporadic Mule posts. I’ll let you know when. — Val
________________________________________________________
“BURN EVERYTHING DOWN EXCEPT THE FIRE!”,
FROM THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF BOB, TOO:
“HI, I’M BOB, TOO, AND— I WUZ THERE, N
SO WUZ YOUSE— ? CHAPTER 13
… FUST – There wuz the 1960s, and, um… I wuz there,
I think… n
They were selling air conditioned cigarettes and Oldsmobile
sex education… I see-m to re-call…
But, that wuz then… and NOW they’re selling :
“nothing-has-ever-changed-nor-will” — 2 for a dollar!… &
since— I am selling “Bob, Too” now-a-daze… now that I’m all
growed up… n ready for market (& butchering!)— pig!Pig!PIG!)
… I re-call… I was in Baltimer once’st:
They were having a “We’re So Crazy About O. J. That We Don’t
Give A Good or a Bad God-
Damned If He Cut A Pretty Blonde WHITE Woman’s Head
Almost
Clean Off And Some Innocent Bystander Guy, Too –
Verdict Day Celebration”
And they were dancing in the streets of Baltimer…
Sales were so through the roof off of that group unity sales-pitch!
… And then the Dow Jones jumped over the moon
and ran away with all of the spoons
Which wuz tough on all of the Coke snorters…
so they switched to straws
And then ever’body started in on the oxy’s
n forgot near everything… they were so stoned and illiterate
Which is how we learned, “Nothing-Has-Ever-Changed… ”,
according to — Bob, Too U. : “A University For Fools”— & the
“Never Argue With The Customer Sales Force Motivational Manual” —
“Closing The Deal”— “TIP # 69”: the
“LICK-AND-BLOW METHOD!”
_____________———________——-____________
{ALL FROM—- “Fragments & Excerpts FROM THE LITTLE RECTANGULAR BLUE BOOK OF BOB, TOO! ( Or, as “Bob, TOO” was known BEFORE His “elevation”: a.k.a., Derwood D’Woody, Jr.— “The Absurdilachian,
Prophet of Profits! ( and pestilences— ! n fools golds— !)” — “THE PSEUDO-PSEUDO-PSEUDO! VERSES”… among other apocryphal odds n bits… lost
sermons found, holy sidewalk graffitis, gnostic words on fire, & etc. etc…. not to be confused with Chairman Mao’s little RED book!… hillbilly dada anti-dada poetry for sure as hell rollin’ in the aisles, barkin’ at the moon, SCREECHIN’ IN P.H.D.-ESE dada-dogmatic times… writ by OL’ BOB HIs-SELF… }
I’D LIKE…
SAYS THE ACADEMY AWARDS
“… I’d like to seize this opportunity to do a land acknowledgment
for the Pretendians— for, surely, this is their cultural landscape that
we are all now sat down upon.
… And, in addition, I’d like to take this opportuntiy to salute all those
living on Group Think Lands where, no one is illegal, but many, many,
well, really, any critical reasoners are unwelcome
— Available Now! In— ANTI-ICE, GENDER, HAMAS, and BLM Flavors
<<< Freedom Rapist Fan Club Flag Wavers
and apologists
line up here for awards, prizes, and
film and book contracts<<<
>>> to the authoritarian faux left, please!”
