FINDING CALVIN PART VII -1 - PRESERVATIVES FOR PRESSERVATIONS

FINDING CALVIN PART VII -1 - PRESERVATIVES FOR PRESSERVATIONS

Maybe he sought to stave the moment

Maybe he saw the empty glass

Regardless he overthrown it

Into the ocean underhand

Calvin’s eyes refocused

And so did Lamington’s

Another gatorade chosen

He would toss it just as fast

Lamington: Calvin, catch!

This one slightly closer

Whipping past Calvin’s face

Before further bespoken

Calvin rushes his saving Grace

But with two fingers aptly chosen

No further would Calvin race

Stunted, stilted, stunned and stoic

He collapses onto Burmese teak

[…]

After a sudden clapping

Calvin slowly comes to

With the onsetting of buttercream

Under sheets of warm hues--

Not too hot and not too cold

Lamington: I owe you an apology, Calvin. With the need to entertain, I didn’t thoroughly consider your mindstate. I‘m sorry.

With silhouettes upsetting

Eyes shifted from view

But with Lamington’s abetting

Calvin quickly comes to

Lamington: No need to be shy, Calvin. All they see is a black mirror. You could have a tug and they wouldn’t be the wiser. Box in box, too. You could scream as you do it. Nothing will disturb you in here except peace itself

Suddenly a servant enters the room
And hands Lamington a Gatorade

The same color

The same tune--

Not too hot not too cold

Lamington: Calvin, Catch!

(This time Calvin catches it.)

Lamington: Very good...Apparently, two days after you disappeared you were found in Lord Mortmain’s garden, slumped up on a chair, pre-packaged. A golden unicorn’d Jew trapped in a shipping container with two dozen Muslims. I, too, saw the humor in it. Needless to say, he thought you were a gift from me. You were not. 

Whether dismal or dismay

It could not be read on Calvin’s face

Propped up on the bed backing

He sipped his lemon lime Gatorade

Lamington: Once I realized it was you, I couldn’t interfere. Not really...

An abbreviated continuance

Too abruptly abated

As Lamington chews on a word 

Reconsidering consideration

Well, you must be tired. I’ll leave you to regenerate. When you’re ready there’s an outfit on the chair. It’s a beautiful night. They’ll be fireworks later. But no rush. No one will bother you. Just act normal, as the Dutch say. Oh, if you need anything, ask Zupedo. He’ll be around.

(Mr. Lamington would exit with his bodyguard and servant in step)

Emerging from the sheets

He finds the floor just the same

Overstepping the underlain

Through wafting scented buttercream

It was as walking on brioche dough

Layering the tightest strung baby wool

Beneath the finest silk

One could ever feel undertoe--

Not too hot not too cold

He donned the silk-knit kimono

A valerian light-absorbing piece

And velvet embroidered slippers

“AF” accompanying beast and heraldry

He enters the anteroom

Another private luxury

Looking for Zupedo

But no Zupedo could be seen

He corners the narrow T

And upon a solo furniture piece

Sat plattered powdered donuts

Supplanting the buttercream

Calvin gives a double take

Then an over-the-shouder glance

As he pinches the capestoned treat

Then sniffs the sweetness from his hand

Though he was overcame

He was not to be overtook

Through the nearby gilded frame

Shower, toilet, and unknown nooks

Unclenching weighted bowls

Assisted by pneumatic sucking

He found images nearby foul

Oversighting the understudied

To some they would be just flowers

But long he peered the underneath

Perhaps it was the corners countered

Perhaps it was the line that weaved each sheet

He found it no mere toilet paper

To him it was geomantic tapestry

For in very corner sheet favored

Lied the Masonic bedevilery

Everything seemed estranged

The pier mirrored glass with its doubling

The deep crevices engraved

The liquid soap’s gliding viscosity

It was entirely too viscous 

It was entirely too slippery 

Why the hint of apple cinnamon 

Why the nearby donut delivery

Denying again the donut tray

Exiting upon the side and its gallery

Understepping an overhang 

He came upon the crescenting open sea

But it was a deaf-toned orchestry

Drowned out by a loud thwacking

The grunts

The broken English 

The acerbic scream

And above all 

The nascent cascading laughing 

Every word was steel weighed

Anchored above

Beyond mapping

All would inflate

All with disdain

And all would sound rather happy

(Thwack)

Calvin would pass the sliding frames 

Of the black mirrored reflecting pane

Funneling the stainless steeled cap railing

Discovering a midnight matinee

Worthy of luxury

Stars

Underlings

And its pre-planning 

(Thwack)

When reaching the deck lounge

A hotel's floor count

The underhangings 

A pyramidical layering

With FLIR scouts

No limo tender's route unfound

Before, after, under, or in between

(Thwack)

But with Calvin there was no crowd 

Just remnants of swollen cocks besprout 

Accomplished seamen long past centuries

(Thwack)

Glory absent to their renown

Just layabouts on sofas strewn about

Youngins sitting between steel and sea breeze

(Thwack)

For it was stars on lesser screens

That they dryly watched with lesser means

With headphones watching The very Talented Mr. Ripley

(Thwack)

As Calvin's lured in spellbound

How Matt strums heartstrings unfound

In loftiest shoes 

With the softest of fair feet

(Thwack)

But enters Jude Law with graceless crown

Oh how a cocksman can be so proud

A big asshole instead of a big Dickie

(Thwack)

But with Matt Damon

There'd be a crowd

At least peeping Calvins unannounced

How he weaves fantasies within all realities

(Thwack)

How he razzle dazzles the silver mount

For party poopers and layabouts 

While they straddle their unearned dignity

(Thwack)

But from the muted and unique 

The mystery was now catching breeze

Silk ripples hugging every musclely lump

(Thwack)

Valerian seeded amongst cream of wheat

Backdropping with coldest feet

In ons land doe maar gewoon

(Thwack)

But Calvin would remain unseen 

Despite near ancestral assiduosity

Ho-hummed 

Headphones on 

And feet propped up

(Thwack)

He grabs a full red shaker bottle

Pops the top to find alcohol

Then Exfiltrates Matt's magic weaved web 

(Thwack) 

Overlooking the underseen

A ferry circle fluorescented green

Lit by limo tenders

And crescenting anchored beasts

(Thwack)

Atop the venerable and seaworthy

Afar silhouettes soon re-galleried

Forming bulwarks for the mirage across sea

(Thwack)

Four lighthouses commissioning

Or as salt pillars lit from beneath 

A re-shaping architraved not decreed

(Thwack)

A bursting forth 

A chaotic scene

A frenzy of fireflies

Embodying

The ramified beast

A bovine

With wooded boundaries

Lamington: enjoying the show? 

Calvin:...

Lamington: They're starlings. Dipped in a florescent chemical activated by heat...when the heat becomes too much, they navigate a way out, or die trying. But we make it easy for them. Yes, some realities just present themselves. You don't even know they exist. Then poof, it's like you've entered OZ...no we're not in Kansas anymore.

(A man walks by and says something alien, perhaps German to Mr. Lamington. Mr Lamington replies in kind)

Lamington:

I remember seeing my first C-130 Hercules up close as a little boy. Not quite the behemoth that many become accustomed to, but at the time it was quite the beast, at least for me...

I wonder what they think of us, way up there. We must look like a green eyed monster emerging from the sea. In reality these bubbles are for different types of beasts....no, not even Frogmen can penetrate our circle...You were never in the military were you? (*)

Calvin peering across the sea with his 1000-yard stare

Lamington: we're a team, Calvin. I hope you know that...

Lamington stares intently into Calvin's periphery

As Calvin stares into the burning effigy 

Lamington: they're in the trees, aren't they?

Mr. Lamington orbits his drink

Swilling the last of its remains 

Dropping his pizza container in the gurgling sea

He double pats the railing 

As the conversation was lacking

And gives sound advice before he makes his leave

Lamington: try the pizza. It's remarkable.

Calvin glared the rising oxygen

The sub-marined and the light given

Is it a team for the rising monolith

He peers the hands-free container thing

Perhaps an offering to the ones beneath

Or at least some of the many caught beneath its precarious drift

Maybe there's cake on another sea 

Perhaps even coffee or some tea

But for them it's pizza crumbs that sink

Perhaps crustaceans filled with cheese 

Maybe some sausage or jelly

But they'll have to wait or they can rise if they can swim

(Thwack)

Amid the steel lined backdropping

Grunts 

Broken English

And acerbic screams

Their overspoken his underhearing--

Something about Prince Adam

And his win-win strategy

(Thwack)

Discreetly

Calvin heads for more drink

Passing synchronized swivels

And the fluorescented hyper beamed

Subjacent 

Still the stilled and the riveting

(Thwack)

Now Freddie was catching frame

Being a big Tommy optically 

But his underhand was duly overseen

Statuesque

He was overhit 

Overtime

With stroke sync

Effortless

Matt Damon blinds

The bigger screen

(Thwack)

Overextending the undermine

It was a dotting of the i

Unoccupied

The return was well-deserved 

Overhead yet underserved

Out of touch 

Beneath his worth

"Game, Djokovic. Djokovic leads, six games to five."

Calvin would make his way

Under vampiric robotic gaze

Crowd jeering 

A Nolen smile

And violin display 

Then came fireworks

Sparklers hissing

Childish mirth

Overhead

But beneath

helipad security 

And a sudden sliding door
And laughing teens stumbling forth
Emerging from a tiki lounge
Subterranean
The EDM played

Finally outside his narrow T

And his buttercream fermented suite

With Roman candle 

A child extended beyond his girth

Over steel capped railing

Far from the horseshoe'd 

And florscented green

With disdain he'd light the sea

If he could

Beyond birds of prey  

And shadowed yachts

He surveyed

Without chaperone 

He wondered if he should 

But he would let it rest

As he headed to bed 

Buzzing from the tropical 

And the Croissan'wich that he took

"Time—Sinner to serve."

In his room she would sit
Slim, broad shoulders and Nordic skin
Under honeydew
It seemed the pig woman from the woods?

--Without a word he put down his drink
And the Croissan'wich he would leave
Then clapped twice for cinnamon
And closed the door

OMG! Does Calvin eat the pizza!

Is that really the pig woman from the dingle!?--Wasn't she just an illusion?-- Perhaps a prophecy from the unknown? If she wasn't just a mirage and she is real, what is she doing on the yacht?-- Is she a gift from the hosts?--And, unbeknownst to herself, is she the prophecy coming to fruition?  Maybe she is just an illusion of Calvin's or a surface-level distortion of someone that is real?--Maybe even a coincidental doppelganger--A one of the many sent to allay his flesh: to satisfy his man meat.

Why was there a platter of powdered donuts isolated atop a lone furniture piece right outside the bathroom entrance?--Was it a kind consideration for Calvin?--Are powdered donuts a favorite delicacy among the elite?--or does Mr Lamington know Calvin is a pastry pervert?  What explanation could he ever give for his donut dowry?  Or perhaps Lamington is the pastry pervert? Perhaps Lamington was setting the stage with his window comment for the donut temptation?--Or maybe for the pig woman?--Perhaps the powdered donuts were to set the mood? But perhaps it's deeper than a mere fetish?--Perhaps Calvin's seaman is special? And If Calvin's semen is special, does the pig woman have a device to collect his seaman?  Regardless, now more than ever Calvin is in dire need of some ketchup--and not powdered donuts
...
Why not iced, glazed or frosting!?--
Why powdered?...hmm.
And why buttercream?--hmm.

The idea was to emphasize all that serves within the entry, given that the setting is a super yacht gathering. Hence the title.

The original vision ending the last entry-- I'se In Town, Honey-- was to have the elites watch the paranormal activity live on screen captured by a series of drone operators like Ben atop each yacht helipad competing for their framing of the most evocative content happening throughout the Dingle.
...
However I decided to focus on Calvin's psychological malformation. Though that is not to say that what he experienced or his understanding of it is false.

In some instances, the circling back may seem obvious, but would you think it obvious if it were not in retrospect? Because there's so much gestation time between entries, it may seem foreseeable.  But did you see it before the moment came? Prb not--if only because of the breadth of the narrative.
In fact, if one were watching this transpire in real time, the circling back would contribute to the drama's surrealism, perhaps an inevitability given the content covered. I mean, how surreal is a pastierre pervert sexing cakes? I have never seen that before. 

Was Calvin underhearing ($) a movie featured on one of the upper decks?--Or perhaps just a conversation of a movie, perhaps Masters of The Universe?--if so, was the movie the impromptu spark that led to the alphabet soup configuration? Has Calvin's ingenuitousness ($) rubbed off on Mr. Lamington!? Perhaps.  And perhaps, unbeknownst to Calvin, he has become a court jester: a muse worth amusing.

Eventually, I would like to rewrite some of Calvin as less retarded--though it is excellent cover for a spy: for they can go where most cannot!

Apart from the ever-useful tranq dart scenario, there's also a scenario where he gets up deliriously and attempts to pee off the side of the yacht and he's choked by one of the guards or loses consciousness but is caught before he falls backwards or forwards.  But I like the Gatorade scene as it's certainly more entertaining to visualize.

From the names of his servants--Zumba, Zucresta, and Zupedo--to the tiki hut and private Island, there seems to be a tropical fascination surrounding Mr. Lamington.
...
What is going on beyond the tiki hut entrance under the sea?

What's up with the movie?--Are they really Matt Damon fans?--Or is there
something else going on?

The Muslim focus creates an empathetic bridge transforming an Ariosteelic ($)tradition of cruelty and sport into one of justice...and sport.  Boys will be boys, after all.  But I decided to leave out dialogue relating to the point, for I feel that so many movies moralize to the detriment of the drama(#).  To me it's about imbuing an impression and facilitating the future reveals. Besides, given the cultural climate, I'm sure the viewer can discern without explanation why Muslims were predominantly present for the hunt. And at this stage of Calvin's journey I don't think he would have a sympathetic word for his fellow containermates, given his own trauma and possible malignity of spirit--at least not at this point in his psychological trudge. And we know from Sarah in Berriers Believed that Mr. Lamington is beyond preaching and belaboring without purpose.

Are the survivors of the hunt hiding in the trees?--Is Mr. Lamington referring to something else?

Is there really a third party mucking about?

Whose yacht are they on?
Seems fairly large. 

All due respect to the late great Philip Seymour Hoffman--the ever-charming, Jude Law, and, of course, to the perennially virile Matt Damon.

$ - #NewWords!

# - in fact, I would like to eventually revisit Transblend and imbed implication,  trimming the dialogue between Lamington, Wellington, and Calvin.  I would also like to make Calvin less socially retarded, and trim Sarah's corrective dialogue regarding his retardation in Berriers Believed #firstiterations...
Trimming for intrigue will take precedence upon revistation, if necessary.  Still, I think as a whole it works so far.  I mean art is life, right?--And the story does revolve  around a character that talks to, and has  sex with cakes (or is it cake? C.f. fish, deer, lamb).

Was Calvin rescued during a maritime movie matinee?--And did his ego confuse his "dishy" (c.f. Berriers Believed) offering as the main course and not just an amuse-bouche or Lagniappe?

Further did his ego confuse what was on screen as part of his understood reality?

Three times Calvin has been without trousers during this drama.  Though it has not been established that he was wearing trousers under his wool mantle cloak, tradition would agree that he was with trousers.

I think the charm of this series will be the various endings possible based on the ramifications of the last or second to last entry, as I have a tree a-growin' and not all branches are created equal.  if Calvin were ever to come to life, it would be interesting to see what the life giver would choose as his ramulus

Initially, I was going to produce two versions: one normal and one bizarre.  But I found that if I just present the perceived in a certain light, I can accommodate both possibilities without changing a word; that is, until I must ramify. All information presented until then has to be consistent with all three segue ending possibilities.  So, I have a rule of thumb: when in doubt leave it out. I can always revisit, insert, and color coordinate additional information with the selected segue ending it connects to.

To pass time perhaps I included more extravagancy than necessary, but to deliver the impression I needed to imbue such diversion, given that Calvin is not in a talkative mood...

Did the donut not pass the pinch test?--Or was Calvin exhibiting moral rectitude?

Why didn’t Calvin or Mr. Lamington mention the cloak, rope, or necklace?

The pinch test?--Smelling his sweetened dusty donutted fingers?--Calvin is one weird dude. But we must remember from Sarah in Berrers Believed that we should use the word Interesting and not weird. Using weird only demonstrates our lack of understanding.

So is he and lamington on the same page now?--on the same team?--Team Normal?--Or perhaps they'll both be off-kilter, perhaps on Team Interesting.

OMG.  Slippery viscosity? Do the rich have access to a soap-lube hybrid!? #SoJelly!

Is Mr. Lamington so assured of Cavin’s state of mind that he feels no qualms about letting him wander at will?--Are there measures in place ensuring that is a non issue?--Was that what the gatorade throwing was about?--A test to assess Calvin’s complaince with the moment?

Why didn't Calvin or Mr. Lamington mention the cloak, rope, or necklace?

It seems that Calvin is once again struggling with his donut obsession.

It's no surprise; in times of stress, we flee to pleasure.

That was quite the tennis rally...
One for the highlight reel for sure!

Rhyming does make for interesting discoveries. However imparting the visuals and impression that I want to imbue with in the entry can be difficult at times with the restrictions. But I find it hard to write a line that is not amazing. 

Because of the impression that I wanted to park and the rhymes that I need to be inspired I did leave out the fact that it's not necessarily Mr lamington's yacht. Calvin recognizes that it is a different yacht than the one he initially boarded, which was also not necessarily Mr lamington's yacht.  I also left out that the Shaker bottles would be meticulously placed, prepared next to Pizza, baby turtle shells with Tunis($), and Tunis cake.  I want to emphasize the practical with the Shaker bottles--and maybe even the donuts 🤔

The burning effigy is lit from somewhere amid the dark sea

I wanted it to be as a lights in the darkness that all of a suddenly come to be. For the image is of a giant bovine effigy being burned at the feet. The fire rises up and forces the birds to flight.  

Did Mr. Lamington proffer an olive branch for consideration?--did Calvin accept it?--if so is Calvin healed now? Perhaps in the end all Calvin needed was a Croissan'wich (egg ham croissant sandwich) 

In defense of some of the dialogue, we must remember that Calvin did ride the small bus, and whether that is a significant part of his origin story,
Including all that which it could imply--like whether or not he did or did not learn algebra, as its recurrence within the narrative suggests --remains to be seen.

Was Calvin shamed into inadequacy?--A prince forced to ground? And why!?--Did he think he was a spy when he was younger?--so to shame him his father put him on the most conspicuous and degrading form of transportation: a small bus: the donkey of our time.
Further, did this shaming ironically force the delusion beneath the substrate, where Calvin would grow fiction as fact--And if so, who is Calvin spying for!?
...
Now, you might be saying, "too soon for the reveal!" But this is just context, and the spy subtext is easily discernible for what's transpired.  Besides, there's a fork coming up and it has at least three prongs.
(C.f. 4:1 the sweet, the sour, the degradation)

But given the pictures painted, and the dark surreality, omitting the humorous collaborations is a feasible approach upon revisitation, if there is a specific ending segue favored that would benefit from such. But that will have to be for a future me to decide, but for now I will follow inspiration and cater to the three endings I have in mind.  And whether these are sincere explorations with his conversational counterparts, part and parcel of a larger troll, or whimsical fancies by troll masters, we shall see...
Kimono works well with this approach, but initially I thought Cabana suit

The image is...
-The tennis ball
-The fleet and barge movie screen
-the escort light lit sea brine green
- And Calvin's jaundice eye'd perspective
-and Djokavic with his love of haute valerian

OH.... the previous entry's image was...
- The reflection of the Lovecraftian mirage in Calvin's eye
- A ram's eye
- Calvin floating on the tributary

This pig woman seems accomodating. Perhaps I too can have a pig woman 🥺
#WhatAboutMe

For the optional dialogue:
Bell curve?--Was Mr lamington implying that Calvin is a common?--or least common enough given his American origin?

Note: this dialogue is on the back burner for a determiner not revealed yet.  It should be part of at least one of the three segue endings of part 7. 

"As Herr Turboschnäll noted,
Perspectives are oft inflated, and purposefully so, intentions far castrated, for intentions not nearly as grown.  Extremes are useful to make the otherwise untolerable more tolerable than foe...I was never going to chip the babies, Calvin.  You must know that.  But just because you'll never use algebra, doesn't mean that you should not learn how.  We're on the same team, Calvin."

It's a shifting of the Overton window, creating The New normal