Sunday, July 16, 2006

Before the penny arcade comes the natural history of the misanthropic daughter's island.

If I were to ever become an eccentric billionaire the very first thing I would do is buy an island. Preferably one in a lake. Nothing against the ocean or tropical paradise, but as a Midwesterner at heart, I just wouldn't know what to do with a salty beach and a jungle. For a short while that is appealing, paradise always is. But I'm looking for more trials and tribulations in my personal island, something with algae and aspen trees. Maple and especially oak. No, scratch that last one. Weeping Willows. Everywhere. Lining my island. Big ones. The kind that tickle the skin on your back when you try to read under them. And what a beautiful name for a tree. I simply adore any inanimate object with a name that is rich with personification. I want a forest that cries for me. I would build a cabin. Myself, of course. If I accepted help not only would I feel obligated to share my island with someone, or worse yet, someone would know where to find me on my island. The island would need to be secret as well. I would have a small sailboat that I could man myself (Yes I do know a thing or two about sailing. I can also tie a wide variety knots and am an expert at tanning on them.) My island would be wonderful for exploring. I would make small subtle dirt paths outlining and intertwining the entire place. These paths would lead to small clearings at random places that are bathed in sunlight. I would occasionally hike naked just for the sake of bathing in the sun in these small clearings. On this island I would become very brown and my feet would grow enormous calluses on them as a result from being naked so often. Not naked in the sexy way, just the warm way. I would also probably be really dirty all the time from my exploration, and being that there will be no running water, I have to bathe in the lake and the occasional storm. I will dig my own well for clean water, I'm pretty sure that I know how, or I'll figure it out when I get really thirsty. I won't have to talk to anybody, or answer any questions. I will have a second cabin that is just a library. All sorts of books. You name it. Electrical manuals, fiction, lots of fiction, history, medical texts, erotic fiction, etc. I might keep a journal. I' not sure about that one though. I will have a piano in my cabin and a wonderful bed. A nightstand too. I love nightstands. They are my favorite piece of furniture. A coffee table to eat at, because I prefer to sit on the floor when I eat. I will eat a lot of soup that I make with vegetables from my garden. I will also have a goat for milk, cheese and yogurt. There will be decrepit ruins left from other eccentric misanthropes. I will piece together their lives from whatever remains of them and write epic novels about them that I will publish under an assumed pen name and they will become international hits. Sometimes I will go there for just a few days, a weekend perhaps. Sometimes I will go there for years at a time. So, in short, someday when I start mysteriously disappearing and reappearing, you will know that I finally won the powerball.

I would also rebuild the penny arcade at the Minnesota State Fair for Eric Ziebarth.

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