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The Interview…

pink piglet

“Excuse me,” said the interviewer.  “Do you have a second or two?”

“I have a couple of minutes,” said the piglet, “but no more than that, why?”

“I have some questions,” he said, opening his notebook.  “I’m doing research and wanted to know if, as a little piggy, you’ve ever been to market.”

“What’s a market?”

“That would be a no, then,” he said.  “Have you ever stayed home?”

“I move around with the other pigs, so anywhere they are is home.”

“Have you ever had roast beef?”

“I’m leaving,” squealed the piggy.  “You’re a sick man.”

“Just two more.  Please.”

“I don’t like you and I’m a sweet piggy, so that says a lot about you.”

“Have you ever had none.”

“None what?”

“Have you ever gone whee, whee, whee, whee, all the way home?”

“MOM!  THIS MAN IS SCARING ME,” cried the piggy.

His mother, a lovely and gigantic sow, came to his side.

“Why are you talking to my piglet?”

“I just had a few questions.  I didn’t mean to upset him.”

“Do you like bacon?” she grunted.


“How about pork chops?” she asked, nosing her piglet behind her.

“No?” he said, slowly.

“How about ham?”

“Look, I have to go so…”

He turned, but it was far too late.  He was already surrounded by wild pigs, in all shapes and sizes, and while piggies are nice to people who don’t slaughter and eat them, they aren’t so nice to those who do.

His body was never found, of course, and the sweet piglet was told never to talk to strangers again.  It was a lesson he learned very well.  His only question was, “Why do they think it’s okay to kill us, and they aren’t considered bad, but it’s not okay when we kill them and they say that we are?”

“Because they’re hypocrites, my darling.  Then she had to explain what that meant, but all in all, the piglet got the gist of is.

Photo:  Forest Simon

The Interview…

Sheep, Livestock, Head, Winter Wool

“Is it true that when you were a lamb, you knew a girl named Mary?”

“Yes,” said the sheep.  “I knew a girl named Mary.”

“Did you follow her to school each day?” asked the interviewer.

“She was terrible with directions.  If I hadn’t been there, she would have gotten lost and then I would have had to go and find her.  It wasn’t worth it, so I just walked her to school.  That way I had the rest of the day to graze and hang out with my friends.”

“But wasn’t it against the rules for a lamb to be at the school?”

“Who makes up the rules?” asked the sheep.

“I’m not sure.  The School Board, I would imagine.”

“Sheep don’t recognize the School Board.”

“I see.”

“Sheep have their own rules.”

“It’s been said that you made the children laugh and cry,” said the interviewer, tapping his pen on the tablet he was holding.

“Seeing a sheep isn’t a big deal around here.  We’re everywhere.  The children, were probably laughing and crying at Mary.  She dances a lot.”


“Yes. It’s where you move your feet and arms to a beat.  Dancing.  You do know what dancing is, don’t you?”

“She danced?”

“She was a free spirit.”

“So you weren’t responsible for making the children laugh and cry.”

“I don’t see how.  I just dropped her off and went back to the meadow.”

“I’ve noticed that your fleece isn’t as white as snow.”

“Depends on the light.”

“Where is Mary now?”

“She just graduated from college.”

“Do you still see her?”

“Of course.  We’re friends, why wouldn’t I see her?”

“You seem to be a nice sheep,” said the interviewer, putting away his pen.

“How many sheep do you know?”

“Uh,” he said, thoughtfully. “You’re the only one, actually.”

“Then you have nothing to compare me to.”

“That’s true, but you seem very nice.”

“Do you eat lamb chops?”

“I have to go,” he said, backing up.

“How about veal?”

The interviewer started running.

“Is your jacket made of wool?” asked another sheep, who was suddenly blocking his path.

The interviewer tried to get around the sheep, who was standing in his way, but more and more sheep were suddenly surrounding him.

In the end, no one heard him screaming.  That’s how it is in the country.  Lots of open spaces and places to dump a body.

After their work was finished, the flock went on their merry way and spent the day chatting and sunning themselves.  They were free roaming sheep, after all.  As for humans, Mary was the only one who knew where they roamed.





The interview…

woman in black and white long sleeve dress

“And you are?” asked the interviewer.

“The Winter Lady.  My mother is the Winter Queen.  Who did you think I was?”

“Uh, I wasn’t sure.”

“Who do I look like?”

“A beautiful snow fairy.”

“Thanks,” she said, fluffing her hair.  “Close enough.”

“What is it that you do?”


“Yes.  What’s your job description?”

“I’m the WINTER LADY.  That’s is my job description.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to understand.  You aren’t part of my world.”

“I see.”

“Do you?” she asked.

“No.  Not really.  I don’t know where Fairy is.”

“You aren’t supposed to know where Fairy is.”

“Why are you here, instead of there?”

“I’m going to an art opening.”


“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing, why?” asked the interviewer, frowning.

“How can you be surprised that I’m going to an art opening?”

The interviewer shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I guess I didn’t think fairies ever left fairy.”


“Yes.  Seriously.  Which gallery and who’s the artist?”

“Gallery 57 and I’m the artist.”

“No kidding.”

“Go away.”

“Excuse me?”


“No?” said the interviewer.

“I won’t excuse you and I want you to GO AWAY, or I’ll freezes the blood in your veins.”

“Can you do that?”


“Do you want to get a coffee or something?”



“Sure, okay,” said the Winter Lady.

“Did you design your outfit?” asked the interviewer, as they walked along.


“I love it.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I come to fairy.”


“Why not?”

“You’ll end up being someone’s pet.”

“Is that a bad thing?”


“Can I come to the gallery opening?”

“I don’t see why not.  It’s open to everyone.”


“Just don’t eat or drink anything, don’t accept any gifts, or make any promises.”

“Will I die if I do?”

“Something like that.”

“Good to know.”

“Don’t dance with anyone, or look them in the eyes.  You know what,” said the Winter Lady.


“You can’t come to the opening.”


“Too dangerous.”

“I can’t believe how beautiful you are.”

“All fairies are beautiful, so it’s no big deal.”

“It is to me.”

“Only because you aren’t a fairy.”

“I guess.”

“Let’s get coffee here,” said the Winter Lady.

They walked in and sat down.

“Babe,” said the owner.

“Tom,” said the Winter Lady.  “How have you been?”

“Good.  How about you?”

“Excellent,” she said.

“Who’s your friend?”

“Some person who interviews people for a living.”

Tom nodded, took their order and left.

“Um, do you come here often?”

“It’s owned by Fairy.”

“So the people in here are fairies?”

The Winter Lady looked around.  “Some of them,” she said.

“Can I drink my drink?”

“Yes.  Tom knows you’re human.”


She laughed.  “Trust me.”

“What time is the opening?”

The Winter Lady looked at her watch.  “I should be there now.  I gotta go.  Take your drink and come on.”

“But it’s in a glass cup.”

“Don’t care.  Move!” she said, dragging her to the door.  “Don’t go back in there.”

“But, I didn’t actually ask you any questions.”

The Winter Lady laughed and faded from sight.



Photo:  Ben Scott




Can I ask you a few questions…The Interview.

man in red tank top wearing sunglasses

“My name?”

“Yes,” asked the reporter.  “What’s your name?”

“They call me Sky Boy.”


“Like, it’s my name, that’s why.”

“Sky Boy is your actual name?”

“You hard of hearing or something?”

“No.  Sorry.  It’s just an unusual name, that’s all,” said the reporter.

“You know about Charlie Bukowski?”

“The poet? Yes.  I’ve read some of his stuff.”

“He was a man of the streets.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, don’t you?”

“No.  Not really.  I think he was able to choose his lifestyle, rather than be forced to live it.”

“You didn’t like him?”

“Are you wearing designer shades?”

“Yeah. You got a problem with that, man?”

“No.  They look great,” said the reporter.  “How many packs a day do you smoke?”

“Enough.  Why?”

“Curious, that’s all.”

“Why are you talking to me?”

“You look as if you’ve had different life experiences than I have,” said the reporter,  “I just thought, if you felt like it, maybe you could educate me.”

“You want me to teach you what it’s like to be like me,” laughed the man.  “A pretty boy like you?”

“No.  I just want to know how you feel about life in general.”

“I feel as if most people are rode hard and put away wet.  That’s how I feel.   I got a degree from MIT, you know.  We probably aren’t as different as you think.”

“Seriously?  MIT?”

The man took a long drag and nodded.  “They wanted me to teach there.”

“Did you teach there?”

“No.  It was the sixties, man.  They were shooting kids on college campuses.  We were trying to stop an unjust war.”

“Did you do drugs?”

“You know Tim Leary?”

“I’ve read about him.”

“We were friends.”

“Well, I suppose that answers that.”

“I suppose it does.  Leary and Ram Dass died…all the good ones are gone, man.  All the ones who went to other places and saw what was there.  Gone.  They were the first ones to travel, man.  The pathfinders.”

“A lot of people suffer because they know people like them.  I guess there’s a cost to be paid for everything.”

“That’s the truth.  No free lunches, man.   None at all.”

“How have you spent your life?”

“You mean the part that’s already gone?” he chuckled.

The reporter laughed.  “Yes, that part.”

“I spent my life with wine, women and song, but not necessarily in that order.  Unless you’re born rich, or you are born rich but cut off from the money, your options are sometimes…shall we say, limited.  I wanted more out of life than a desk, a sweater vest, and a nest egg.  I wanted to live while I was young enough to enjoy it, not just make money to pass it on to a bunch of kids I might have had.  You know what I mean?  Kids trap you, man.  You have to worry about the damage you do to them because you want to be free and not be part of the machine.  Like Leary, like some of the best of them.  Look what they did to their offspring.  I never wanted to do that.  I saw it happening, man.  It was bad.  Even I could see that.”

“Do you think all of you stopped the war in Viet Nam?”

“Dam straight, Skippy.  We did it.  Got beaten bloody with billy clubs and fists, dragged down the street, locked up, but we brought those guys home.”

“Have you enjoy your life?”

“Hell yes,” he coughed.

“Was it worth it?”

“Worth what?”

“Worth not having a house, two, point five children, a yard and a dog.”

“Except for the dog, I never wanted those things.  Had them growing up.  Saw what it was like.  Turned me off, man.”


“It’s like a prison, man.  You spend your life taking care of things.”

“Look at Abbie Hoffman, Jerry Rubin, all the guys who eventually became part of the machine,” said the reporter.

“Sold out, man.”

“Maybe they just got tired of fighting and not getting anywhere.”

“Then the machine wins,” he said, taking another long drag.  “The machine wins.”

“Do you think you can ever beat the machine?”

“That’s open to interpretation, I guess.  Rather subjective, wouldn’t you say?  Like what does the Tao say, man?  Always go to the Tao.”

“Again, the cost is high, for living outside the brainwashing and conditioning of a culture.”

“That’s the only way they can keep people in line, man.  Punishment has to be severe and swift.  Have to constantly make examples of those who won’t toe the line.  What would happen if everyone wanted to be happy and free?  What would the vultures do then?  Who would need them?”

“You don’t think we should have some kind of government?”

He laughed. “You think that’s what we have?”

“What do you think it is.”

“Our owners, man.  Our masters.”

“Can I buy you dinner?”

“Naw, I’m good.  Going to volunteer at the animal shelter.  I love animals, man, but with my lifestyle, I can’t really have any.  Wouldn’t be fair to them.”

“It was a pleasure meeting you.  Thank you,” said the reporter.

“Stay safe, man.”

“You too.  Take care and I’ll drop by again, if that’s okay with you.”

“You can try, but I never know where I’ll be.”

“I’ll try n find you,” he said, walking away.

“You’ll only be able to do that if I want to be found,” he whispered.  “Ya gotta know how to disappear, man.   Gotta know how to become invisible.”


Photo:  Daniele Choicci


You might want to watch this video…really, watch it.

George Orwell…The Interview

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Orwell.”

“Why?  What’s pleasurable about it?”

“You’re a star.  Everyone loves your book, 1984,”

“What good did it do?  No one seems to have learned anything from reading it?”


“No one pays any attention to the truth, they just keep going, blind as bats and dumb as whatever you believe to be the dumbest thing on earth.  How can you say that people love my book when they are LIVING it and don’t even realize it?  1984 was not a fairy tale, it was a warning…a wake up call.”

“Yes, I realize that.”


“And what?”

“And WHAT did you do to stop the insanity that is leading to the same outcome?”

“Nothing, just like everyone else.”


“Is there anything you would like to say to the American Public?”

“Yes.  I TOLD YOU SO.”


Raving Beauty…


“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.  I told you, I don’t know anyone named Harry Potter.”

“What about Hedwig?”

“What’s a Hedwig?”

“Hedwig is an owl.”

“Oh, so naturally I should know him, or her, right?  That’s like me telling you that I know someone in Australia, or America, and expecting you know that person, as well.”

“I just thought….”

“I don’t know any owl named Hedwig.  I do know an owl named Marcy but she’s never mentioned anyone named Hedwig.”

“Thanks.  Just thought I’d ask.  How about Hogwarts?”

“Are you making fun of a sick hog?”

“Listen, it was nice taking with you.”

“I don’t think so.”

“By the way, what’s your name?”

“Raving Beauty, what’s yours?”



“I’ll say goodbye now.”

“Good idea.”




“Why are you so tall?”

“Why are you so short?”


“We’re tall because we love the sun and like to be as close to it as possible, that’s why we live where we do.”

“Wow, I never thought of that.”

“Really?  Why did you think we were tall?”

“I don’t know.  Genetics?”

“Well, sure, genetics plays a part but there’s also the sun thing.”

“I’m not sure why humans are short.  I think you’re the tallest ones around.”

“Maybe we just like the sun more than you do.   The leaves higher up in the trees sometimes be the most delicious.”

“We like the sun and we eat lettuce.”

“We LOVE lettuce.”

“I know, that’s why I brought a crate of it.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re peaceful animals.”

“You’re not.”

“No, we’re not.”


“It’s our nature, I guess.”

“It’s you nature to kill everything?”

“Seems like it.”

“That’s too bad.”

“I know.”

“Why don’t you stop doing that?”

“Humans love conflict, war, violence and death.”


“No idea.”

“Do you like it?”

“No. I don’t.”

“But you’re human.”

“Yes, but I don’t belong to any institutions, or groups, who hate everyone and want to be right.   I’m also not in charge. I don’t have enough power to stop those who start wars.  I don’t have enough money, or resources, to change anything.  I can’t stop everyday violence either.”

“Are those excuses?”

“Yes, but they are true excuses.”

“So you’re just going to destroy the planet and everything on it?”

“Yes.  I think that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

“If  humans weren’t here this would be a nice place to live.”

“I know.”

“It’s getting late.  Thanks again for the lettuce.”

“See ya.”

“I hope not.”





“People believe that you are good luck.  There are statues in your image and you’re written about in many books.  You are part of Feng Shui and people incorporate you into their lives.”


“Yes, really.”

“Why would I want to bring good luck to humans?”

“That’s just what people believe.”

“That’s really funny, since everyone is trying to get rid of you. Don’t tell any other beings about this  luck thing, it will just make them question our loyalty.

“Okay, but I thought everyone knew about it.”

“How could they know about it.  It’s not real, you make up.”


“Look, I’m a fish.  But if humans believe something is lucky, that’s a very bad thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“If they believe we can bring them luck they start to breed us, control us, grow us, sell us and they sell us to people who don’t know how to care for us.  We become a product, a commodity, a thing, an asset, a status symbol,  because we are believed to bring luck.”

“I see you’re point.”

“No one wants to be noticed by you guys.  Being noticed means captivity, interbreeding, suffering and death.  I’m a fish.  That’s it.”


“Think about it.  How could I POSSIBLY bring anyone luck.  I’M A FISH.  Get it?  A FISH.   I’m not a lucky fish, if I was a LUCKY fish humans wouldn’t know I existed.  So, that’s proof that I’m not lucky at all.”

“I see your point.”

“Why isn’t a gold fish lucky?  Oh, yeah, because you kill them by the millions.  Lucky for you, not lucky for the fish.  See what I mean? Nothing humans want is ever lucky because you are a terrible species.”

“I’m really sorry about that.”

“Sure you are.”

“No, seriously.  I am.”

“Your species plays with all the other beings on earth.  You cross breed, interbreed, you trap, cage and modify natural beings.  You make up lies about what you do and tell people luck will come your way if you only have one of whatever it is you’re trying to sell.  Look what you’ve done to dogs.  You never once think about what you’re doing to any of US.  We are NEVER LUCKY when we’re around you.  If you’re around we’re usually sick and dying.”

“Would you like some bread?”


“Yes.  I brought a loaf of whole wheat, in case you were hungry.”

“Look, you know that Koi are Carp, right?”

“No.  I didn’t know that.”

“Well we are.  We are bottom feeders.  We love algae.”

“I didn’t know that either.”

“Do me a favor.”


“Tell people there’s nothing lucky about us.  They people we are carp, bottom feeders, and tell them to leave us alone.”

“I will.  Thanks for talking with me.  I’ll take the bread with me.”

“Good idea.”




“Uh, hi.”


“You have big, sharp, teeth.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“How do you feel about life in general?”

“It’s good.  I swim, sun myself and sometimes I eat humans who are stupid enough to come near, or into the water.  They taste like chicken, by the way (snickers).”


“The rest of the animals think so.  Even the chicken laugh.”

“But you eat all of them as well.”

“It’s my nature.   But not many animals eat humans, whereas humans kill and eat almost everyone else, that’s why I’m kind of popular among the others.”

“You’re big.”

“Bigger than you (another snicker).  I’m fast too, in case you’re interested.”

“How do you feel about humans.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think of them?”


“Yes, really.”

“If I could I would bite, or eat, all of you so that the rest of us could live in peace.”

“I see.”

“The thing is, it’s hard for me to travel, so I kind of just stay here and wait for you to come to me.”

“That’s a problem.”

“A big one.”

“Must be frustrating.”

“You have no idea.  You guys have taken over the world and we just have a small place to live.  Pretty soon you’ll have paved the entire planet and that will be that.”

“I hope you’re wrong.”

“What are you doing to stop it from happening?”


“Come closer.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I thought we were friends.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Now my feelings are hurt.  Come closer and I’ll feel better.”

“Thanks for the interview.”

“Is that what this was?”


“You asked all the wrong questions.”

“I did?”

“You did.  Just stand there and I’ll come to you.”

“I don’t think so.”


“The way I taste?”

“That too.”

“Have a nice day.”

“You too.”



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