Transcription update- 349 entries, 239 pages. Finished with Day 8. What a doozy that was! Gettin’ down to it. Now let’s get to Sedona!
06-15-18- Entry 257- Clarkdale, Arizona
Clarkdale, Arizona… Another fucking roundabout. Sorry, it’s so distracting. Three miles to Cottonwood… Another roundabout.
Gonna be startin’ into these canyons here pretty soon. We’ll get a feel. Cottonwood feels too far away. How many more roundabouts are we gonna have before we go to Sedona?
I don’t even know what the speed limit is, and I’m afraid to accelerate, ’cause there might be another roundabout. There’s a roundabout. These are fargnig annoying.
It’s like, “I’m not going to Cottonwood next year. There’s too many roundabouts.”
And they’re like, “Good. Get the fuck out of here. Get. Get!”
06-15-18- Entry 259- Cottonwood, Arizona
Glad Cottonwood was boring. I didn’t even mention… That’s how boring Cottonwood was. I didn’t even mention it.
How old am I? I’m [age deleted]. If you count the time I was in my mom’s uterus, I’m over [age deleted]. When does life begin? When you can… See? If the guy’s like…I mean they’re kinda shootin’ themselves in the foot. ‘They’re shootin’ themselves in the fetus.’
…most humans are not living. If you use the same logic as the people who say when you’re born, you’re alive, versus when you’re conceived, you’re alive. So, from conception to birth…then after birth. After birth is alive… If afterbirth is alive; that would be nasty.
“Save the afterbirth, it’s its own organism.” Perhaps in some species, afterbirth is its own organism, and that’s pretty cool and disgusting.
We are between Cottonwood and Sedona, in the intermediary valley between the Mingus Mountains and the those mountains. Those mountains are…me no know.
06-15-18- Entry 260- Entering Sedona, Arizona
We’re gettin’ into red rock country, Arizona style. The canyons. Not gonna be able to really tell until we get in there. The ones on the right look pretty badass… Where’s this road taking us? I wanna know… Scenic byways in, and up, and around this bitch… I’m so classy.
We’re in the shit right now. This is the final stretch. This is go get ’em time. Ooh, there’s some canyons. What’s in the canyons that are lookin’ badass?
Alright, I get it…now… The canyons looked as though they were eating the sky… These are the ones.
06-15-18- Entry 261- Sedona, Arizona
I’m actually gettin’ a little nervous here… This is the climax!
This is the climax… Everything’s been leading, just as in Opposable, everything’s leading to this. And there it is. God, this is fucking it!
06-15-18- Entry 263- Sedona, Arizona
I’m gonna be stayin’ here tonight and tomorrow. I figure this is the climax, and just absorb it. Observe as much as possible.
So I took a little nap…and went out, and did Devil’s bridge hike.
It was a two mile walk to the trailhead, and then about a mile to Devil’s Bridge, which was fabulous… You see these things in travelogues, and then you actually go visit them…
I did some self portraits, and everything, and then I did something really, really stupid…
Yeah, but I’m still here to tell about it…tomorrow! Thanks for taggin’ along.
Until next time, don’t bother me. I’m anticipating the climax.
Kirk E. Hammond loves science fiction, cats, baseball, and words like emulsified, rapscallion, and nincompoop.
Growing up in the ‘80s, he was scarred by badass sci fi movies; Re-Animator, The Evil Dead, The Thing, Robocop, Aliens, Mad Max2: The Road Warrior, and The Return of the Living Dead, just to name a few. The more gore and camp, the better.
Authors he wishes he could hold a candle to include David Wong (Jason Pargin), Chuck Palahniuk, Chuck Wendig, Frank Herbert, H.P. Lovecraft, Philip K. Dick, Christopher Moore, and J.R.R. Tolkien. He likes to think what he writes is funny, but I’d put his ability to write comedy right down there with Ayn Rand and Christopher Nolan.
He’s a naughty boy who needs to be punished. Every twelve years, he changes careers; from biotech dish-pig, to high school science tyrant, to creator, publisher, and purveyor of lies. The main reason he writes is to give his friends (all imaginary) something to do.
And his writing has no deeper meaning. It’s just action, and gore, and drugs, and magnificent scenery, and witty, snarky banter. In fact, he told me, “There’s nothing more depressing than a moral.”
He was born, raised, and lives in Colorado. He does not ski and smokes pot for research purposes only.
The universe planted many ideas in my mind. I pass them off as my own, but know they're stolen. My ideas gain traction, grow, and consume me. I become my ideas. The universe implants the idea of me in my brain. I am stolen.