The first-ever Firefly Music Festival descended upon the Dover International Speedway from July 20th-22nd  with a lineup boasting acts with profiles so high, one was forced to contemplate whether both artists and fans could simultaneously fit within the state’s modest borders (one in, one out?).  Every hotel within 30 miles advertises “No Vacancies- Welcome Firefly!” Telltale campground sprawls around the gates; weekend homes for the braver souls.

July 19th 2008


Mom,

 I know you must have been worried sick about me. It’s okay, I’m safe and it’s not your fault.

 I’m not running from you-— I love.

It’s because of Larry.

I’m safe here— it’s a commune for young people like myself to live away from the normal rules of society. It’s like, sooo liberating.

I’m only trying to make Larry jealous.

That’ll teach him for fucking that Starbucks barista whilst I was having my appendectomy.

Has he called?

Love

Alex


 

July 28th 2008

Mom,

Relax. This isn’t some crazy cult like you keeping making out. You are NOT a terrible mother. I told you, this isn’t about you. This is about me and Larry.

Is he still with that coffee slinging slut? I hope she gets a yeast infection.

Anyway, even if Number 1 did try and ‘brainwash me into being his sex slave’ there’s no way it’d work. I don’t fall for mind games like that.

And he’s got like six wives or something— what would he want with me?

Still love you, but not coming home. So happy here!

Alex

P.S Thanx for the care package!


 

August 2nd 2008

Mom,

No, I don’t have ‘confidence issues.’ And if I did it certainly wouldn’t be because of what Larry did with a glorified waitress in the back of his uncle’s shitty SUV.

I know I’m a beautiful young woman, that wasn’t my point— I wasn’t subtly asking for you to pay for a nose job either. My point was the guy has six wives… even Larry would be satisfied with that!

And who says I’d be interested in him anyway? Just because he’s in a position of power doesn’t stop him from looking kind of creepy. He’s all scrawny with like, this barely there beard and totally gross dirty hair. He’s no Johnny Depp— I don’t care what the group mantras say about him; he’s totally not my type.

I know you’re just worried about me, but really, everything is just great here.

Love

Alex


 

September 5th 2008

Mom,

Great news! Guess who just got ascended to the second rung of the outer sanctum?!

And this from the girl voted ‘Most Likely to Be a Homemaker’ in High School. Ha! If only they could see me now!

I bet that stupid coffee girl will never do better than branch manager— and she’ll only get there by sleeping her way to the top.

I never want to leave here— it’s just so great. I never thought I’d feel this enlightened. I was spiritually awakened last night by Number 14— if things work out you could be a Grandma soon! Exciting, right?

All Power to the Celestial Oak and his Prophets

Alex


 

September 20th 2008

Enemy of the Celestial Oak (and his many Prophets),

This is NOT a cult.

If you want to talk about cults then why don’t we talk about YOUR cult of atheism, hanging on the every word of your infallible leader Richard Dawkins and angrily reacting to those who disapprove?!

Yours is a cult of spiritual emptiness, sexual repression and material things!

How do you like the violation of YOUR ‘false truths’?!

Still no word from Larry?

Alex



 

September 29th 2008

Enemy of the Celestial Oak/Mom,

I’m sorry for the last letter.

I said a lot of things I didn’t mean to— except the bit about Number One. Really, Wow!

You might be interested to hear that since embracing the Celestial Oak with mind and body I’ve now been ascended to the inner sanctum. Things are working out great.

Next week is my ceremonial entwinement with Number 14— yes, it’s official!

I’d really love for you to come, but the Elders are very strict about allowing ‘outsiders’ into the community. We consider you to be impure and corrupting spirits— no offence! Hopefully I’ll be able to send you some photographs of the ritual…

May the acorns of understanding within you grow into mighty trees of love,

Number 34

P.S. I take back what I said about Number 1; the mantras were true. WOW!



 

October 3rd 2008

Mom,

I’m sorry you didn’t feel up to responding to my last letter.

Anyway, things are getting very busy here. On top of preparing for my ritual I’m now in charge of catering for our Christmas party— a little early if you ask me, but who am I to question our Celestial guides? Not even the Elders are permitted such impudence!

I’m mentioned in the community newsletter. I’ve included some clippings.

I hope you can be happy for me,

34


P.S. What’s Larry up to these days? Did he get into college like he wanted?




 

 

 

There’s something you should know about me. I just turned 30. That, and I’ve always had a secret desire to write a self-help book. Not something like Chicken Soup for The Soul, something EXACTLY like Chicken Soup for The Soul. Except that I’d want to fill it with totally depressing aphorisms about how tough life is, start a huge controversy, go on Oprah and get a fucking TV show doing magic tricks and finger painting for little children…

Some of what I said in that first paragraph is true. But most of it is total and complete bullshit. And this leads to the first observation that I have observed in my first 30 years on earth:

Observation #1: Most Of What You Hear Is Total And Complete Bullshit (including much of what I’m about to tell you).

Observation #2: I’ve always thought I’d die young. But contrary to what Billy Joel might say, the good only die young if they also happen to have crippling addictions to illegal drugs. Otherwise they get to stress out about getting old like the rest of us.

Observation #3: The thing that separates us from the apes isn’t opposable thumbs, it’s climate control. If you don’t believe me, visit a Las Vegas casino during the summer.

Observation #4: Baltasar Gracián’s book, The Art of Worldly Wisdom is the most useful book ever written. Seriously, read it.

Observation #5: While on the one hand I hate yuppies/well to do people/people with their shit together, I realize that their existence allows for the bohemian fixie riding revolutionary who may or may not have their shit together. Someone has to pay for all these park benches to sleep on.

Observation #6: I’m only interested in hearing about dream interpretations if they are my dreams and the interpretations don’t somehow imply that I’m gay.

Observation #7: If the word “cuddling” sounded more like the word “fucking,” men would claim to do it all the time, even if we were secretly doing it alone.

Observation #8: Science has yet to explain jack shit about our emotions. Saying which chemicals are released when we get off is one thing, but the reason for it is something entirely different. As an example, if I asked you “why does a car go faster?” you could launch into a discussion about compression and torque and drive trains, and so on. Describe the whole fucking thing from start to finish. Hell, make diagrams if you like. But the reason an engine goes faster is because the driver stomped on the gas. It’s the same with the so-called science of our emotions. Just replace “love” with the gas pedal in my previous example.

Observation #9: I should never be allowed to watch the show JERSEY SHORE and then be allowed on Facebook within 24 hours of one another.

Observation #10: To this day, something really weird happens to my heart whenever I eat a hamburger and fries from Wendy’s. If I eat just the hamburger, I’m fine. If I eat just the fries, I’m fine. Both together and I’m looking up cardiologists in the yellow pages and banging handfuls of Xanax. I am terrified of fast food that should come with interaction warning labels. Especially when said foods are on the same menu.

Observation #11: The easiest way to quit smoking is to have an impending disease that will kill you in months, not years. If the government wants everyone to stop smoking, they should make cigarettes MORE dangerous, not less.

Observation #12: I am generally not materialistic and could give two shits about birthday presents … unless they are REALLY good birthday presents.

Observation #13: Google is making me stupid, yet, like having a bitchy girlfriend who fucks like a champion, I’m helpless to do anything about it.

Observation #14: Coconut M&Ms have restored my faith in candy. They can restore yours too.

Observation #15: Skydiving would have been an awesome skill to have as a passenger on one of the 9/11 planes. Also, parachutes would have been nice as well.

Observation #16: Shockingly, skydiving is way more safe than it sounds. Something like 1 person per every 100,000 jumps dies. Impressive, but still not a good reason to jump out of a perfectly fine airplane.

Observation #17: Nothing outside of yourself will ever make you safe, happy or whole. You’re either born this way or you learn to ignore it to the point where you feel safe, happy, and whole. Sorry to be a bummer (but not really).

Observation #18: Sylvester Stallone is the most successful screenwriter. Ever. And this sort of depresses me.

Observation #19: On the subject of drugs and literary composition: it’s a delicate balance. If every time you drink you wake up under a freeway overpass clutching an empty, perhaps consider switching to herbal tea.

Observation #20: On the topic of cocaine and literary composition: I’M THE KING OF THE WORLD!

Observation #21: On the topic of my last topic: I’m kidding.

Observation #22: On the topic of my last two topics: Or Am I?

Observation #23: Leave well enough alone. Especially if “well enough” is aiming a semiautomatic weapon at your junk.


Oh boy. That about does it. Let’s see, what else? Oh yes, winner of the best birthday present in the last 30 years goes to Nate Brown of Anaheim, CA. Congratulations Nate, I’ll be sure to hang it next to my painting of a man vomiting in a urinal. Thank you, come again.