Monday, August 9, 2010

August 5, 2010, A Vacation in Beautiful Valley Junction, Oregon

A few days ago, while vacationing in beautiful Valley Junction, Oregon, I spent an afternoon documenting the images and words of modern day cave dwellers painted on the underside of a bridge.

These bridgemen—who were most likely the same age as those ancient beings that became humanity’s or proto-civilization’s first visual artists; (I have no doubt that poets came first weaving stories of magic, casting fantastic shadows into the minds of the listener)—crafted ideas under similar circumstances. Their blood was boiling with intoxicants. One person held the paintbrush while the other held the firebrand lamp and still another stood by smoking or drinking a fermented intoxicant shouting directions.

And me, Marshmallow Indiana Jones archaeologist unextraordinaire, a man of the future who stumbled across this tomb of treasures while walking in an area he lived near as a child. The narrow green steel bridge no longer extant made no cave safe for five year olds to play under. 

Inside the cave like structure there was this funky smell like too much beer, wine, and piss and who knows what had been spilled in a special secret ritual spot where neither rain nor river could wash away. Some of the symbols (like a gambling card with a phallus or middle finger signifying the suit) splashed on the cement appeared to be constructed of a super thin red paint or actual blood, which could have contributed to that pungent smell. A Magicman cut the head off a neighbors chicken with a knife made from a shattered Budweiser bottle and held the spasmodically twitching creature (who is quickly realizing its death) over a beer can torn asunder capturing its blood to the god who's name was either "H" or "4" two Zero. Behind the painted symbols there existed still another layer of unintelligible scribbles etched into the cement face with a nail or other pointed object obviously denoting a even more ancient bridge dweller. Their language used was primitive at best and I had to make a few interpretations.

The following account is what these mysterious bridge-men had to say about that distant yesterday:

Random Shit

What does it mean?
Family style bitches
8 – B – 1 – 7 HUG RIFE
Eat my man pussy please
Dog Cat & Horse
Sick Fuck 420
Joe was smoking bud
Red Crow
Fuck Alf in the britches
Nigo blood witch suck me
Floppy donkey dick
Wite witch write
Dancing with dick
RAM 187 8 – 3 – 1
H2O for life
Joe KKK fern-rail
Red row
Pussy Boat
TP gone one
Who Ever Wrote This
    Likes To Suck Dick

1 comment: