The Miizzzard has finally finished weaving his face-scrambling cloth:
Here are the results,
giving the Miizzzard a new vizzard:
When applied to his hat,
the cloth transmutes it into an autonomous being
with hidden trans-dimensional vortices,
similar in structure to our Miizzzard’s hypercastle.
He would sit in his apartment in the nights of heat and rain and weave, or fold paper, or sew; and as he carefully and drunkenly constructed these illusory selves, he thought of the person who he wanted to be, and he thought of a feminist class he had taken in college, and it was one thought rolling thru his head in time to the music and the wheels and the dawn that would come and pass once more: “Biology is no longer destiny.”
***
“When I was a little kid, I would sit in the bath tub and play with all the shampoos and bubble baths that were sitting around the rim of the tub. I would mix them together in a little plastic cup, and think that if I mixed them just right, and drank it, I would be transformed into Bowser, and I could romp around the town, breathing fire and destroying stuff.”
Full of Vim and Vigor.
“The Miizzzard no longer exists. He died circa 400,000 B.C.E. while trying to discover the transformative secrets of the Space Yetis.
His ghost haunts the digital realm and possesses various weavings and synthetic fabrics in the material world in an attempt to recreate Scriabin’s ‘Mysterium,’ a Gesamkunstwerke that destroys this earth to give birth to another.
“He is a figment, a warm bowl of minty fig meat topped with a spoonful of cold jellied plum.
“I have also heard that, although he has lived out only twenty-three years, the path that he traces thru spacetime is discontinuous: he shook to Marie Curie’s radioactive boogaloo, procured pamphlets from Le Sony’r Ra in Chicago, was a starving outcast with Grettir Armundarson on Drang Isle and pissed blue thanks to Yves Klein. His last known location was drunk out of his mind at the Deep Eddy Cabaret, singing karaoke alongside the shade of Rrose Selavy.
“All we can know for sure is that he’s a weird guy.”
-from William Cardini’s biography of the Miizzzard, “A Neo-Archaic Man”
