[BRINDLEKIN TALES – Book 3: Chapter 1]
Re: [MCN-Announce]- Easing Into Nirvana [my latest blog entry,and final chapter of Brindlekin Tales]
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: Arnie Worster
Date: February 24, 2021 6:32 PM
Darn, Zeke. I’m sorry.
Did you read the epilogue at the end? It’s based on my faith that all wrongs shall right themselves soon enough, and that I have every reason to believe the pups will be returned to me. This is certainly NOT the final twist in the plot…on to Book 2!
Re: [MCN-Announce]- Easing Into Nirvana [my latest blog entry, and final chapter of Brindlekin Tales]
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: Arnie Worster
Date: February 24, 2021 7:14 PM
I did but it still sucks for the time being
THANK YOU! Yes, it sucks, but that should never be the final conclusion of such tragic scenarios. For in so concluding, one has surrendered to one’s OWN dark side. The whole point of these tales is to demonstrate to the world, the ultimate benevolence and positive results that come out of devotion to The Good. So of course, this is not how it ends. But also “of course,” one who desires (or is chosen) to BE such a living example, must be run through a most painful and prolonged gauntlet. The Book of Job is a perfect example of this, for those who look to the Bible for inspiration.
Have a wonderful evening, you and your darling pooch…and thanks so much, again, for reading the epilogue. My tales are PROFOUND, and will accomplish much good for this planet…even unto an ASTONISHING degree! And to think it is two, adorable pups who’ve brought me to such heights! Canis familiaris is truly man’s best friend. Please hug your furball for me, tonight.
FYI: I am shutting down my GoFundMe account within a few days, as donations are no longer sought. But thank you for the generosity you HAVE shown, as well as for your kind concern. Some day I’m sure I will have the tremendous honor of meeting you in person. That day will be the result of my Brindlekin Tales rocketing to global applause, with floods of money allowing me to travel and visit some of my fans, especially those who came first. Maybe I’ll even be nominated for the Nobel Puppy Prize. :)
Subject: Speaking of the Nobel Puppy Prize!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: Arnie Worster
Date: February 24, 2021 7:29 PM
Just for fun I googled “nobel puppy prize,” and look what I stumbled upon:
Foxtrot the dog accepts Nobel Peace Prize
Now ain’t THAT a kick in the ass…a GOOD kick in the ass, I mean. I’m wagging my tail over this, right now. Woof, woof, woof!
Re: next chapter
From: Zeke Krahlin
Date: February 24, 2021 9:38 PM
So sorry about the loss of your beloved pups. I hope you continue to find peace and comfort in the Buddha amid the many challenges of your life.
Thank you, ThunderSparrow. If you read the epilogue to my last chapter, you’ll see I absolutely DO rest in the Buddha’s wisdom. In fact, many of the tales illustrate what I call my “Bodhisattva Premise.” So I’m good, I’m there already, and the pups’ removal from my life is but a temporary situation, as more twists and turns enter my amazing but convoluted path towards Canine Nirvana! Arf, arf! :)
Re: deep peace
From: Zeke Krahlin
Date: February 25, 2021 9:26 AM
Your Bodhisattva Premise resonates. Here’s something I just came across that you might like.
I very much love it, as I’m a BIG Celtophile, myself. A chapter in my novel, “Free Me From This Bond” is entitled after a Celtic deity:
Then there is the Irish Sea God:
And this werewolf tale from medieval Wales:
Jump down to the bottom of my home page, and check out the altar, and what it says there:
Also, jump back to the top of the home page, then slowly scroll down all the way to the bottom. Notice that it is a magic sword containing all the sections of my website! With a bejeweled hilt at the top, then the blade, then the point, then lightning, then the altar.
Lovely dreams to you!
Re: NEVER MIND, FOUND IT!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: Arnie Worster
Date: February 26, 2021 4:43 PM
Good I probably still have them if you have a need
Okay, thanks, but they are now backed up to both an external hard drive, and to the cloud…so I’m sure everything’s copasetic now. Here’s a new strategy I just came up with:
Only moments ago I ordered 500 of the following business cards I designed myself ($31.45 includes shipping and tax), and here is how it looks:
I will stroll around the Castro, plunking these cards here and there, 25-50 at a time, spread across a week or a bit more. The idea is to catch the interest of at least SOME people. Then, as those who love the tales spread the word, more and more local denizens will know what’s going on…and by their own inspiration, see to it that the pups gain protection w/o my attempting to do so on my own. (Seeing as Deek will avoid me like the plague for now on, I guess.) They may also REPORT him for animal abuse, and have the doggies taken away. But they will also know who I am, and let me know if that occurs, so I can get to the SPCA and adopt them myself. I already have a good friend up in Mendoland who will gladly COVER the adoption expenses. Or, perhaps, Deek will feel highly motivated to treat them better, since so many eyes will be watching. At least, that is my hope. All real names in my tales have been changed, but it’s easy enough to know what’s up. The mistreatment by my building manager and a few other locals will also become exposed to the light of truth. The are OTHER interesting outcomes that will probably develop from this little adventure, but I’ll let YOU muse upon that for now.
Estimated delivery time for the business cards is March 9th, so the days from now till then will be excruciatingly slow for yours truly.
Subject: All is not lost…
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: February 26, 2021 9:42 PM
…not by a long shot, good doctor! Book 1 is a joyful collection of tales for the most part, but ends abruptly on a tragic note…as if struck down by the Morlockian Wizards Themselves, dragging the pups along with them into their dark, subterranean lair. The curtain opens in Book 2 on a gloomy stage with but one candle for illumination…and it flickers directly from mine own heart.
I remember when Flaco dug that hole in a corner garden across the street, and plunked herself into it, secure behind some drooping, broad leaves as she watched the world go by. But mostly, she gazed upon my own sad self with joy, as if to say: “Do not worry, Zeke, everything will work out just fine, you will never lose us!” That was on the eve of Halloween last year, when my tales took off! My fear (that I would never see the two pups again, after that evening) proved wrong, and her prophecy, correct. For since then, we spent many wonderful weeks together, Flaco, Lucky and I, culminating in 47 blessed days of their sweet company as my roommates. Yet now they are gone, as if my fear were true all along!
One cannot POSSIBLY imagine how they’d be brought back to me, as Deek will most assuredly avoid me and my neighborhood at all costs. Since once the pups sight me again, they will become exuberant like never before, to be, and remain, with me. And they will BOTH howl with grief in seeing me depart without them. Which will THEN cause Deek to turn his anger against these darling creatures. Yet, as each day passes, grow greater the odds he will lose the doggies one way or another. Or, in a foolish, bipolar, meth-induced delusion, give them up to a stranger for money or drugs, or both. For which he will suffer tremendous remorse once he snaps out of it some days later. And that is PRECISELY the hell I’ve been desperately trying to save him from, all along! Not to mention sparing those brindlekin from a horrid fate, as well. On top of that, Deek is ABUSIVE and NEGLECTFUL of those pooches…thus my brave attempt to protect them from their original owner, risking hostility, eviction and jail time in so doing.
But now that he has won this round of “Battle of the Bodisattvas,” by presenting a likely-forged SPCA registration form to the police, there is no way I could ever bring the brindlemutts under my wing again…even if Deek SHOULD ask me to do that, for whatever reason (such as some crazy stalker threatening to injure or take away the dogs). As he could easily betray me by running off to another cop, with the false accusation I stole them again. He is a vengeful little twit, that’s for sure!
As for my own disposition, I am perfectly fine, despite the shadow that hangs over my world these days. Flaco & Lucky remain beside me in spirit, like two angelic sprites guiding me toward the exit from this Stygian cavern and through the Gates of Avalon. I’ve seen them through the worst of the cold weather; the days are warmer now…and that SURELY counts for something. Their love has transformed me in tremendously positive ways, and I owe them my fidelity in return…thus I do NOT cave in to remorse, and slink away from this impossible challenge, like a spineless toady.
For my salvation lies in the Bodhisattva Premise: that all my enemies, including Deek of course, are simply angels themselves, playing wicked roles that I may triumph, and emerge the hero of these frightening scenarios they have so skillfully composed. In such a case, then the only LOGICAL conclusion is that the pups are perfectly fine, like trained animals in Hollywood films who only PLAY at being injured or threatened. Because in real life, they are VERY well cared for. As The Premise also implies:
WE HAVE NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT.
So I can choose to flip my perception like a coin: either picture Flaco & Lucky abused, lonely and cold (and subject to Deek’s dangerous mood swings), or picture them as well provided for and loved, with access to a cozy home whenever they and Deek are out of my sight. But in so switching one’s perception, do NOT interpret that as meaning this will influence the outcome for good or for bad. For the POSITIVE is inevitable in this case, and in any OTHER case under the sun! Switching off the negative images nonetheless serves an excellent result: your own peace of mind. I believe I covered this before, also suggesting that there may not even BE any homeless…but that they, too, are bodhisattvas acting out their role as vagrants, in order to test humanity’s call to compassion. I originally named my theory “Neo-Christianity,” then “Neo-Positivity,” and finally, “the Bodhisattva Premise.” But they all come down to the same thing, which is a decades-long meditation on the concept that (as the Buddha claimed) “we have no enemies, only teachers.”
There are many hints in my life that this is so, gathered over the years…some of which I have already listed in a recent email TO you, Dr. Wattson. But here are six more:
- Deek appears to have some well-off people in his life, else how could he just show up now and then, with a prize pedigree canine, as he has TWICE in the past two years? It’s not like you could pick such pooches up from just anywhere. Most recently was this past Exmass Day, which evening he showed up with a stunning blue pit bull. A large dog of very sweet nature, shivering and confused about being in the cold, dark night and on the streets…as if he was brought out from someone’s home, just to fuck with my head. For Deek returned it to whomever gave it to him in the first place, shortly thereafter! Then there was “Gator,” an exquisitely handsome mastiff bulldog, also of a very kind demeanor. THAT relationship lasted several months. He has also expressed less love for Flaco, than for Lucky…which aggrieved me no end. How could he say that about such a joyful, lovely little doggy? I suspect this is all an act on his part, to rattle my nerves, thus causing me to grow stronger in how I deal with life’s slings and arrows.
- He also seems to know any number of well-dressed men, whom I meet occasionally, hanging out with him. Most are African American, but not all. They strike me as very polite and well educated. But Deek reveals NOTHING about who they really are, and what their relationship IS, with him. After all these years, I know hardly anything about his life outside of our humble sphere.
- His frequent, pointless little dramas seem to serve no purpose other than to induce anxiety in my own, concerned self. The Bodhisattva Premise suggests this is not necessarily due to the neurosis of a disturbed person, but could be, instead, the actions of a spiritual guide intent on shaking me awake into a better reality, via carefully timed and orchestrated crises he creates. Which I must then learn to overcome…and in so doing, am better for the experience.
- Deek’s calmness during his abduction of my pups was most unusual. In fact, we were BOTH placid, even in the heat of the climax when he scooted off with BOTH dogs at his side. This is because NEITHER one of us cares to cause the doggos any trauma. If Deek were truly nuts, would he be able to maintain such a peaceful aura amid conflict?
- The poetic cadence of a long string of remarkable events, and the ridiculous dramas played out therein, are surely extraordinary. I mourned the probable loss of my canine friends in chapter 1, but then they returned shorty after. I danced with the dogs FOR THE FIRST TIME just four days before losing them back to Deek. And all the other up-and-down episodes in between, perfectly timed and played out as if a superb author had composed them…not some bipolar meth freak!
- The many crises over such a prolonged period of time have SHARPENED my writing skills at an unbelievably accelerated pace! And that was what the bodhisattvas intended, among other good things…at least, that is what I believe to be the case.
There are even MORE examples I could lay out, but my purpose in listing them here, is NOT to convince you, or even myself, of the rightness of My Premise. But I AM wondering how to proceed in this next round of the game. Should I reach out to the homeless? After lengthy deliberation, the answer is no. The only POSSIBLE street person I’d trust is no longer around, as far as I know. You might think I’m talking about Boulevard Joe, but he has since proven himself incapable of following through on anything of import. So who am I talking about, then? That Phillipine dude, Jay. For he came up to me one night and, before I could even expel a “hello,” he declared, “That guy Po’ Boy needs to show you some respect!” But that happened when…mid-December? I’ve only seen him twice since then, at the end of that same month. He’s a very good fellow who I know would make a GREAT ally, thus could possibly turn some of Deek’s friends away from his schizophrenic madness.
Getting my tales out there, especially here in the Castro, COULD go a long way in righting the wrongs heaped up against me, as well as getting some real protection for the dogs through others, since I can no longer do that myself. And that is why I came up with the idea just this afternoon, of distributing business cards throughout the Castro, promoting my Brindlekin Tales with a link TO them, that is easy to type, and to remember. Well, I assume you’ve read my post to Mr. Worster by now, so you are well aware. As a matter of fact, the idea had started simmering in my occipital lobes while I was in the middle of writing this email. So I stopped mid-post, in order to design the business card, then order 500 copies from VistaPrint! After completing that task, I found a new email from Arnie Worster, so I told him about it, then forwarded a copy to you. And once having accomplished all of THAT, I finally resumed composing this letter! Furthermore:
Since I gifted the two leashes to Deek when I gave up the dogs, I have ordered new ones, in good faith that they SHALL come back to me, by hook or by crook or by halo. I didn’t order new collars as well, even though they also went to Deek, as I already have those lovely harnesses. Another tenet of the Bodhisattva Premise is this:
You cannot go by ingrained assumptions, even if based upon an entire history of previous experience. For the greater secrets of life are, and MUST, remain hidden and inaccessible until your time has come for certain ultimate truths to be revealed. Now let me end this missive with a one-sentence summation, that will most likely be quoted octillions of times over, across the span of the next hundred centuries, or longer:
If I am grasping at straws, then may they be spun from threads of pure gold by Clotho herself, with Lachesis binding them into a weft of joy, while Atropos stands idly by in humble refusal to apply her shears.
Your most appreciative comrade,
Ezekiel Joseph Krahlin-Holmes
Subject: SFPD-BRM Officers Save the Day!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: February 27, 2021 7:29 PM
Not that I never fantasized something like this ever happening…for I have, in many intriguing scenarios over the past three decades or so, of which the stolen-pups escapade is but the most recent. Yet it DID happen, finally, late last night around 3:30 AM…so there ya go, Dr. Wattson, a fairy tale come true! With a sweet touch of the Damon-Runyon, kindhearted gangster trope tossed in. So please, grab a cushion and a seat, sit back and allow me the immense gratitude of relaying to you, this astounding gem of an episode that only occurred to me less than half-an-earth’s rotation ago!
I had just retired to my pupless cot, with smartphone astride my head and playing the latest scary podcast from Stitcher. At first, I thought it was a voice in a dream as I drifted off to sleep, a young woman’s voice calling up to me through the window, in a muffled tone: “Zeke? Hello, Zeke, are you awake? Zeke Krahlin?” Of course, it took several moments to finally realize someone really WAS summoning me from the sidewalk below. The fact that it was a FEMALE voice calling out, made it especially unreal, and thus more convincing as a voice in a dream than in the waking world.
Upon coming to my full senses, I urgently flopped out of the cot and landed smack-dab and face first upon the dirty, softwood floor. For a cot is not a good nest to exit from in haste, unlike a standard bed…due to the concave nature of the canvas stretched over the frame, and the ridge of the frame itself. You have to actually sit yourself up first, with legs flung over and feet planted firmly on the floor, then grab the frame’s edge with both hands, and HEAVE yourself forward with a mighty shove before you can even HOPE to leave its deep embrace, and find yourself standing erect.
“Hello, Zee-eeek, anybody home?” she called out once more as I gathered myself up from the floor and dashed to the window…to gaze down upon not one, not two, not three, but FOUR smiling police officers, one of whom was a woman. She eagerly gestured at me to step outside! Well, Wattson, I was truly flummoxed, yet quickly tied a bandanna around my lower face, donned my Persian slippers, skipped the smoking jacket and queerstalker cap, and rushed on down the stairs in my sweatpants and T-shirt, into the lobby, and out the front gate.
“Hello, Zeke, we have good news for you!” spoke another officer. “Do you mind, though, if we talk on the other side, away from the lobby camera?”
“Uh, yeah, of course,” I obliged, confused over what would come down, though I sensed nothing foul.
So we turned the corner to the back of the building, which is on 16th Street…a much more private spot, because dark and away from pedestrians. Though we didn’t stop walking up the hill for about a third of the way, because of aNOTHER camera planted by the fire escape and pointing down towards the intersection at Market Street. It was during this brief stroll that I noticed their unique SFPD patches, which flashed an eye-catching luminous pink as their arms swung. The moment we finally stopped, I took a closer peek at the patch:
It was the standard SFPD insignia, but with a blue rose inlaid over an upward-pointing pink triangle in the center! The exact design I had fashioned way back in 1997, though theirs is much more artful, for it shone from an inner light which source I could not discern. I then leapt back and gasped: “The Blue Rose Militia!”
I certainly can NOT duplicate its elegance in this letter, but I CAN give you a rough idea of this astonishing patch, with the following image:
And here’s a smaller version of that same pic, to give you a better idea of how exquisitely subtle the design appears, when worn.
The kindly peacekeepers began to chuckle among themselves, before the copper-haired, tall, lanky one cut them off and said:
“We have your back, Zeke,” then lowered his frame a bit to tap me on the shoulder and affirm: “Arwyn misses you very much, and looks forward to the day, very soon, when you two lovebirds can be together once more!”
A rush of sheer joy shivered up and down my spine, and I almost fell to the concrete in a swoon of ecstasy. But I tilted myself against the wall, to maintain my balance, and uttered in gobsmacked awe, this lone syllable:
That same cop countered with:
Well that did it, here came the tears and my failed efforts to wipe them away, because the flow was just too copious. As I shuddered in sobs of elation, realizing my dreams coming true, they further explained with gusto, that:
- Yes, they ARE the Blue Rose Militia, inspired by my proposal in 1997, and have long since expanded worldwide, including all the most homophobic countries, which are those run by religious fanatics, either Muslim or Christian. A clandestine organization of course, even to myself until this very moment. But they HAVE been watching over and protecting me all those years…gathering ALL my writings off the Internet, including those that came BEFORE that landmark year!
- And, yes, they WILL soon make themselves known to the world, and, yes, they have troops of brilliant white-hat hackers who are about to usurp all major government, religious, corporate and military agencies across the planet, in a totally bloodless coup.
- And, yes, my books will very soon appear in every bookstore in every nation…and will all be considered part of a greater family of books to be titled: “The Final Testament.”
- And, yes, I shall occupy a lovely, rambling mansion with loyal, handsome guardians to do my bidding, as well as protect me and those I love. But for a little while longer, I must remain hovel bound.
They described SO much more than what’s listed above, and in such rapid sequence, it dawned on me they’re not speaking at all, their lips are NOT moving…this is TELEPATHIC! At any rate, they regretted having to leave me alone for the nonce, but have one more surprise. With that, a limousine showed up out of the blue and parked right alongside us. A passenger door swung open, and out hopped Lucky & Flaco, yapping with joy as they jumped into my arms and almost knocked me over!
“You do not have to worry about Deek bothering you ever again, Zeke,” spoke the lesbian peacemaker, this time moving her lips.
She then handed me an adoption form from the SPCA, stating that I now own both pups, who have finally been chipped, vaccinated (and Flaco spayed), and all future veterinarian expenses will be covered by the Blue Rose Militia. At the bottom was my digital signature, so I didn’t even need to sign it right then and there, myself. After waiting a few moments for me to peruse the document, she added:
“Nor your building manager, nor those nasty residents of 208. We’ve got that all taken care of.”
I dared not ask for any details on this matter, but just stood dumbstruck, while embracing both pooches as they licked the tears from my face, and wagged a little whirlwind with their curly-fry tails.
“But we ask of you one small sacrifice in exchange!” piped up the bodacious Asian fuzz standing off to my right.
I paused my petting of the brindlekin at that moment, for fear of what that request might be. Which was:
“That you wipe out all evidence of your Brindlekin Tales from the Internet, for the time being.”
I thought, “Whew! Is THAT all? Yeah, I can do that…these dogs are worth everything to me. SUCH an easy sacrifice in exchange!”
“Yes, Mr. Krahlin,” he nodded in agreement (as his mind heard the words my tongue failed to shape).
“For you SHALL have much power, wealth, love and all else that a good person like you deserves, anyway. And…this mandate is but temporary, for your Brindlekin Tales SHALL be published along with all your other books, some time into the holiday season this year…err, I mean around Christmas, but it won’t be called that any more, and the date will shift a bit, to December 30th, because that’s Randolph’s birthday…and, err, it will be called ‘Brindlefest’ from now on. It is just that, at this time, exposing those stories to the public may interfere with your militia’s present activities. I’m sure you understand.”
“Uh, yes, YES,” I shook in some sort of queasy epiphany as I thought the words, “I am truly honored.”
“It is your good works, and what comes from your heart, anyway,” the female officer chimed in, “not what you have or have not achieved superficially.”
They then bid me sweet adieus, assuring me that I will not be alone in this world much longer…and I gleefully brought the pups back to their TRUE home. At least for now, until we move to that mansion with acres and acres of backyard to please any little doggy beyond his and her wildest dreams. And guess what happened just this morning?
Peering out the window, I espied Myrtle and her nasty son, Adisa, packing away large boxes into a U-Haul truck. I have yet, however, to enjoy witnessing the departure of the building manager.
I hope you enjoyed this little fantasy of mine, dear Wattson! More coming up soon, as I speculate further upon the many possible ways I shall be reunited with my brindlekin!
Yours in confidence,
Ezekiel J. Krahlin-Holmes
PS: I found this little ducky tucked away beside a tree’s roots on my return from the corner grocery and grog shop where Morey clerks. It’s barely an inch wide and an inch high, and I found it just minutes before completing the tale above. I’m a lucky duck!