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By Cameron Pierce

WINNER OF THE WONDERLAND booklet AWARD, top number of 2010

Sad tales from a surreal global.

A fascist mustache. A barren region within a lifeless cat. The ghost of Franz Kafka. Primordial entities mourn the dying in their baby. The determined serve tea to mysterious creatures. A hopeless romantic falls in love with a pterodactyl.

From a post-apocalyptic la the place robot gargoyles are legislations, to a blighted suburbia the place the elephant god Ganesh seeks revenge on a guy and his android spouse, Cat mind Land is a spot of family melancholy and nightmare foreboding. the place sirloin steaks sign up for daycare and ex-lovers go back as tiny dolls. it is a land of camel humans and the Lord of Meat. The farther into Cat mind Land you get, the more challenging it will likely be to get out.

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An occasional omelet is okay, however the texture of eggs—over-easy, scrambled, hard-boiled, anything—never perfect me. I chug what is still of the whiskey and bury my face among my arms. The viewers clucks louder, a manic regular drone like a manufacturing facility of wind-up monkeys. i'm wondering how that girl and her puppy are doing. nonetheless bleeding/licking, most likely. or even the puppy became at the tv after I left and now they’re observing me sweating up the following, getting pecked via the chef and squawked at through five-million chickens who all glance precisely alike. after which it moves me. I don’t must be this guy, Jon Ito. at any place I got here from, or no matter what i'd contemplate this egg obstacle I’m in, all that concerns is the mysterious residence housing a girl and her crawly bastard. no longer that i would like to come to that lounge and scent her vomit, simply because whether that’s what i wished to do, it will possibly turn out very unlikely to flee the studio and navigate my manner via a urban probably in contrast to any i've got ever obvious previous 20 misplaced IN CAT mind LAND to the awakening of the area of acquaintances (which occurred means too without notice for my taste). No. What it potential is this stadium and the condominium are an identical position. i'm Jon Ito merely simply because i select to be within the lounge of an condominium that isn’t mine, or at the very least as the global of acquaintances selected for me to be there. The egg at the plate opens its yolk mouth and speaks. It says, “This is the situation Deleuze referred to as schizophrenia, and also you comprehend what occurred to Deleuze. ” after which there's no egg mouth. “Who the fuck is Deleuze? ” I ask the chef. The poultry shits on my footwear because the crowd squabbles louder than ever. For a second I’m relieved that I by no means suffered from social anxiousness, yet in spite of this, possibly I do. instantly I’m having a worried breakdown. There are not any chickens anyplace (except they’re everywhere), there are humans observing me and those humans love me (for god is aware what reason), there isn't any such factor because the international of pals (there should be not anything with no the area of Friends). Sweat runs down my face such as you wouldn’t think. I don’t understand what’s taking place anymore. i am getting this concept that I may still rip off my face yet this is often loopy. irrespective of how apeshit the area is going, you’ve acquired to grasp greater than to tear off your personal face. Jon Ito could comprehend this. Who am i able to be now that I’m long past? It’s voice in my head that i think forthcoming, turning out to be. It tells me to tear off my face, to unharness the yolk explosions, that every thing may be positive quickly adequate. seeing that i would like every thing to be superb, I choose to do it . . . to sometime declare this new voice as my very own. I begin by means of plugging my nostrils with my thumbs after which progressively pull up, up until eventually the cartilage busts and I’m respiring blood. The chef flaps his wings as a red-slick yolk pops out of the outlet in my face and splatters around the chicken’s again. I can’t say how I got here to have yolk in my face, yet regardless of the yolk is produced from melts the chook right into a puddle of bones, 21 CAMERON PIERCE feathers, and one red-and-white checkered apron.

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