...a samurai suddenly burst out in front of me and sliced me clean in two. You might say, he bisected me. I was quite surprised. After he'd cleaned and inspected his blade, which I'm sure met his approval, he went on his way. I took a quick look around and stepped out of my body. I looked down at the husk lying motionless on the (now-very-damp) sidewalk and said, "Huh." Then two butterflies fluttered by, one with a black right wing and a white left wing, and one with a black left wing and white right wing. They were leaving a trail of powder. Has this ever happened to anyone else?

Dear Whoever-put-those-corndogs-all-over-downtown,

I love you.

Sincerely,
Chaney Bicknell.

...unless someone already found them. Here are some hints: Hands! Chins! BEND and REACH! QUICK now, RACE!

toypiano.org

Today's lesson in harmony:
"After giving up attachment for fruitive results, always satisfied, indifferent to external phenomena; he in spite of being engaged in activities does not do anything at all."

I was there specifically to get better shots of this and this. So I was standing outside with my camera pointed at the wall, snapping shot after shot, because in photography, quality is born directly from quantity. All of a sudden I look over my shoulder and there's a rather shaggy looking llama staring at my subject, looking curious but somewhat confused about what I'm doing.

"Hi," I say. But he just chews his cud. Do llamas chew cud? I wonder. Is this llama a figment of my imagination? Does that cud give it away?

I turn back around and go back to endlessly snapping. There's no llama behind me, I assure myself. There's no llama at all. But as I adjust the exposure length to try and increase the contrast on my photo, I notice the sound of chewing growing ever louder behind me. It's maddening, really. This is ridiculous! I turn around!

What I find is not a llama, but a three foot tall man with a lip ring and shaggy hair, chewing sunflower seeds and smoking a pipe. He blows three perfect smoke rings towards the sun and looks at me with a knowing smile. "Reach into my mouth," he says, as though he can hardly hold back his laughter, "and pinch my tongue."

I just stare.

I was walking along Percival Creek the other day, but I needed to cross to the other side so I could follow the train tracks to Capitol Lake (that way's much easier). So I found a fallen log and started to balance-walk across it. As I did so, I noticed a raccoon swimming in the water below me. I stopped to stare. It glanced at me several times before hopping up onto the bank. Shooting me another annoyed glance, it reached into the water and grabbed a stick as it floated by. Spreading some leaves over it, I was shocked to see it turn into a guitar! The raccoon did the same to a second drifting stick, and this one became a little girl! Then the raccoon sprinkled some leaves over its head and became a rather gruff looking man. He picked up the guitar and started off on his way.

I sat there amazed for a few moments, then crossed the creek and followed the group, trying to keep my distance. I followed them all the way into downtown Olympia, where I watched them disappear into Le Voyeur. I followed them into the back room, and watched as the man played the blues, accompanied by the little girl's hand claps.

A crowd started develop, and I thought, "These people are fools! This is no blues singer, it's a raccoon! What a bunch of silly fools..."

But the crowd got larger and larger. Feeling a bit claustrophobic, I ducked out and headed for the back alley, where the music could still be heard. The back door was slightly cracked, and I peered in through the opening.

"What fools!!" I thought. "So gullible!!" I let out a laugh.

Soon I felt a tap on my shoulder. "What are you looking at, friend?" the stranger asked.

"Well," I answered, "I'm looking at a bunch of fools! That man is actually a raccoon and he made his guitar and that little girl out of a couple of sticks! I can't believe how stupid some people can be!!"

Suddenly I heard a loud laugh. And just as suddenly, I realized I wasn't in the alley behind Le Voyeur. I wasn't in downtown Olympia at all, and I certainly wasn't peering into a room and listening to the blues. I was in a stable somewhere in the country and what I was peering into was the anus of a horse.

and I found two ladies there filling up their jugs and talking about how great things which cost money in downtown Olympia were, and what a shame it was that there were so many poor people in such close proximity to those things.

SUDDENLY A GREAT WIND SWEPT THROUGH and I found myself surrounded by bison. They were clearly thirsty, so I slowly and deliberately edged away from the well. To my surprise, I backed into someone, and turning around I found that it was a beautiful woman. She said, "Would you like a drink?" and I glanced back at the well. The bison were gone! Full of joy and glad to drink, I leaned down and let the water run into my mouth. But with my first gulp, I felt something gritty in my throat. I looked around, then looked back at the well, only to find that it wasn't a well at all! It was the tailpipe of one of those two ladies' cars, and they were on their cells calling the police! Alarmed, I stood up, and suddenly a great laugh filled my ears. I turned towards the sound, but saw only a raccoon quickly scampering away.

Has anyone else had an experience like this?

I have placed twenty five beautiful wildebeests in a sack. This sack, I have left beneath the lightning tree in Watershed park. First one to the sack gets to plow his field with 25 wildebeests (Sorry I couldn't make it a number divisible by 2, 3, or 4. You'll need a wide plow. However 25 is divisible by one so an infinitely tiny plow will also work).

Today's lesson in harmony:
"    bind your head with silk!"