Words of Williams (part III)

Good news dear readers! Our trusted man, E.D Williams has once again stared into the abyss and returned with a rollicking and invigorating post. Now into our third installment, E.D. battles against the dull blade of summer with only his pen and wits to protect him. Enjoy his prose thoroughly, but remember, Williams is a trained professional – any injuries or fatalities incurred during your attempts at mimicry have no legal recourse with this fine online publication.  With that said, I give you….E.D. Williams:

The rolly pollies are rolling in their graves.  The banana spiders have grown as thick as a milk maid’s wrist and the mosquitoes are blood drunk and buzzing.  Butterflies are liars and anyone worth their weight in Bacillus Thuringiensis knew them from before as very hungry caterpillars.  This is summer in the garden of sweat and swelter; the throes of the heat index, if you will.  Hello again.  I’m Engle Dale Williams and more so than any book, I would recommend a stiff drink and a deep woods insect repellent.  It’s only practical.  But enough of all this rigamarole.  Let’s reminisce.

I’ll be the first to admit that my mind is about as sharp as a filthy ashtray.  The filters are still wet with use but the goods have cherried out and leave an old man sifting.  It’s kind of like noodling catfish.  You know they’re there, you just have to find the slick bastards.  Not to worry.  I’ve at least managed to keep my f-a-c-u-l-t-i-e-s intact.

Who Needs Charlie, Travels with Cash and Clive

Let me begin by saying this was not done out of some duty to my own vim, vigor, and vitality.  But having just read Danielewski’s House of Leaves I felt the walls creeping in and decided to hitchhike to California.

Mind you, this was nothing John Krakauer would have found interesting. Nonetheless, my adventures were fraught with many a mile and sinister twist.  Magic and cancer. Matchstick Mennonites.  A slack-jawed siren and the Dairy Queen’s “Thing.”  The prophets of U-Haul wage war on cats and win.  I will spare you the graphic details dear reader.  They are not for the faint of heart.  But fear not my friend.  Survival is not so much for the fit but for the well prepared.

Let us consider, for a moment, that a first impression may be the only impression you get.  This calls for a little finesse.  After all, a copy of de Sade’s Philosophy in the Boudoir might give a potential ride the wrong idea.  Discretion is key and one must choose wisely outside the walls of Rome.  My first consideration was Kerouac’s On The Road but it felt too contrived.The obvious runner-up was Douglas Adams  Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy but that just seemed too ironic.  So, after much deliberation I chose in favor of faith and Folsom.  I’ll spare you the synopsis save that both paired well with my travels.  It’s peculiar how sin and salvation are a common theme between the two.  It’s a common theme among hitchhikers as well.

But where are my manners?  These old druthers may not be your particular cup of coffee.  Besides, E.D. Williams is not some wise blood huckster pitching tales of redemption and watershed sentiment.  I may spin a yarn or two but that’s the privilege of an East Texas upbringing.  It’s your summer so do as you will.  Read Bill Bryson’s At Home at home for all I care.  You can even read Emma Donoghue’s  Room in your own room.  Just take from this poor man’s ramblings a few words of advice.

1. It’s pronounced (‘leh-‘nerd ‘skin-‘nerd)

and 2.  A good book may not save your soul, but it may save your summer.

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