Muses of a Monkey Playing Cymbals
Welcome to the home of the monkey playing cymbals. This is where I (the monkey) finally get to express how I really feel about how I and other monkeys get a bum wrap in the media.
ABOUT ME
MONKEY PLAYING CYMBALSSEATTLE, WASHINGTON
UNITED STATES
Previous Posts
- Monkeys flying
- Leave us out of your birthday songs
- The Dancing Monkey Saloon
- Monkey wrench
- Love Monkeies?
- Musical Monkey
- You have nothing to fear but fear itself
- Phantom of the Opera
- Everybody's got something to hide except for...
- Monkey art
6 Comments:
Yeah, and what's up with the literary term "Goat in the machine"? I gather that it's supposed to be helpful for a story to have one but I don't get it. Seems awfully risky to me. I mean, just like the essay you linked to, a goat'll eat anything. You think letting one of those suckers loose in a machine is a good idea? I don't, that's for damned sure.
Hmmm, I've heard "Ghost in the Machine," but not "Goat in the Machine." Must be a Maine thing, uh yeah.
Ghost?!! That makes more sense. Uh, let's just forget about that goat thing.
And it's more like A-yuh, a long A sound and the accent on the second syllable. Just like Grampee used to say. (Grampee = grandfather)
Do you have anything to eat? A banana, maybe. Anything would do...A-yuh.
Damn Mank, you are a funny little bastard, I have to admit it.
You know what I think? I think you're wasting your time hanging out in Tim-Elvis' office. I know that you probably have some sinister plan that will ultimately result in his complete humiliation at your cymbal grasping hands, and, you know, that's cool if it's what you're into. Who am I to judge? But maybe there are other creative outlets you could explore. I mean an ape with your combination of comedic timing and lethal cunning is a natural for late night talk show writing. Just an idea.
Elvis had a manager. See where it got him.
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