Based On A Story
August 19, 2012
Based On A Story
A note from Matthew Ellman
The preface I am writing, for the following work by Charlie Beck, is an act of protest. I call for the immediate arrest of the man known as Charlie Beck for the following charges: the first is conspiracy to commit regicide. I learned of Beck’s plot to kill the king of a country I am not legally allowed to mention, in tapes sent to me by an anonymous soldier. The soldier had fought with Beck in the Civil War of 1812.
Beck has long used a false signature when producing his work. Beck is wanted by the French government, for acts of treason. His name in France, is Le Beck. He has been ruling Zambia as a chief executive officer known as Khalid Beck. In Spain he is Jesus Alejandro; a simple fishermen. Though truly, Charlie Beck is an art pirate. Beck picks up identities around the world as a front to steal my art. I am responsible for all his best works. I receive no credit for this. I feel it is my place to take ownership of what is mine. Do not trust what you are about to read. It is all based on documents from my life. His process is to steal my photos, music and writing and misrepresent them as best he can. He can’t spell or use grammar. His tenses are all over the place. The time is severely displaced. It is a disgrace to my work. For shame Charlie Beck. For shame. The fantastically amazing original work written by Matthew Ellman, not the apparition Charlie Beck, is coherent and flows with a simple concise narrative. When the devious Charlie Beck is done with it, who knows? Most of the time the story ends with the devil winning or some other rebellion against creative writing teachers. Charlie Beck is a liar and a cheat. I have not received permission to review the following text, though I assure you it is a farce.
Lastly, Charlie Beck has watched “The Maltese Falcon,” too many times. He walks around mumbling Bogart to himself. True it is my fault for keeping his acquaintance for so long. I take ownership of this. Though when I could not stand for this lunacy any longer, I took agency with the following actions. I first threatened a duel. When this was scoffed at, due to my obvious and infamously poor musket skills, I offered a starring contest for his soul. Again knowing of my poor visual acuity, I was ridiculed. Upon this, Charlie offered me this note. I now offer one reminder: DO NOT TRUST CHARLIE BECK. BEWARE!
Based On A Story- Be Brave Be Honest
Lying in the middle of an alley next to the intersection of Broadway and Lawrence, in Uptown Chicago, a truck is loaming over, is waiting for me to move. It’s 10 a.m. on a sunny Sunday morning in Early June.
“Fuck!” I think. As I turn over. “Well my wrist hurts a lot and my knee hurts. I have fallen 100 times before. Fuck it. I’ll lay here for a while until I come back to my senses.”
Earlier That Morning
“Oi!” I said.
“Oi indeed! Hey man how’s it going? Can you believe the Lakers got Howard?” Dan said.
“Yes indeed sir. Five more years of championships. I called it.”
“Did you hear the lead singer from the Cramps died…. like three years ago?”
“No. That fucking blows. I guess we are never going to a Cramps show. Bummer.”
Moments alter you when you can’t see clearly. Fighting for control of the senses becomes mental anguish. You see mortality clearly. Your own fate and the fate of those close to you become visible. The soundtrack of phrases and laughter that comes with human contact rings in your head, like old photographs and home movies of three year olds jumping on trampolines.
Back to the story…
I shouldn’t have talked to Dan, so damn long. I wouldn’t be this hungry, and I would have picked up my board and walked over those potholes like I always do. Well Starbucks is still only 100 feet away. I can make it maybe. I look up and hear someone approach.
“Are you o.k.?” A girl asks with a high-pitched voice. She sounded 13 or 14. Blinded. The sun is shining in my eyes and my glasses have fallen off my face.
“Um, I don’t know.” I reply. She continued down the block. A few moments later, more footsteps and a much bigger shadow replace the girl’s. I still can’t see.
“Are you O.K.?” A man asks with a deep smoky voice. He is coming in and out of sight. The middle-aged man is wearing a coffee and bear stained white Dunkin Donuts shirt, which does not cover his large belly dangling over his Levis.
“Why are people asking me if I am O.K.? What does that even mean?” I mumble to myself. Where’s my board? Turning my head I see my large skateboard in my arm. There is no blood covering the green monster on the bottom of the deck. The pavement is heavy beneath me, “O.K. I should respond,” I think. I still can’t fucking see anything. “Um I don’t know.” I reply.
When talking to friends it’s best to keep a timer handy. If it goes past the five-minute mark, you are wasting time. Pertinent information transferred between friends and colleagues requires 2 minutes or less. Five minutes satisfies a luxury requirement. This luxury is only ascertained through long-term friendship. If Dan had been someone else, less important or distracting, the two-minute rule is applied.
That being written I will continue the conversation with Dan….
“So how’s life?” I asked.
“You know. Same old shit. Got this new phone the other day. Pretty fucking cool. I already downloaded a bunch of cool aps. You need to get the MLB ap, it’s the shit.” Dan said.
“Yeah man. I’ll definitely have to check that out. What’s up with the Padres?” I asked
“Oh man, they just got a new owner. I think it will be good. More money.” Dan said.
“Good shit.” I said.
The End For Now……
“I’m still fucking hungry,” I think. I grab my knee with my good arm and continue to lie on the ground. “O.K., I can kinda see better.” Another man approaches. He is a middle aged Asian wearing a brown striped leisure suit.
“Are you O.K.?” He asks.
”I don’t know.” I reply.
“Would you like me to call an ambulance?” He asks
He want’s to call an ambulance? Maybe, I should try and get up and see what the fuck is up with these injuries. If I can make it into Starbucks I can still get some food. Fuck hospitals. That’s time and money. Unless something is falling off, dust yourself off cowboy and get some food. I use every ounce of strength and stand up.