November 15, 2011
Dear Reader,
The title of page 34 is, "Rooms That Vanish." You will find a transcript of this page at the end of this letter. Make sure you Zoom in to see the lettering and/or read the transcript, below. Next Tuesday, I post page 35. Have a great week!
Remember, if you don't dream any other day of the week, dream with me on Tuesdays.
You can now link to the Table of Contents on every page. Click here to start at the beginning of this webcomic. Have a great week and remember that Goatwater is updated every Tuesday. Email any questions or comments to bassacards(at) yahoo.com.
If this is your first time visiting this site, or you are a regular reader, email me at the address above if you want me to add you to my mailing list so that I can send you an email reminder, every Tuesday, when I’ve added the new page. No spam, and I will not share your email with anybody else, just the link to the new page and some update information, if I have any. And feel free to let me know, at any time, if you want to stop receiving the weekly emails. Thank you for your support!
Goatwater - Page 34 - Transcript - Rooms That Vanish
Octaroon/Officer
Yes Sir, Goodman, Sir! During the Season of Iniquity, here at the Hotel La Fete, it is easy to book a suite of rooms that vanish. Where diseases come and go then come back again and where any Reveler you desire will greet you in pidgin or patois, before speaking to you in tongues about their views concerning the state of the carnival world. Right when you are about to inquire further about masquerades and mud marches, hallucinations, cane-braking, back-breaking sweet skin and spirit orgies and what they all have to do with a foul, open sore called history, your Reveler disappears into a crack in the floor or wall and by some method that contradicts mainstream magic and solid, fact-based science, brings the entire room with him or her, leaving you, once again, loitering alone outside the Hotel La Fete. How many nights will you stay?
Goodman
Oh at ease, already. But wait a just an eighth of a minute, here. Nights? You can hear me? And see me, too?! You are so familiar. I am looking for a man called Officer Leopold. He’s a big, brown simple chap in red. A mealy apple of a man. But aren’t you he? You are and you aren’t. It is my duty then to offer you this warning: whenever a Swarthy Gentleman of the Law mounts a pious but anxious Octaroon, high yellow, brown paper bag and toothpick tinted, mud and red bone cherubs (fresh from the slum, mind you) pickaninny spirits, and cocoabird, chimney sweep angels fly south so fast in order to gather together in the darkest most heated place to wait for the opportunity to be born again into more acceptable skin. “Whatever that is,” they joke every time, as one of their lot lights a fat colorless candle in a glass, his, her or its eyes aflame. “Whatever that is…” Ruthie, yoo-hoo Ruthie! Listen to me! Look at me! How do I look? I’m here again, Girl. I’m here!
Dear Reader,
The title of page 34 is, "Rooms That Vanish." You will find a transcript of this page at the end of this letter. Make sure you Zoom in to see the lettering and/or read the transcript, below. Next Tuesday, I post page 35. Have a great week!
Remember, if you don't dream any other day of the week, dream with me on Tuesdays.
You can now link to the Table of Contents on every page. Click here to start at the beginning of this webcomic. Have a great week and remember that Goatwater is updated every Tuesday. Email any questions or comments to bassacards(at) yahoo.com.
If this is your first time visiting this site, or you are a regular reader, email me at the address above if you want me to add you to my mailing list so that I can send you an email reminder, every Tuesday, when I’ve added the new page. No spam, and I will not share your email with anybody else, just the link to the new page and some update information, if I have any. And feel free to let me know, at any time, if you want to stop receiving the weekly emails. Thank you for your support!
Goatwater - Page 34 - Transcript - Rooms That Vanish
Octaroon/Officer
Yes Sir, Goodman, Sir! During the Season of Iniquity, here at the Hotel La Fete, it is easy to book a suite of rooms that vanish. Where diseases come and go then come back again and where any Reveler you desire will greet you in pidgin or patois, before speaking to you in tongues about their views concerning the state of the carnival world. Right when you are about to inquire further about masquerades and mud marches, hallucinations, cane-braking, back-breaking sweet skin and spirit orgies and what they all have to do with a foul, open sore called history, your Reveler disappears into a crack in the floor or wall and by some method that contradicts mainstream magic and solid, fact-based science, brings the entire room with him or her, leaving you, once again, loitering alone outside the Hotel La Fete. How many nights will you stay?
Goodman
Oh at ease, already. But wait a just an eighth of a minute, here. Nights? You can hear me? And see me, too?! You are so familiar. I am looking for a man called Officer Leopold. He’s a big, brown simple chap in red. A mealy apple of a man. But aren’t you he? You are and you aren’t. It is my duty then to offer you this warning: whenever a Swarthy Gentleman of the Law mounts a pious but anxious Octaroon, high yellow, brown paper bag and toothpick tinted, mud and red bone cherubs (fresh from the slum, mind you) pickaninny spirits, and cocoabird, chimney sweep angels fly south so fast in order to gather together in the darkest most heated place to wait for the opportunity to be born again into more acceptable skin. “Whatever that is,” they joke every time, as one of their lot lights a fat colorless candle in a glass, his, her or its eyes aflame. “Whatever that is…” Ruthie, yoo-hoo Ruthie! Listen to me! Look at me! How do I look? I’m here again, Girl. I’m here!
Goatwater
Copyright 2011
words and images by:
Tiffany Osedra Miller
all rights reserved.
Copyright 2011
words and images by:
Tiffany Osedra Miller
all rights reserved.
