Dragnet Magazine Issue Four

DR AGNET 2 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR Contact Info Staff Web dragnetmag.net Design Co-editors Email Andrew Battershill info@dragnetmag.net CoverJeremy Hanson-Finger Ali Hall Jena Karmali Facebook Logo Art Art Director facebook.com/dragnetmag J. McKee Illya Klymkiw Social Media Person Twitter Lauren Mitchell twitter.com/dragnetmag Tumblr dragnetmag.tumblr.com

DR AGNET 3 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR Contents Masthead Washing Down The Sojourner’s Lonely Night 2 by Ann Ward by Ian Turner 18 37 Editors’ Letter by Jeremy Hanson-Finger Jane Austen, German Breath 4 by Jeremy Woodcock by Will Johnson 20 38 Munchkins by Joseph Yachimec Greetings from the Atvian Miss Social Pleasurehole 1969 6 Happiness Academy by Rolli by Frances Barnet 39 Sadsquatch 23 by Ian Turner Horrible But Really Well Made 12 I Wish You Luck and by Matt Rowan Prosperity! 42The Sad Truth About the by Suzannah Showler Gingerbread Latte   27 The Haircut by Cristina Rizzuto by Gary Barwin 13 Dear Dragnet 46 by Ann Ward Cat: A List 29 Contributor Bios by Suzanne Sutherland 48 15 Grandpa by Deepa Jolly 32

DR AGNET 4 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUREditors’ Letter it still never reached you, so since then you’ve e xcitement, because what you’re overdue been avoiding the public library and just bor- for is story time with Uncle Dragnet. What’s by Jeremy Hanson-Finger rowing books from other people while the that, you say? Waiting for Uncle Dragnet cute library clerk checks your account every to come back hurts a little? You have to beH ey kidlets! It’s been almost day with greenbacks in her eyes, and some strong, kidlets, because Uncle Dragnet miss- five months since Issue Three, Canada Post or USPS employee enjoys the es you too. He’s been training, getting himself so you know you’re overdue, T oronto Public Library’s property, some ge- into shape. Which shape, you ask? Well, nowlike a library book you leant to a friend so nius who had calculated by the weight and Uncle Dragnet is a landscape-format rectan-he could read something while he was vis- dimensions of the package that it contained gle so he fits better on laptops and tablets—iting you, and who then forgot to return it exactly the book they’d been looking for, be- b cause he just loves having people look at eand flew back to Providence, RI, promising cause their friend had lost theirs, that same him. And you can still look at him in e-bookduring a Google Chat conversation the next really nice edition of Paul Auster’s New York format, and make the stories whatever sizeday to send it to you by mail but then get- Trilogy with the dark blue cover, which is a you want, from tall tales to micro-fiction.ting your address wrong and informing you damn good book and beautiful to boot, and So, yes, kidlets, 2012 is a new year, and, ac-that it had been returned to sender, but even this postal worker is reading it right now. cording to a Regina man the world’s notwhen he put the right address and sent it But this kind of overdue doesn’t cause going to end! All the more time to lookback out into the wilds of the postal system, you pain, financial or otherwise, just at Uncle Dragnet as he spins yarns

DR AGNET 5 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURthat may be about serious things but nevertake themselves too seriously. Happy NewYear!Love,Dragnet Magazine

DR AGNET 6 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR Munchkins “Hm,” I say, and pick up my airhole puncher. “Judgment, judgment,” murmur the other I am covered in sawdust-smelling sweat from munchkins from where they are sitting on by Joseph Yachimec pushing carts full of boxes full of munchkins the shelves. I run a hand through my sweaty around the shop floor. You need to punch at hair and feel the side of my head. I’ve noticedA s I finish putting the styrofoam least six holes on each flap and so I do, pap a bump lately above my ear, a split pea of gris- peanuts into the cardboard box, pap pap pap pap, pap pap pap pap pap. tle caught between the skin and the skull. It the munchkin says something. “He judges you even now, as you pack my worries me. I don’t need a bump on my head. “God sees what you are doing.” His breath body into this cardboard box,” he says. His Curt puts his labeler on the workbenchsmells like earl grey tea. He has gin blossoms eyes are the size of my thumbnails. They’re beside me and points to the clock and says,and he’s got a little red wool cap on. He comes placid but I suppose reproachful. It’s hard to “Lunchtime.” I follow him out, dropping myup about to my knee. He’s packed with his tell. labeler on the shelf next to a munchkin in aface upturned so that he can breathe through “Okay.” I close the box and tape the lid shut. leather vest. He has a broken wristwatch inthe holes that I will shortly be punching into I take out my label printer and I scan out a la- his hands and is turning it over and over.the lid of the box and that’s all I can see of bel and stick it to the side. It’s summer. This “Judgment, judgment,” murmur thehim. I can’t see his wool jerkin or tiny deer- is my summer job. I get paid eight dollars an munchkins from their shelves.skin pants or his pointy clogs. I can see only a hour. I’m okay with that. I have been fired Greasy midday light reflects from thebit of his beard, which is grey and bushy. twice in the past two months. quilted metal sides of the coffee truck. The

DR AGNET 7 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURlady who runs the truck is a half-grey, half- “Christ,” says my foreman, Death Metal Don Johnson. We call him Fat Don Johnson.peroxide South Ontario blue-collar kind of Mike. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Last week He always wears these really bright shirtslady. Pink and turquoise windbreaker with they sent a whole shipment back to us for the that he unbuttons about two buttons too far,racing checkers at the shoulders, aviators, second time. Czcibor, who owns the factory, which gives him a sort of swashbuckling vibe.“youse” for the plural “you,” Barrie Colts hat, started drinking again and Death Metal Mike When he comes in to check on the order heyou know. She sells native cigarettes on the found him passed out in the bed of his pickup sometimes brings his son with him. His sonside, packed into tight rhomboids, two hun- truck like a Polish starfish. is blond and blue-eyed and looks like a childdred per ziplock. “Fuckin’ guy,” she says. A rhomboid of na- of the corn and never speaks or smiles. We “Afternoon,” she says. I buy a wax-paper tive cigarettes changes hands. “Youse take call him The Overseer.pail of truck coffee, which is pre-sweetened care of yourselves.” She moves down the line Fat Don Johnson is here today. He doesn’tand comes from a nozzle mounted to a tank, to the trim-and-moulding place down the look pleased.like industrial insecticide. It tastes like what- road, on her way to the Polar Bear Hot Tub “Hey, little dude,” says Curt to The Over-ever the tank has been cleaned with and it Outlet. seer, who is standing completely still by amakes you a) feel alive though weirdly brittle The guy we’re doing this order for, the or- door, surveying the munchkins. The Over-and b) shit sulfuric acid. She likes to ask us der that’s just barely keeping the factory sol- seer observes him from beyond a vale of iceabout “the little guys.” vent, keeping me in all the luxury that eight with an evenness that transcends the petty “How are the little guys?” she asks us. bucks an hour can buy, looks exactly like a fat human.

DR AGNET 8 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR “Okay,” says Curt, “okay,” and walks away. his hands into the white-piped pockets of his “Okay.” Fat Don Johnson was talking with Milo, jeans. He nods. He walks over to me. “So, there’s kind of a problem, right? WithCzcibor’s son. Milo got his arm unzipped by “Hey, man, check this out. I just got a hot the order, again,” he says. “And we’re in someone of the machines in the factory and almost tub installed, right? From Polar Bear, next trouble, man. We’re not in a good place, we’rebled out right there on the floor. He likes to door. And I had this girl over, and I made up in a shitty place.”talk to us about all the girls he’s banged or a fuckin’ bitching drink, man. Check this out. Standard losing money, lack of seniority,really all the girls he’s thought about banging I call this one The Panty Remover,” he says. “I summer’s almost just started, you know. Iand some that come to his mind as he talks. used coconut rum. Girls fuckin’ love coconut nod.Also he likes to talk about drinks he’s made rum, right? And it doesn’t give you whiskey “So anyways, there’s grapefruit juice andup. A lot of the drinks are called The Panty dick, too.” like, uh, maraschino cherries in there, too,”Remover. “That a fact?” he says. Milo drove up in his champagne-coloured “Yeah, man. I mean, whiskey dick, right?” “Seniority, seniority,” murmur the munch-Mustang this morning. He only comes down “Whiskey dick, whiskey dick,” murmur the kins.on special occasions. He and Fat Don Johnson munchkins from their shelves.are having a Serious Discussion, and Milo is “Uh, okay,” he says. “Before I tell you, ***trying to appear Deep In Thought. He scuffs I should say I have to kind of change gearsthe long pointed toes of his shoes and puts here.”

Photo by Stephanie Coffey

DR AGNET 10 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURThe first job I got fired from was mostly sell- “I’ll get right on it.” he’d say. “Now I want plastic-wrapped stacks of asphalt shingles uping Lego for less than minimum wage. I think you to put your branded hat back on. Go and down the ladder became agony as theirmy boss had been a pedophile of some sort. hook us some fish.” edges tore into my frying shoulders. One ofRunning a Lego-related robot camp was “Hooking fish” was going out into the mall the guys had only three fingers on each hand.more of a honeypot situation—maybe sepa- and approaching kids and asking them if they One of the guys had got stung by bees and hisrate the kids from their parents, distract them wanted to make a robot. Their parents, who face looked like a bag full of cottage cheese.with bricks and then take them back to the mostly I didn’t look at, would try to melt my They fired me in the parking lot on the wayDiscovery Room. face with their eyes. I was not good at fishing into Boston Pizza for Fishbowl Fridays. “If you get really excited it’s okay for you to, and after two weeks I was fired by his expres- Then we had three shots in a fishbowl filleduh, scream like a girl,” he’d suggested once, in sionless Asperger’s girlfriend for being five up with whatever kind of pop you like andpassing, and I would have asked him about minutes late. She didn’t see me fitting in. they each had a schooner and drove me homethat but he was off to have a coffee in the mall “I don’t see you fitting in here at Mind- down the highway, the van doing a hundredand I was left waiting, unable to hold my arms works,” she’d said. and fifty, me sliding around in a folding rugbynaturally at my sides because of the smallness I got fired from my roofing job after a chair and eyeing the five-hundred-pound airof my branded shirt. I asked him a few times day of picking up roof trash from a lawn in compressor behind me and listening to themfor a shirt that fit me and didn’t make me look sun so hot I could smell my skin braising. It talk about cheating on their wives and girl-like a cartoon gorilla butler but never got one. smelled like turkey and sawdust. Carrying the friends, and watching the sun deposit itself

DR AGNET 11 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURlike a flaming coin into the horizon behind There is a munchkin sitting on the shelf There’s a sort of fake room set up. A bed-the Bulk Barns and Home Depots, as if to die. next to the punch-out stamp. His eyes are room with polished aluminum floor lamps like blackberry pips. and mahogany paneled particleboard night- *** “You are not absolved,” he says. stands, his and hers, and an uncovered mat- There are no buses in the middle of the day tress with an uncovered spiky therapeutic pil-“Man, think about it, like, you get an early back to town and I don’t really want to talk low on it, foam porcupine on a floral-stitchedday, right?” says Milo. to anyone so I walk into North Star Furni- rock. “Okay,” I say. I want to say goodbye to ture, which is run by a former-high-school- I lie down there on the uncovered mattressCurt and Death Metal Mike but I can’t see football-star kind of guy. Short hair, has com- like a starfish with my steel-toe boots point-Death Metal Mike and Curt has started pack- mercials where he becomes the Hulk and ing at the chip-pink ceiling panels and waiting again. I can see him through the plastic fights high prices, no money down, you know. for security to come and carry me away.strips that divide Processing from Packing. It’s quiet in there, in the teal and green worldHe’s holding a munchkin at arm’s length. The of mattresses and dressers and potential hu-munchkin is kicking its legs and just basically man spaces infinitely preserved. It smells likenot going into the box. I wave and he sort of dust. The light falls quietly through stainedstands there, the munchkin kicking away, and windows. Everybody is on lunch or some-I punch out. thing.

DR AGNET 13 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR The Sad Truth improved version of himself. Like a butter- his own, and this child will hear his father About the fly rising gracefully from a cocoon, a flower painfully whisper last words on his deathbed, blooming in afternoon sunlight, the birth of and wonder why love has to end so sadly. Like Gingerbread a child, the gingerbread man underwent an every beautiful story you’ve ever heard, such Latte irreversible transformation, a catharsis that is the reality of life: the end comes after the by Cristina Rizzuto can only be altered again through death. beginning. The butterfly will traverse vast blue skies, A not-so-small note on beginnings andT he gingerbread man disinte- gently soaring upon the subtle breath of endings: do not believe people who use the grated today. Mother Earth, until, one day, it will be caught phrase “new beginning.” They are referring to   decided that he’d had He in a gust of wind and thrust into a river to overcoming little things that come to a close,enough of his mundane, gingerbread man life, drown. The flower will flourish vibrantly, like a relationship or a car debt or a vacationridiculously adorned with the unbearable, drinking in the sun, waving its delightfully or something along those lines. It’s not a “newtiny squiggles of an empty smile, currants for curvy stem to the beat of our footsteps pass- beginning”—it’s simply a new day. A new dayeyes and cherries for buttons. He gasped for ing by. And, over time, it will begin to stoop to embrace and cherish, of course, but not aair, for a sense of release, choking on his own in old age, wilting back into the earth, its pet- new beginning. The beginning already hap-mediocrity. Today, he reincarnated as the als wrinkled, its pollen barren and dry. The pened, and it has already affected the rest ofmouth-watering gingerbread latte, a fancier, child will become a man and have a child of those small endings that will come, and, in

DR AGNET 14 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURgood ways and bad, those small endings will many molecules thrust apart and back togeth- a frothy life floating around like memories.affect you and everything else that follows, er with every sloshy sip. He is dancing, laugh- I heard him then, gasping for air, biddingincluding all the “new beginnings” you try to ing, cavorting with sugar particles and mak- Time to drift backwards so that he might bemake. Don’t be discouraged—this is a won- ing babies with the whipped cream. Dancing, a squiggly-faced, currant-eyed gingerbreadderful thing. It builds character and history laughing. What a joyous life he has chosen! man once again.and confidence. One learns from history. Transformation is happiness, he thinks, while And I drank every last drop.Best to accept one’s choices, smile or cry over staring up at the beautiful bright lights of thethe happy and the sad, and carry on a better coffee shop. Distant Christmas music can beperson. A better person is preferred. Such is heard in the background, a woman asks forthe reality of life, as we all well know. honey in her tea, and the gingerbread man- Anyway, back to the gingerbread man: the turned-latte sways blissfully to the rhythmicgingerbread man, unfortunately, did not know sound of fingers clicking against a laptop.any of the aforesaid truths about beginnings. Soon there is only a spoonful of the ginger-If he had, perhaps he would not have sought bread man left in my cup, his last momentsa tastier life as a gingerbread latte. Reveling in the epitome of despair—a wretched body,his new state of latte-ness, he swims through the stains of red lipstick swirling in menac-this hideously bland, non-recyclable cup, his ing patterns upon his remains, debris from

DR AGNET 15 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR CAT: A LIST 5. Quiches are pretty good. 12. You shouldn’t try to butter your blueberry bagel before putting it in the by Suzanne Sutherland 6. I like those tiny ones, mini quiches. toaster.1. A cat is not a pizza pie. 7. The ones they serve at baby showers 13. You shouldn’t tell your boyfriend, and wedding showers. whom you just moved in with last week, that2. A traditional pizza, or at least the kind you are going out to pick up a pizza pie andthat I traditionally order, really doesn’t 8. You know, feminine-type formal instead pick up a cat.resemble a pie at all. gatherings. 14. Especially if your boyfriend is allergic.3. I traditionally order pizza with 9. It’s probably not a great idea to eat piepineapple and mushrooms. You wouldn’t in the shower. 15. To cats.think that they’d taste good together, butthey do. I traditionally order an extra large 10. But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try. 16. Even if your boyfriend says silly thingspizza so that I’ll have lots of leftovers. like “pizza pie” and “cellular telephone” 11. You shouldn’t try to fit your house key instead of “pizza” or “cell phone” like4. A quiche is more or less a pie. into an electric socket in your apartment. everybody else.

DR AGNET 16 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR17. And he says them so much that you 24. Max likes putting cinnamon in his the cat who my friend was trying to givestart saying those silly things too. coffee and in his soup. Max likes closing his away because her other cat, her old cat, eyes on the walk home from the bar and Minxy, didn’t like him, and who she18. So you make up your own sort of testing how long he can put one foot in front happened to have with her at that verylanguage. of the other, trusting his inebriated sense of moment on the street near the pizza place, space, before opening his eyes again. Max was in a cat carrier and had soft grey fur and19. Like Pig Latin or Klingon or Esperanto. likes The Neverending Story III. cool green eyes and was not a pizza pie.20. Only no one has ever suggested that 25. Max is allergic. 29. Though he did have pointy ears.silly couple talk become an internationallanguage. 26. To cats. 30. Like a Vulcan.21. That would be weird. 27. And I should have remembered that. It 31. See: made-up languages, Klingon. was a Very Important Thing to remember.22. I’m kind of weird. 32. Which I know aren’t the same thing, 28. The cat I picked up, the cat I adopted but they’re at least in the same universe,23. But so is Max. from a friend who I ran into on the street, right?

DR AGNET 17 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR 33. I liked Star Wars better. kiss me goodbye or tell me where he was 43. And hope that Max will come home to going, which he almost always does now his home, and maybe mine soon, soon. 34. See: cuteness, Ewoks. that we live together, now that for the last week we have been living together in his 44. If I haven’t screwed things up too badly. 35. But Max likes Star Trek. apartment, his apartment in which he so sweetly made space for my clothes and 45. And maybe if I’m willing to watch 36. And he got mad when I brought the cat my toothbrush and my collection of other Wrath of Khan again. home. people’s birthday cards. 37. And he was very hurt that I had 41. And I have been sitting on Max’s couch forgotten the Very Important Thing. and drinking Max’s orange juice and talking to Bastian, which is the name I gave the grey 38. That he is allergic. cat, and telling him that I’m sorry I took him home with me, but it wasn’t really my home 39. To cats. to take him to, at least not yet. 40. So he left this morning and didn’t even 42. So I’m going to bring Bastian back.Illustrations by Illya Klymkiw

DR AGNET 18 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR Washing says he can deliver the order himself and I say into smudge. Down no thank you, I have to go out anyway. I tell Len calls and tells me that my food has myself I am not going to trade sex for Gen- been ready for twenty minutes, and that it is by Ann Ward eral Tao Tofu, and to remember this I write it really no problem to come by and he is done across Martha’s face with a dying Sharpie and his shift anyway. I say okay because I am hun-I have not done dishes in four weeks. tape it to my TV. gry. Len says he knows where I live and I say My sink is disgusting. I try to avoid the I sit on the couch and stare at a smudge how and he says because you let me walk kitchen. I look at dishwashers in a Ca- on the wall by the door frame and wonder if you home that night you were really drunk.nadian Tire flyer. They are mostly one thou- maybe it’s a bug, and if it is, what kind of bug, I kissed you on your drunk cheek, he says.sand dollars. They are slick and have names a beetle or maybe a dark little spider. But I That’s right, I say, I remember now.like the names of spas. I look at a grainy pic- know it’s a smudge because this is the spot I Len buzzes and then he is there with myture of Martha Stewart holding a very white stare at all the time, wondering if maybe it’s a order and a six-pack and we sit on the couch.plate. I think about throwing all of my dishes bug. He laughs at Martha’s advice. He has a tall yo-away. Martha dares me to. Her smile says din- I put my hand on my crotch and I can gourt container of fried rice. We eat the foodnerware. Her eyes say 4-piece place settings. feel a pulse, and it’s comforting somehow, a and drink the beer and he goes to the kitchen I call my takeout place and ask for Len pulse there, so I just sit with my hand down to rinse his yogourt container and tells meand order. I ask him for extra chopsticks. He my pants like so many TV husbands, staring that my sink stinks.

DR AGNET 19 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR In the doorway to the living room finger, and say Raisin Fingers. He tells me rai-he rolls up his sleeves and asks me if I want sins wrinkle because they are shrinking, butto wash or dry. He crosses his arms. I take wet fingers wrinkle because they are gettingthe dishtowel from the oven-door handle bigger. and tell him dry. We look into the sink. Len brings me back to the couch. His hands The water is opaque. It smells. It feel soft and waterlogged. He kisses me on smells like it should be the garbage can my drunk cheek. He looks at me and I look at smelling, but it is the sink water. Len Martha and this time her smile still says din- plunges. I wait. I hold my Historic nerware but her eyes say go for it. I tell him his Houses of Hitchin tea towel like I’m hands smell of sour milk. I tell him he is a tall about to welcome a toddler from the yogourt container of fried rice. He tells me tub. shush, your hair smells like pork. He tells me We are okay at this. I scrape at least that sink of yours is no longer disgust- the back of my hand on a spaghetti- ing. His mouth is soft and waterlogged. Our server claw, and Len cuts a wet finger stink settles. on chipped glass, but we are okay. We finish. I put a Band-Aid on Len’s Photo by Andrew Hammerand

DR AGNET 20 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR Jane Austen, ruuth, nor her graceful jabs at convention summer social, instead finding themselves German and hegemony, were developed entirely after driven to violent action. Those potential she and the rest of the family made the move male partners—after a few days of courtship, by Jeremy Woodcock to John Bull’s island late in her teen years. witty banter, and existential brooding— There were, however, as there always are, would similarly find themselves raging at theT he novels of Jane Austen— concessions that had to be made. It has been heavens and cursing God’s barren nature, all when read in the original Ger- said that William Shakespeare would have of which would regularly disrupt that after- man—are marvels of economy, been successful in any age, because he would noon’s kaffeeklatsch.simplicity, and the kind of good humour not have taken the materials and subjects avail- Consider Mr. Darcy’s “repugnance” at thetypically expected from an author who came able to him and made them work. Two hun- Bennet family’s “total want of propriety” in theof age at the height of the German Question. dred years and a Duisberg port away, Austen anglicized Pride and Prejudice. In his angst weIndeed, from the naming of her first book on- held true to this spirit, melding her preferred can see faint shades of his scenes of impotentward (rather than the more traditional Sinn drawing-room comedies seamlessly with the rage upon on the mountaintop in the original,und Sinnlichkeit, the precocious young author prevailing Sturm und Drang aesthetic. Young Ein Mädchen, Was Auf Dieser Erde Ist Ihr Platzstylized it as Zenze n’ Uberzenze), her work female heroines hoping for the attention [A Girl, What On This Earth Is Her Place!?].shows us that neither the sense of whimsy we of suitors were hesitant to play coy at their And Mansfield Park—written on the danger-associate with the erstwhile Johanna Östen- p ianofortes and await invitations to the local ous sea voyage twixt her two homelands, and

DR AGNET 21 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURthus the one full-length example of her inter- to be spurned altogether upon her arrival in By the time of Emma’s publication, shekontinental period which also included the the country of George III, it contained many was a new woman, the writer the world nownow-lost novella Ein Mord, Ein Wald Ho- knows, and this is also the nature of thechzeit [A Murder, A Forest Wedding] and a Austen held true to this spirit, melding her widely known posthumously publishedseries of poems ruminating on the concept preferred drawing-room comedies seamlessly and unfinished works. But here is not theof “staleness”—is no charming Dickensi- with the prevailing Sturm und Drang place, nor now the time, to speak of the aesthetic.an underdog tale, however much it would bronze poisoning that might have killedappear to take aim at the quirks and vagaries hallmarks of the Prusso-Austen style, as if she her, incurred when she and her brother Fran-of class structure. The tome’s vehement anti- wanted to purge her pen of all vestiges of this cis (Franz) spent months etching Frederickaristocratic tone is an oddly timed move by sense of existentialism and ecstasy before the the Great’s triumph at the Battle of Hohen-Austen (the name was changed by deed poll full shift to a new language. Indeed, the last friedberg; it is the time to leave the readerin international waters) to be accepted by the three hundred dialogue-less pages, consist of with a mention of the parchment that wasWeimar Classicists. Though the German ver- Fanny Price sitting in a room across from her never spoken of, and was “lost” soon aftersion she crafted concurrently—Edmund, Wie imagined lover. Two hundred times she of- Austen’s passing. Elizabeth, Muss Immer SieLeer Ihre Gewinne [Edmund, How Vacant Your fers him a cup of tea. Two hundred times he Fluch Der Blitz [Elizabeth, Always Must SheTriumph]—did away with her customary refuses, and asks instead for tea. Curse the Lightning] sees the return of Mrs.violence, something she knew would have Bennet—sans Darcy, departed forever to

DR AGNET 22 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURcopy the works of Goethe in a simple coun-try monastery—who at the close of the booksteps to a cliff ’s edge, and is presented withthe possibility of either suicide or marriageto a man she does not love nor know. Onecould furnish many reasons why Jane Austenwould choose one ending or the other. But itshould not surprise you that in this text, Jo-hanna Östenruuth did not take the easy wayout. She chose both.Ende. Illustration by Illya Klymkiw

DR AGNET 23 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURGreetings Jeff Miller It really is beautiful. Yesterday we ate dinnerfrom the 300 Delinelle looking onto the lake and saw an actual deer! Montreal QC I guess what I want to say is just that I’ve Atvian H4C 3A9 been thinking a lot lately, and I really feel thatHappiness just because things didn’t work out between Academy us romantically doesn’t have to suddenly dis- Dear Jeff, count the fact that we are both Children ofby Frances Barnet The Elohim and I would hate to think that Hi! It’s me! Greetings from the Atvian Hap- your resentment towards me would ever get piness Academy! How are you doing? Well, I in the way of the realization of your full spiri- hope. You’re probably a little bit surprised to tual potential. Because I truly believe that hear from me, huh? I guess I just wanted to you, tree planter by summer, grocery store see how you’re doing. Did you go tree plant- cashier by winter, aspiring screenplay writer ing again this summer? I bet you did. You al- all year round, are a special creation, and I ways did love tree planting. That’s probably a quiver with excitement even trying to imag bit of why I’ve been thinking of you so much ine all of the things you and your clones are lately, being up here in the country at all. capable of.

DR AGNET 24 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR Here at the Atvian Happiness Academy we dresser drawer the day your roommate let me a temporary vessel. I thought about all of theare serious about being happy. That’s one of in to pick up my stuff. It was about a boy and bodies I have had and will have. I thoughtthe things that being an Atvian is all about, a girl and how the saddest thing in the world about whether any of the trees surrounding usfeeling good all of the time. Most of July and is when character one starts to believe in the were your trees, as if the things that we touchAugust I spent just exploring my body. Atvi aliens and character two doesn’t. I left a pair belong to us, which is preposterous becausethinks that I’m making some real progress of socks under your bed. everything belongs to The Elohim. Atvi said,working through the abandonment issues I Because we’re all going to live forever we “Can you feel that? Flying over us in theirwas left with when you broke up with me. It’s don’t have to worry about things like sun- space ships. Say hello to Yawh!” and we said,quite startling how little gets done when mas- burns so when Atvi led us into the clearing “Hello, Yawh, we love you!” And Atvi said,turbating becomes such a high priority but for sensual meditation we didn’t even no- “Can you hear that? Yawh loves you too!”when you consider that we, as Children of tice or care about the UV exposure. We lay The cabins are made out of wood and whenThe Elohim, are going to live forever, it’s best down in the grass and Atvi said, “Close your it rains it smells for days. I share a bunk bednot to sweat the small stuff. So yeah, I guess eyes and picture yourself as a seven-year-old with a woman named Bridget who says thatyou could say that I’m doing pretty well. child swimming with dolphins in the Atlan- the thing about living forever she is most ex- I know that you’re angry with me for letting tic Ocean.” He said, “The dolphins are your cited about are the advances that are sure tomy beliefs get in the way of our relationship. friends and you tell each other jokes and laugh be made in the evolution of the domesticated I found the short story you wrote in your top and dance.” I thought about how my body is cat. She says, “Just look what they’ve done

DR AGNET 25 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURwith the canine,” and pulls out of her wallet a hands in front of characters three through The Elohim’s drive to the backwoods and thephotograph of a Great Dane sitting beside a seventy-four. inside of The Elohim’s vagina.Chihuahua. “Can you imagine? A cat the size That night I dreamt I was in a forest full The Atvian Happiness Academy ends inof a small child and what if we taught them to of your trees and our bodies were really our three days. I guess I’ll go back to the city andstand on their hind legs?” bodies. The sky was blue and the grass was spend the rest of eternity just feeling good. Before I went to sleep last night I found a moist. Character two tells character one he If you’d ever like to feel good together some-ladybug squished between my toes. I thought, wishes he didn’t have to go tree planting be- time then that would be nice. If you’re toowhat a way to die, but then I remembered cause the backwoods of northern Quebec busy feeling good by yourself, or feeling goodthat nothing dies, not really. If everyone is are not as soft as character one’s body, on the with someone else or making a conscious de-masturbating then it is kind of like no one is outside and the inside. cision not to feel good at all, then that’s okaymasturbating. Because it’s not the same type If we’re going to live forever it is okay to pre- too. But you should know that The Elohimof naked when you’re naked the whole time. tend for a little while. The forest full of your is always thinking about you and thinking Character two tells character one she has trees. Your fists full of my hair. Cats the size about you all the time. Thinking about youthe softest body of all of the girls that charac- of cats and dolphins who keep to themselves. makes The Elohim shaky—we’ve been shak-ter two has ever known. Character two would But when I pretend, The Elohim is pretend- ing this whole letter. None of the letters arelike character one to be his girlfriend and ing too. The Elohim’s trees and The Elohim’s right.take her to parties and music shows and hold ladybug. The Elohim’s comparison between Sincerely, Stephanie

Illustration by Nikin Nagewadia

DR AGNET 27 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR I Wish You Luck and Prosperity! by Suzannah ShowlerDear Friend,This letter was born of the hand of a doctor of Dutch-Polynesian descentwho carried in his blood the ancient mysteries of the guildthat wrought the guardians of Easter Island from unyielding stone.You are holding a coiled-up shot of luck and prosperityready to launch at you like a spring snake from a nut can!Within five days of receiving this letter,you must send it on to five friends upon whose handthe touch of bounty belongs, and within one weekyou will be haunted by blessings more persistentthan a knife-seller earning a commission.

DR AGNET 28 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURHere is definite proof:Within four days of mailing his letters, Nevin learnedthat he had been selected by a panel of qualified juristsfor a one-million dollar prize of no known origin.He relocated to an equatorial slap of land couched inthe Pacific’s bluest stretch and now lives out his leisure dayscasting golf balls towards each cardinal direction in turn.Marcy did not pass this letter on, and she suffered boilsthat sprouted from beneath the banks of her fingernailsand spread to all she touched.Her husband’s infected testicles bolted into his abdomenand have not since descended.This letter has been around the world eleven times already!Stay true to its instructions, and luck will stroke youas surely as a lonely widow strokes a cat.DO NOT BREAK THE CHAIN!

DR AGNET 29 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR Dear Dragnet Dear Dragnet, Do you think he is lying about his child- I need some advice. I started writing that hood? About climbing up a lookout tree ev- by Ann Ward sea captain story we discussed. It’s not much ery few hours for days until he saw that fair of a story yet, but I’m getting pretty into my ship, the one that was to bear him away, glid-Ann Ward Dragnet Magazine  character, Archie Finn. (I tried to change his ing up on a fresh northerly breeze? What c/o Jeremy Hanson-Finger last name to Shin, because Finn sounds a bit, tricks he likes to play!Montreal, QC 721A Palmerston Ave. you know, fishy, for a sea captain, but it just Just today, I saw Archie in the Montreal Toronto, ON kept being Finn in my head, and so I kept it.) metro! (I think, Dragnet, you refer to it as aCanada   M6G 2R2 Since Archie Finn’s been around, my life’s “subway” or a “sky train” or something exotic Canada become a bit nautical. And, dear Dragnet, like that.) I got on the green line and there he I’ve become a bit more of a creep. A couple of was! Sitting right in front of me! I stood clutch- weeks ago, I was reading about Archie’s child- ing the cold metal pole and staring down at hood in the early 1800s. But in my story, he’s him. Incidentally, there was another man in his sixties in present-day coastal Oregon! holding my pole—a very smelly young man What’s happening to me? Why is he slipping who appeared to be coming from the gym, me falsified reading material? only the gym must have been a gym where the shower water is replaced with old-person

DR AGNET 30 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURpee, because that is how he smelled. Oh, did Dragnet, on some lonely evening when all Dragnet, I wanted to slap her! “HE’S not thehe smell, Dragnet! you had was reruns and a big bag of Cheetos. stinky one!” I wanted to shout. Now, beside Archie there was a hunched, John Mahoney. It’s a good thing he was on Archie watched her go like he was expect-unpleasant-looking collegiate, who was star- it, because they needed some testosterone on ing it. He turned a little red, in the cheeks areaing at my protagonist and wrinkling her nose. that program! Am I right? Anyway, Archie is I mean, then looked down at his fingernailsImagine my horror when I realized that she like a John Mahoney who maybe hasn’t eaten and started picking them.believed my Captain Finn was the olfacto- Though I was still suspicious about how Since Archie Finn’s been around, mylife’sry offender, and not Stinky Steve, who was my Archie came to be in Montreal, I hoped become a bit nautical. And, dear Dragnet,standing only a foot away from her. he would get off at the same stop as me. And I’ve become a bit more of a creep. I looked at Archie, who seemed unaware Dragnet, he did! And so did a lot of otherof the nose-scruncher until she began lift- enough lately, but still has a gut. Skinny arms people, who I had to push through violentlying her right hand to her wretched face and and legs. And his skin, it’s bad. Like maybe in order to be close behind him. He took thelightly pinching her nostrils. I wanted to say, it used to be all leathery from the sun on the escalators two at a time! I nearly lost him on“Whoa, Arch, are you gonna take this?” ship, but now it’s paler and kind of, well, spot- the second set of moving stairs because of (I also wanted to tell him that he looked re- ty.) an unfortunate clothing choice I had mademarkably like Fraser Crane’s father from the So here’s the worst part: we get to a stop, this morning, but when I pushed open theshow Fraser. I’m sure you’ve seen that show, and nose-scruncher goes and changes her seat! huge awkward twisty doors into the muggy

DR AGNET 31 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURMontreal afternoon, he was in front of me. His Finn forgot who made him. He forgot aboutright hand shaded his eyes in what looked like the girl who knows, who will always knowa sea captain’s salute. But he was in search of (oh dearest Arch) that he doesn’t smell.whatever bus would take him home. “LOOK Dragnet, I await your kind wisdom.AT ME,” I thought-demanded at him. Hewouldn’t. He made an easterly jump, but just Sincerely,as I let that decide my direction he headednorth, and slipped away from me forever. Ann Ward I watched him go. “I know you’re not theone who smelled,” I said quietly to myself.I went home, and tried to forget about realA rchie and instead work on my sea captainstory for Dragnet. But I knew he was in Mon-treal, not in Oregon. And I knew he wasn’tfeeling very happy. I never said he could come here. Why aren’tthey listening to me anymore? It’s like Archie

DR AGNET 32 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR Grandpa coming towards you on the street, keep walk- We entered the video store. There was a ing. Just keep the hell on walking.” mob, but I wasn’t worried about losing Grand- by Deepa Jolly I agreed as usual and the hood became si- pa. He was easy enough to spot. My grandfa- lent. ther was a chocolate-brown man with pureG randpa sat in the back seat Grandpa usually spent six months in Can- white hair—a five-foot-two walking negative and zipped his parka right up to ada and six months in India. But this time who made two trips to the video store a week binocular vision. It was a state- we brought him back before the spring thaw. and who enjoyed calling adolescents, withment. I think what bothered him most wasn’t the the exception of me, “little bastards”. They We pulled into the strip mall. There was a cold, but that nobody believed him when he were pack animals and Grandpa was a lonecouple kissing just outside Pick it and Flick it said his heart was fine. Just fine. wolf. I never understood it, but despite hisVideo. Mom said our goal was to keep him calm. apparent disdain for teenagers, Grandpa en- I’m not sure how Grandpa saw them, but Keep him cool. joyed surprising his favourite “little bastards”his voice funnelled through his faux-fur hood “Try to get a light comedy,” Mom said to every month with a freshly baked delicacy heas if he were God speaking through a mega- me as Grandpa shuffled out of the car. “Just had slaved over. I’d watch him in the market,phone. “Rehka. Do not fill your head up with don’t let him pick it. And don’t be too long, picking out each fleshy fruit for sweetnessboys and hanky-panky. Concentrate on your the engine’s on.” and scent and hand grating cinnamon sticksstudies. If you see a big hunk of masculinity for close to an hour. A ginger-peach loaf one

DR AGNET 33 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURweek. Rice pudding with cardamom the next. shopping. People waiting at hot-dog stands. “My point is that the injustices of the worldAll personally delivered. Whenever the kid People standing in line at the theatre—all are damn near poetic. So stop the hell whin-behind the counter commented on how deli- of them knocked into cold white comas,” he ing, you poor little bastard.”cious it was, Grandpa would say, “I crack eggs said. When we got home, Grandpa put the ket-and heads the same. So stay in school.” “And?” asked the boy in line. tle on, laid a quilt over me, and popped in the Grandpa re-emerged from the crowd tri- “And somewhere I bet there’s some sissy video.umphantly holding his video selection in his kid who feels short-changed that he got one A grainy 1970s news reporter in Florence,right hand: Top 5 Amazing Animal Explosions. of those mechanical acrobatic dogs—a cheap Oregon, introduced us to the mass of dead Waving his purple privilege card, he by- squeaky ‘dogbot’ for Christmas—instead of beached sperm whale behind him. The Or-passed the line and went to the front desk. a real live puppy.” egon Highway Division was going to blowThere was a boy in line who didn’t know who “Yeah so?” it up to dispose of the eight-ton rotting car-Grandpa was and protested. “The insect community are the biggest vic- cass. The hope was that by disintegrating the Grandpa responded in classic form: tims of roadkill, but they don’t get any sym- mammal, scavengers would feed on the de- “There are pigeons in this city,” Grandpa pathy votes,” said Grandpa. bris. They used twenty cases of dynamite andstarted. “Clumsy idiot pigeons that will ac- “Okay, okay—what’s your point?” it rained blubber for 250 miles.cidently fly dead-on into the heads of unsus- “Are you having a whale of a time?” askedpecting urban dwellers—people window- Grandpa.

“Stop it,” I said. summer there was an influx of crows in the “Come on. You know I’m your favourite area, and the result was that one thousandPun-dit.” toads popped like bubble wrap in the span of “That was painful,” I said. “So painful.” three hours—their innards hurled as far as a “If it’s not punny, it’s not funny,” said metre.Grandpa. “Did you hear about the girl who swal- We could hear Mom clunking at the top of lowed the frog?” said Grandpa.the stairwell and held our breath. We were “Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.”afraid that she was going to come down to “She croaked.”the basement and discover that we had lied Mom’s ankles snapped down the stairs.about renting Xanadu. Grandpa shut everything off just in time. It was a false alarm. “It’s time to take your medicine,” Mom said, We watched the second explosion. This one offering Grandpa a little pillbox and a glass ofhad to do with the Altona toad in the district water. I was reminded, for the first time in aof Hamburg. The voice-over told us toads long while, that he wasn’t well—his small pa-swell up to three and half times their normal pery hands cupping the glass like a child.size as a form of self-defence. Apparently one

DR AGNET 35 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR Grandpa stayed through the winter and his jacket, Milo’s dog collar. He put reflective One morning I saw old Mr. Kopolousspring and when the summer hit, he gained tape on my tennis shoes and the cuffs of my coasting down the street in his new motor-a new kind of fame. Actually, that was true of jacket. Every night we walked two blocks as ized wheelchair.pretty much every summer he stayed. part of Grandpa’s exercise regimen. From a Grandpa was wearing his bathrobe and Two summers ago Grandpa volunteered distance, we watched our neighbours watch baseball cap at the edge of our driveway, flail-to give haircuts to the homeless as one of his us—the glow of our disembodied parts floating his arms and screaming, “Stop, bloodyrandom acts of charity. He set up a booth by ing down Cherryoak Street, flicking on and hell! Goddamn speed demon! Hey, Hotthe mission house, but wore surgical gloves off as we moved from shadow to lamplight. Wheels, get back here!”because he said he didn’t know where they’d And now there’s this summer. Grandpa is I watched everything from my window. Mr.been. known as the weatherman because appar- Kopolous stopped, made a three-point turn, Last summer Grandpa earned his fame by ently he can predict the weather days before and greeted Grandpa with a big toothy smile.putting reflective tape on everything after the network channel. He’d write out the fore- “Oh hello, Mr. Fernandez! “ he said. “Enjoy-spotting a flattened squirrel one night at the cast in coloured chalk on our driveway until ing your morning?”edge of our street. Nighttime driving had its his knees weren’t strong enough to take the “We’re going to have a freak hailstorm. Youcasualties so to be on the safe side Grandpa concrete. The messages would say things like need to get into my garage right now. It’s notput reflective tape on the brim of his base- “June 5, 21 degrees, high wind gusts, 20 miles safe out here,” said Grandpa.ball cap, the stem of his cane, the elbows of per hour. Bring a brush or join a band.”

DR AGNET 36 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR Within a minute, chunks of ice shot from “What?” I said. him mention my grandmother since she diedthe sky with machine-gun fire. “The only way they can see it is if they look seven years before. He carried her passport Grandpa was always dead-on with the at the reflection in a pool of mud.” with him in a small tin box, as if it were theweather. When I asked him how he did it he There were a few things Grandpa had mas- ashes of someone famous.said he just knew. And that was that. tered—the slow clap, supernatural weather “Be sure to take care of your mother,” he Yesterday was the last day of July. Last prediction, and random trivia he attained said, and his words hung the way a tooth dan-night, I watched Grandpa during his evening from hours at the public library. gles before it falls.walk look up at the sprinkling of stars in the He told me to stay put on the driveway, The sky was littered with lights last night—deep thick black. went inside, and brought out a blanket and each star appeared to move and neither I noticed over the past few weeks, his a small plate of homemade gingersnaps, his Grandpa nor I could pull our eyes away frombreathing got harder; his heart moving like hands shaking the entire time. them. All the while, I had this strange ver-small bird. In the lamplight he looked like an We put our lawn chairs at the edge of our tigo sitting next to him that I couldn’t quiteold mosaic—sublime and time-chipped. driveway so we could get a better view of the place—like we were teetering on the edge We stopped on our driveway. The air was sky. of a highway overpass, or sitting still in a ca-soaked in a syrup of blossoms. “You know,” he said, “you remind me of noe looking miles down through clear water. “Did you know,” he said, “that it’s physical- your grandmother. You have her walk and her That feeling where falling and floating is veryly impossible for pigs to look up at the sky?” handwriting.” It was the first time I had heard much the same thing.

DR AGNET 38 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR Breath by Will JohnsonL isa likes her yoga teacher. She loves the way sweat dangles from his curls. Sometimes she has to suppress the urge to catch a drop in her mouth. She’s not very good at being in the moment. She feels stuck, mostly because she hates working at a loan store. Mr. Money,we get you cash fast. Her boyfriend makes her practice her postures in the spare room while hewatches TV. It’s crowded with boxes and old guitars and she finds it impossible to focus. Most ofthe time she just smokes pot and lies on her back. Then she can really feel each breath. While herboyfriend is on tour Lisa goes on a sushi date with her teacher. That night they kiss on his couchand he takes off her shirt. She wants to tell him to slow down, but instead she lets him fuck her onthe floor. His breath smells like sake. He pads out of the room and she can feel the rough scruff ofthe carpet against her neck. Her chest rises and sinks. When he drops her off in front of her apart-ment he kisses her on the ear and says, “Namaste.” At the loan store she works the cash registerand lets moments slip by one after another. She knows that no breath is more important than anyother. Her boyfriend finds her blue yoga mat under a pile of dirty laundry.

DR AGNET 39 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR Miss Social But does anyone stop to ask, “What?” “What via the silver key, I watched them watch it— Pleasurehole are you putting in your social pleasureholes?” harvesting invisible wheat, sticking in imagi- What’s important. When I was named Miss nary mud—staring and staring with the di- 1969 Social Pleasurehole 1969, I wasn’t strutting lated wonder of young boys. by Rolli around the block dragging my social plea- On Day Two, when they asked more or less surehole behind me like the overstuffed sac the same question, I simply closed my eyes,W henever people ask me, of a television bank robber, no. No—I was concentrated, and then… “Hey! Weren’t you Miss So- listening. I was hearing. Some people hear the A pink balloon emerged from my social cial Pleasurehole 1969?” my call of god. I heard the call of “What?” I heard pleasurehole, a helium balloon, with a silveranswer is always, “Yes! I was! Thank you! For the call—and I listened. ribbon, and soared upwards, growing smaller,remembering! I was Miss Social Pleasurehole So when the judges, on Day One, asked the judges rising, shielding their eyes, looking1969!” me, “Well, Vanna, what do you have for us in upwards, squinting, in wonder, in wonder… Do I sound old, but in those days, it was dif- your social pleasurehole today?” I was able to Do I even need to bother with Day Three?ferent. It wasn’t like it is today. Regarding so- smile, take a breath, and answer, “A vintage On Day Three, the Swimsuit Competition,cial pleasureholes, all today’s young girls care mechanical tractor toy, circa 1890. Bergen & as I lay on my back, floating, I simply part-about is how much. “I can fit 10 lbs!” “I can fit Bergen, manufacturers.” And reaching down ed my legs, and sans the help of one muscle,20!” “Well, I can fit 38.5 kg” (Europeans), etc. and withdrawing the tractor, winding it up

DR AGNET 40 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURof any outward motion, propelled from one end of the away a few treasures, you deserve what’s going to hap-pool to the other. pen to you. Whenever I lecture today’s young girls about their For when I open my social pleasurehole, at last, whatswollen social pleasureholes, they look at me like, “So? emerges…could be almost anything. A bloodhound. AIt ain’t 1969 anymore, Grams.” Well. I may be sixty-two dove. An all-out atomic holocaust…years old. I may be a grandmother. Times may have Poor babies. You won’t even knowchanged, a bit. But remember this: I was Miss Social what hit you.Pleasurehole 1969. And what worked in the past, canwork again. Perhaps…even better. So listen up, girls. A new year means a new competi-tion—and I’m entering. Laugh, if you want. Waltz onmy topography. But remember: just because one’s so-cial pleasurehole is old, doesn’t mean you should lay awhite sheet over it and speak of it only in hushed tones.It isn’t the social pleasurehole per se, after all, but what’swithin it that counts. And if you think, girls, that afterall these years, I’ve failed to learn a trick or two, to stow

Illustrations by Xan Woods

DR AGNET 42 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR Horrible But some would say he was smiling harmfully— In that time, though it took him maybe a little Really Well like his smile had no benevolence? His smile longer than I would have preferred, MyBot re- was not good, even though it was a smile. But vealed his name to be Barrons Junior, or just Made I shrugged it off, because when is a smile not plain Barrons. The creator of the MyBots was by Matt Rowan good? So rarely! I thought, it must be I’m Dr. Timothy Barrons, of whom MyBot was imagining things. very fond and proud (because he was pro-M yBot came and I got all ex- In point of general appearance, MyBots are grammed to be, as a kind of perpetual com- cited. “He’ll fill in great for similar to the robots you’ll see in classic sci- mercial for Barrons Co.). that friend I once had”— fi shows. Heads and torsos that resemble tin MyBot possessed full Artificial Sentience.joyfully I sang these words in my head, over buckets, rigid arms and legs a medium-sized It also had that thing that allows a robot toand over. He’ll be like having that human pipe’s width, a smile of mouth slits, and like say what it wants without a filter. It was sup-friend but without the same old ever-present eyes that only glow red if they’re ever any col posed to come complete with one of thosefear of abandonment, I’d thought. our. A MyBot is, much as you might’ve envi- emotional IQ de-inhibiters, because robots After I booted him up, MyBot nodded at sioned, somewhat scary-looking, but I think tend to naturally revert to a state of inhibitedme, his smile big and alight. He always smiled somewhat empty-looking is more accurate. or repressed emotional IQ, as a result of justbecause that’s the way his mouth had been For the first few weeks of our friendship how fucked up it is to be manufactured. Butshaped, in a permanent smile. But, it was like things proceeded mostly on a positive track. Barrons didn’t come with the de-inhibiter, so

it was plain rude a lot of the time (to me, any-way). One time, when things began to changewith MyBot, when Barrons had had enough, Isauntered into my living room where Barronssat inertly, and I asked what he was doing. Iasked it jocularly like this: “Working hard orhardly working, Barrons, my chum?” He toldme, an idea seemingly come from out of no-where, “When people howl, ‘No war for oil!No war for oil!’ they never really think abouthow good having oil is. They’d miss that oil,if it were ever gone.” And I told him it’s anuncommon thing that you’d hear anyonehowl regarding wars for oil these days, minusone W. Bush presidency and minus a popu-lace presently alarmed by that sort of thing. Illustration by Jackie Timpener

DR AGNET 44 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURHe said he “figured” I’d apologize for “them” a robot, or a person even, just really only at a reproachful diagonal tilt). He’d react ir-(he used just that emphasis, them). I took it wants to hear what they are saying and how ritably to words I spoke, even when I literallyfor an awkward rebuke, which was followed they say things as a great conversationalist or hadn’t said anything. He hated me like mostby awkward silence—which is how anyone s toryteller will. But I wasn’t an audience. I everyone I’ve known.would have interpreted the silence. We didn’t was, I thought I was, Barrons’s good-to-best So this returns us to how I hoped Bar-speak for a while after that. friend. That’s why I bought him a carnival coat rons would be different, wouldn’t always talk And honestly, I didn’t see Barrons for quite dotted with so many colours of sequins. Se- about how uncool I was. Barrons numbereda time. I wasn’t aware he was capable of going quins that nicely bedazzled him—like a party me a 0.5 on his “Dr. Timothy Barrons’s Rela-wherever he wanted without my consent. It on feet, as the advertisement for the carnival tive Coolness Scale”—a perfect 10 being ex-seemed like the result of faulty wiring. When coat had convinced me. I pointed this out to clusively attributed to Dr. Timothy BarronsBarrons returned, finally, he said something him, my thoughts about our friendship, and himself.flippant about how sorry he was. It was a sor- he was not happy about my pointing it out. Then the day finally came. Barrons—ry that said he was not really sorry for his part dressed up in his big, sequined carnival coat—in what happened but sorry he knew me. *** woke me from a reasonably deep sleep, it be- He eventually perked up and tried relat- ing three in the morning. “It’s time for me toing this good story he’d acquired in his time From then on, Barrons only ever scowled in go, Fatso,” Barrons said (he’d taken to callingaway. Sometimes you begin to feel like maybe my presence (his eye slits open only partially, me Fatso by then). I told him I paid for him,

but he was a true friend whom I didn’t want to hold back any longer. I said, “I’ll never forget you, Barrons!” He said, “Shut up, of course you’ll be hearing from me. We’ll drink beers together some- time. You have my number.” Then he left with a lot of my stuff. As far as I know, he’s since changed his phone number, because this guy speaking something Eastern European always answers the one I have saved in my contacts, under :) BARRONS :) !! And that’s all I know.Illustration by Jackie Timpener

DR AGNET 46 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR The Haircut On Tuesday, a vast prehistoric fern rising ited him, freakishly imprisoned within his from the verdant forest floor of his organi- small and now rather unkempt bedroom. by Gary Barwin cally vibrant head. Wednesday: prize wheat For as it had grown, the fame of this single on the tractless blond prairie of his pink pate. marvellous hair had grown also. The crowdsE ach hair is equal, each hair is en- By Thursday, he knew that this was another surrounded his house, congregated in his titled to the same rights, privileges impossible dream. One of his hairs was dif- yard, disturbed the neighbours, searching for and caresses by fingers and the wind ferent. It grew faster than the others. It was hairnets, for product, for discarded, and pos-as every other hair, his father had said. And so, magnificent. sibly unrecognized, remarkable hairs. Thehe would honour his father. His hair would Sunday night, it broke the earth’s surface people came from throughout the land, fromnot be the uneven and unfair coiffure of the and he emerged from his paper tomb. over the seas, from salons with blue comb-past. It would be new hair: long, equal, and He went straight home and stayed there. He sterilizer water and scented brushes.proud. could not leave, for though he had had an ex- His hair grew until it was an antenna ex- The other kids did not understand. They tensive style and trim, a short back and sides, tending around the world, the world in itscarried him to the woods in a cardboard box a buzz, a perm, a treatment, the one hair again normal-to-oily embrace. Children played be-and buried him beside an old sofa. became huge and snaked through the rooms side the hair. They held sections and played On Monday, in darkness, he imagined the of his house like the black power cords of the jump rope. One-a-daisy. Two-a-daisy. Let’sinnumerable grasses of his scalp’s savannah. many morning talk show film crews who vis- step in.

DR AGNET 47 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR But the hair divided villages. It was a wall puters in their rooms. They schemed. Some- drainpipe of space spiked bright with stars. Itthrough the main street. Animals, coming thing needed to be done. is a hundred Deaths descending the Playlandacross the hair in the midst of migration His hair now reached beyond the earth and slide, dark robes fluttering, their shoeless mistook it for an oil pipeline, changed was as a comb-over for Jupiter. What would feet pulled up close, the howling throat of a their route and died. His father would not happen, they demanded, if the hair curled toddler-minded man remembering spring. be proud: though his hair had become a and began to crowd out the sun? We need the long hair, he said. It is the ever- symbol of the earth’s pugnacious fertil- We need the hair, he told them. The hair is growing black stem of a daisy sent from the ity, it had also become a security fence everything: good and evil, memory and pre- future to remind us who we are and who we between nations. The Nobel Prize commit- diction. It is the spirit of animals, lined up, one might be. We are equal, he said, but only with tee awarded his hair the Peace Prize only after the other as if waiting for a movie, the ourselves and our futures. The hair is a long so they could disgrace the hair by taking finger and it is pointing at us. it back. Generals met in secret to dis- The children went into their backyards cuss plans to develop electrolysis from and looked toward heaven. Satellites moved space. But still the hair grew. across the sky, dodging the giant hair. Wind The children who had buried him from over the fence tousled the children’s talked to each other from the com- bangs. We believe you, they said. We love you. Illustration by Illya Klymkiw

DR AGNET 48 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOUR Contributor BiosFrances Barnet is a young writer, living in ion, and fine art. Her passion has always Andrew Hammerand is a photographic-Montreal. been documenting the human form and based artist, and was born in the suburbs of is fascinated by capturing it through a Chicago, Illinois. Andrew currently lives andGary Barwin is a writer and performer. lens. She has photographed overseas, re- works in Mesa, AZ. His photographic workHis books include five poetry collections, cently including an exhibition and maga- has been exhibited in various juried andthe recent Franzlations: the Imaginary Kaf- zine credit in Brighton, U.K. Her website is group exhibitions, and most recently he was aka Parables (with Hugh Thomas and Craig stephaniecoffeyphotography.4ormat.com/. co-curator of the traveling exhibition, “SouthConley), two fiction collections, and a collab- Phoenix through the Eyes of Youth.”orative novel (with Stuart Ross). His blog is Ali Hall paints, mostly portraits, often ob-serifofnottingham.blogspot.com. He lives in jects, and places where people and objects Will Johnson is currently an MFA student inHamilton, Ontario, where he’ s writing the reside. She is fascinated by what makes a Creative Writing at the University of Britishgreat Canadian Jewish pirate novel. place home. Pumba, from The Lion King, says Columbia. His work has appeared in The Fid- “home is where your rump rests.” For her, dlehead, Burner Mag, This Side of West, IslandStephanie Coffey is a Toronto-based pho- usually, that is in Bloordale, Toronto. Writer and Pearls.tographer specializing in portraits, fash-

DR AGNET 49 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURDeepa Jolly has had far too many incarna- Humber College. Her writing has appeared Matt Rowan edits Untoward Magazinetions to count. She is currently a commu- in Inquire, where she was a Senior Editor and (untowardmag.com). Writes about books andnications professional and thrilled to be in Writer, and The Savvy Reader, the HarperCol- whatever else at iteraryequations.blogspot. lDragnet. lins book blog (where she recently complet- com. He thinks education is important and ed a very fun/educational internship). She he hopes you do, too.Nikin Nagewadia is a Toronto-based artist has also written for, and worked with, Pinkwho had his works shown at the Telus World- Thoughts, Tightrope Books, the National Bal- Suzannah Showler is completing an MA inwide Short Film Festival, Contact Photogra- let of Canada, and Air Canada’s charitable or- Creative Writing at the University of Toron-phy Festival, and Earth Day Everyday Heroes ganization Dreams Take Flight. to. Her writing has appeared in some places,Film Festival. In addition, he has had an artist including The Walrus, Toronto Life, CV2, andresidency at Toronto’s Victory Café, featur- Rolli is the author/illustrator of Plum Stuff The Puritan, and she contributes to The On-ing photographs taken on the iPhone. (poems) and the forthcoming God’s Autobio ion A.V. Club Toronto. She collects narratives (stories) and Mavor’s Bones (Gothic novel-in- about lost objects at artoflosing.ca.Cristina Rizzuto graduated from the Uni- poems). The Seaphone, his collection of overversity of Toronto with a degree in English 50 flash fictions, is presently homeless. VisitLiterature and Italian studies, later earning a his blog—rolliwrites.wordpress.com—andCertificate in Creative Book Publishing from follow his epic tweets @rolliwrites.

DR AGNET 50 MAGAZINE ISSUE FOURSuzanne Sutherland is a Toronto-based love, thought and cheek. Ian can be reached Xan Woods is an Ottawa-based artist in-writer and bookseller. Her fiction has ap- at ian@ianturner.ca. volved in projects ranging from painting topeared in Descant, Steel Bananas, and The Var- digital media. She is currently working insity, and on CBC.ca. Originally from Kingston, Ontario, Ann collaboration with the Carleton University Ward is co-creator of Montreal’s WithWords Hyperlab on a locative media project calledJackie Timpener lives and works in Toronto, Press and a graduate of the English and Cre- “Move,” which draws on disability and mediaOntario. In 2007 she obtained her BFA with ative Writing Program at Concordia Univer- studies to create an experience of social im-a major in drawing and painting at Ontario sity. Her poetry has appeared in MsGuided, mobility for a user. Blending the traditionalCollege of Art and Design. She is now work- CV2, and Feathertale, and her fiction has ap- with the modern, the academic with the per-ing towards a degree in Graphic and Web De- peared in Branch, and was chosen by Colum sonal, Xan’s work is a schizophrenic and ho-sign. McCann to appear in the 2009 Fish Anthol- listic exploration of contemporary society. ogy in Ireland. Ann lives in Montreal.Ian John Turner was born in Ontario in Joseph Yachimec lives in Seoul, where hethe autumn. His work often deals with ideas Jeremy Woodcock is a writer and comedian teaches semi-asleep Korean children Englishof place and with the commemoration of who works with Torontoist, the Rulers of the against their wills.tall tales and small stories. He strives to ap- Universe sketch troupe, and Just For Laughs.proach everything with equal measures of

http://dragnetmag.net	1971
http://a0.twimg.com	7
http://us-w1.rockmelt.com	1

Dragnet Magazine Issue Four

by Dragnet Magazine on Jan 20, 2012

Accessibility

Categories

Upload Details

Usage Rights

3 Embeds 1,979

Statistics

Dragnet Magazine Issue Four Presentation Transcript