Everyone knows the story of St. Stephenson.  We learn it at our parent’s knees.  But recently, while renovating the Rediscovery where St. Stephenson came to First Life, a strange machine was discovered hidden in the hull.  At first no one knew what it was; our investigations were not able to determine its function.  At last St. Stephenson was consulted as to the purpose of this machine.  His exact words were, “Oh, that?  It’s nothing, just a black box.  You can throw that away.”  We were about to do exactly that when someone wondered aloud what was a black box, and why it was not black, but bright orange?  We consulted our old records, from back in the early centuriess of space flight, and we found that a recording device called a black box, was used, amongst other things, to record on tape any words that were spoken in the cockpit, in case a problem developed, so that the problem could later be investigated.
    It was lucky for First Life that we looked into this, for when we decided to listen to the recording, we discovered on it, in St. Stephenson’s own words, the mental processes that he went through that took him from kangaroo-court-criminal to Prime Representative of First Life.  St. Stephenson was contacted again, to see how he wanted those words preserved, but he said to destroy them.  In almost every case his orders would have been carried out, but in all consciousness, and in responsibility to First Life, we agreed that destroying these words of his was impossible.
    Instead, we wrote them down, in the format you are about to approach them, so that everyone could know what he went through for us, but most especially what St. Stephenson went through to reach First Life.  For we who first heard his words, the experience was incredible, as if we were there in prison with him, and he were talking to us as if he could see us.
    We hope that in this presentation the experience will be equally moving.  Making this transcript was both fortunate and unfortunate for humanity.  Unfortunate, because as we copied the words, the tape from which we were making the copy began to disintegrate from its great age; fortunate, because we got all the words down in print before the tape finished disintegrating.  So, while we do not have St. Stephenson’s voice to present his words to you, we do have his words; this is the best we can ever have now, because St. Stephenson outright refuses to re-record these words for us.  Therefore, we present them only in this format, for your edification and enjoyment.
    We have tried our faithful best to present the following poems to you, and for you, in the manner which he chose to speak them, or sing them, as he sometimes did.  As St. Stephenson went through the process of learning how to compose poetry, we went though a similar process of how to best transcribe it in its pure form.  The language is an archaic form of Canadian English, the language of St. Stephenson’s youth, and the language he used on the recording.  We, your transcribers, hope we have preserved the simplicity of the poetry, and brought forth all the meaning with which it is endowed.  But this is enough of us.  Here then, is St. Stephenson:

The First Life Revelation Society

5368 F.L.

Thus starts the poetic novel of the universe’s first immortal human. Next, if you care to waste your time, are two of the “EFFORTS” that St. Stephenson verbalized as he slowly went insane.

Effort 96 (of THE CRAZY MAN TAPES: A Transcription)

Was probably the very first word
Spoken by prehistoric man
And had so many meanings
It needed a dictionary for itself

Then someone added agh
And language was born

Agh was non-ugh
Yet developed as many meanings
Agh ugh the conversations went
And everyone understood them

But someone wasn’t satisfied
They added argh
And tried to make it mean as much
But agh and ugh described most things
Argh could mean but argh

Agh ugh ugh agh agh agh ugh argh
Told the story of the hunt
How the mammoth was brought down
And lost its spirit

Ung and ang soon joined the crowd
Describing fire and rain
Then somebody sounded ogh and oogh
And igh and egh and ergh

Ung egh argh agh ugh oogh ogh ang ang ang
Was the big black clouds coming over the hill
And since then nothing but rain rain rain
It went without saying the hunt had been postponed

Ang engh ergh ugh ugh agh argh oogh
Ugh uck ack ung urk ock
Ugh ung ang ang eck igh ack ack
Oogh ugh agh ugh ugh oock



Effort One Hundred and One   (of THE CRAZY MAN TAPES: A Transcription)

If I accept as fact the sights I’ve seen
The fact is this
The universe began with birth of Life
But Life itself did not know itself alive
It lived and lived
And was nothing but itself

Then recognition came
It knew itself
But self was nothing
And thus it knew it needed more
than it

It took a form
And lived and died
And didn’t live again
Till recognition came anew

This happened more than once
Again again again
It needed more than life
To conquer death

Trial and error and error and trial
It tried itself itself it tried to try
Life was only lived until its death
It needed change

It needed to reproduce itself
So it would live on after death
Success at last came to our virgin Life
Fission made it safe to hope for more

But fission didn’t work
The same life lived again
The hoped-for change did not occur
The nothing stayed the same

Now Life went on but nowhere went
It was it was it
If only it could change itself
One life to the next

Double helix

This was evolution
This was change indeed
It bred itself to itself
And entered a state of progress
But the progress was too little
The change was much too slow
It knew it wanted more
And didn’t know how

It tried a different form
Based on the good things of the first
And it learned a trick or two
But not enough

Time passed
Though it did not know it
And in this time it grew new forms
As myriad as the atoms

But no matter what it tried
No matter what it learned
It knew the vast emptiness of itself
And yearned for more

It was surprised one time when
two cells joined together
And lived as one
It had not intended this
So it watched and learned

And soon it saw the value of the team
It encouraged other cells to meet
and join
But it lost control of its experiment
And helplessly stood by

One-celled two-celled three-celled
Animals and plants
Life exploded everywhere
And lived upon itself

The nothing now was something
But it wasn’t very much
And its progress was so slow
It hardly noticed it

The organisms grew
And became much more complex
They built upon themselves
Then built on that

And each life was the Life
That started at the start
Part went away at birth
And returned again at death

And brought with it experience
That added to the past
And pointed to the future
That came and went
One day self-awareness
Burst upon the scene
It watched now fascinated
And discovered fear

These little lives that it sent out
Were each a part as knowing
as the whole
Indeed they thought themselves
the whole
And recognized not their parthood

At length the Life was forced to act
It acted on itself
Each little life that it sent out
Forgot it had a past

Until it died in life
And returned back home in death
Only then it knew itself
And went insane

In self-defence the original Life
broke up
To protect the little lives that went
and came
Barriers were created
But the knowledge to join again
in each remained

Separated now the One was more
than one
And each piece learned its life
in isolation
The memory of the whole was all
it had
And soon forgot to remember
even this

If what I saw the other night was real
Then all of this is true
It’s a memory that doesn’t belong
to me
But I have it all the same
Though words are all I have to
give expression
To ideas that are impossible
in words
It’s all so inadequate
But at least I tried

If these poems interest you at all, the entire novel is available starting at with the index on the right designed to read the book in fairly easy sessions.

your poet/author




Author: rawgod

Still a Hippie, and proud of it. Have my BSW, now retired. Would have preferred to be a Dr. of Philosophy, but the university I went to wouldn't let me study my own philosophy. Your gain, their loss. I live on the edge of society with my partner, five cats, a broodmare, and a three year-old filly who might make her racing debut this coming summer or fall. Remember the name, Tricksy T Clanton.

5 thoughts on “THE CRAZY MAN TAPES: A Teaser”

  1. I absolutely LOVE this, Jerry!! What a brilliant presentation of your memories of Life. (And the birth of language, which is a personal topic of interest.) Thank you, thank you, for this teaser!


    1. You are welcome, Lisa. I hope you find the time to read the whole story. The only feedback on it I ever got was from a publisher, good story, but nobody reads poetry anymore . Write it in text and send it bact. I’ll see if I can use it.
      Bullshit. The srory requires poetry, weird ad it seems…

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Sometimes the poetry is part of the story. Certainly it reflects the rhythm and pace. I often write stories in lyrical prose, and I love how the story just flows. You know instantly if it is complete or not, if it got too far off track, etc… the cadence gives it all away.

        But it’s not an “easy” write, so kudos to you for accomplishing it!

        I’ve bookmarked the link, so I am planning on reading it. But no promises on when… lol!


  2. Well done Sir. I read 1-10 as well. You have a lot going on in that cranium of yours don’t you? I am entertained and provoked. I’ll look at some more tonight.


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