A brick could be used to show how patient you are. Somewhere between one brick and a million bricks lies a home. For me, my home is one brick, and I carry it with me wherever I go, because I’m always on the move. Maybe one day, when I’m a wealthy man, I’ll get a second brick and walk around with my mansion in my hands.
A brick could be used to foretell the future. But I’m the only one alive who knows how to make it work, and my occult knowledge can be rented out to you for $9.99 per minute. Call now, as supplies are limited. (Technically there’s only one future, but there are also as many futures as there are people willing to pay for it.)
But he is not always alone. When the long winter nights come on and the wolves follow their meat into the lower valleys, he may be seen running at the head of the pack through the pale moonlight or glimmering borealis, leaping gigantic above his fellows, his great throat a-bellow as he sings a song of the younger world, which is the song of the pack.
There was a time—until very recently in the scheme of things—when there were no wild animals, because every animal was wild; and humans were few. Animals, and animal presence over us and around us. Over every horizon, animals. Their skins clothing our skins, their fats in our lamps, their bladders to carry water, meat when we could get it.
A brick could be used to help you become an Olympic swimmer. Tie the brick around your legs and have a friend drop you off someplace, say the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and then simply swim back to shore. By the time you hit the beach, you’ll be able to swim faster than a shark. In fact, you’ll have to if you plan on making it home.
A blanket could be used to find the Brick of Truth. Many lies will be layered on the Brick of Truth to try to cover it up, but the blanket will cover up all the lies, thus covering up the cover up and thereby revealing the Brick of Truth. And don’t try to steal the covers, because the blanket will only provide warmth to the Brick of Truth.
Weetzie could not even cry and make Kleenex roses. She remembered the day her father, Charlie, had driven away in the smashed yellow T-bird, leaving her mother Brandy-Lynn clutching her flowered robe with one hand and an empty glass in the other, and leaving Weetzie holding her arms crossed over her chest that was taking its time to develope into anything
A brick could be used to attract a potential life partner. Yes indeed, and it’s how I met my ex wife. And the only reason she didn’t become my life partner was because I outlived our relationship, despite her numerous attempts to kill me. I’m 31 years old now, so thank God for modern science enabling me to achieve such longevity.
A brick could replace the eagle as the symbol for the United States of America. And why not? A brick just sort of sits there, expecting everything to be built around it; a brick crumbles, much like an empire; and a brick is nonthinking, just like America’s “leadership” in Washington DC—on both sides of the political spectrum.
A brick could be used to commit genocide on a small patch of grass, if you lay the brick down on the lawn and leave it there long enough. But I do not condone this monstrosity of lawntrocity. (Lawn + atrocity—clever, no? OK, no, it’s not so clever. To have any lawngevity as a writer, I’ve got to avoid making clunky, brick-like puns.)
A brick could be used to keep a level head. I don’t mean remaining rational, I mean literally, keep your head still and balanced and don’t let the brick fall off. Actually, keeping the brick stable on your head might keep you emotionally stable, as it’ll stop you from rushing to judgment—or rushing anywhere, inhibiting rashness.
A brick could be used as the perfect response in one particular situation. Next time someone says, “I love you,” say nothing. Just grab a brick, cradle it with both hands like a kitten, and hold it out to the other person. Whether you want the other person to leave, or whether you want them to stay, the response works flawlessly every time.
A brick could be your new best friend. If this appeals to you, it’s probably because people tend to seek the company of others who posses similar intellects and interests. And as I have just begun demonstrating, a brick can be very interesting indeed. Now, where did I put my mortar? I must go grab some, because I think my new friend is getting cold.
Oh my God," I huffed. "You were so well-behaved during dinner. I actually thought we could be friends.""No such thing, babe.""What do you mean?""I mean when a man wants a woman like I want you, there's no 'friends' about it. Tell yourself whatever you want, but men and woman can't be friends after they've fucked. Or if they want to fuck." Ch.3
A brick could be a politician, if you attached strings, taught it to dance, and allowed it to read a teleprompter. Remember: whether it’s Republican or Democrat, it’s still a brick, and it will do whatever the Mason’s want it to. But if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to work. Now, where did I leave my secret handshake?
