jason christoper hartley

December 23, 2009

Fevered Theatre, Severed Heaven Here

Filed under: Short Stories — Jason Christopher Hartley @ 3:07 am

Seymour sat with his legs crossed, knee over knee, at a small table at a French bistro on a New York City sidewalk under a deep blue awning that did little to shade him from the sun as it was early enough in the morning that it shone in his face, making a warm summer morning a little warmer. It would be a hot day. He silently repeated to himself, in reverse alphabetic order, the nine things he knew the girl would be interested in: theophany, taxonomy, pseudepigraphy, midrash (halakhah vs. aggadah), historicity, exogamy, etiology, eschatology, anagogy. He glanced at his watch again for the ninth time in less than seven minutes. He was glancing at his watch at an interval of almost exactly once every forty-five seconds. It had been six minutes and forty-five seconds since he sat down. As the sun slowly ascended the powder blue sky, he worried that if the air temperature rose two more degrees, he’d start to sweat. Or rather if the air temperature under his shirt surrounding his torso (which was several degrees hotter then the ambient air around him) rose two more degrees Fahrenheit (he approximated), he’d start to sweat. He wasn’t overly concerned with sweating under his shirt or even on his face for that matter—it was summer in New York City after all—it was the fact that his palms would be damp when he shook the hand of the girl from the magazine whom he was supposed to meet here six minutes and forty-five seconds ago. His arms were thin and sinewy and his shoulders narrow, but his hands were strong. When he was nervous (which was most the time), he had a habit of shaking the hands of people he met with an over-firm grip that, on occasion, caused the recipient’s knuckles to crack. He had since remedied this habit by concentrating entirely on his hand during introductory handshakes and uttering to himself silently, “Fevered theater, severed heaven here, gnarled knelling czar” which had a calming affect on him (especially when he thought about the leading silent consonants of the three trailing words) which helped him keep the pressure he applied to no more than five pounds per square inch, not the unchecked twelve to fifteen p.s.i. of the past. No one liked the feeling of a damp palm against their own, and Seymour knew that even if he nonchalantly wiped his against the leg of his trousers as he stood up to greet her, she’d notice the wiping motion, if only subconsciously, and this would give the impression that he was wiping something unpleasant off his hand, another universal psychological turn-off—that the person you’re being greeted by is a filthy person, one who must constantly be wiping his hands free of foreign matter. He knew the volatility of a first impression. He also knew that popular culture had conditioned people to fixate on making a good first impression, something he had concluded was virtually impossible (his awkward social encounters were legion) to do in a single instance in real life without a sword or being a celebrity. What was of greater statistical importance (by two orders of magnitude, by his figuring) was simply not making a bad impression. People are easily repulsed, he had determined, by biological fluids, starting with perspiration and saliva, followed by mucus and urine, then finally bile and feces. Blood was harder to categorize. In the city where diseases without cures flourished, blood ranked with bile and feces on the repulsion scale, but in suburban America it fell under the middle category, associated with bloody noses and nose picking. In rural America, where people dealt with livestock and performed manual labor, blood was as common as sweat, and often just as sterile. In New York City, blood was a universal contagion; something that had been transmuted from being essential to life to being a threat to it. But blood didn’t concern Seymour now, just sweat. The kind of sweat produced by anxiety. Anxiety that would be present despite the air temperature. Damn it, he thought. He’d be sweating regardless. He’d wasted—yup, he was good at intuitively keeping time—a full forty-five seconds now, pointlessly worrying about air temperature as a function of time when he was already sweating, and still would be when the woman arrived. He realized the futility of the moment he was in. He stopped worrying, it was already lost. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back to an angle such that the plane of his face was perpendicular to the rays of the sun, and imagined the woman he was waiting for (whom he hadn’t yet met) as a child. She wore a peasant dress, was sitting on the ground under the shade of an enormous old tree, engrossed by the acorns she held in her hands that she’d gathered with another young girl her age. She looked happy, content.

The Nut Gatherers, by French painter William-Adolphe Bouguerea (1825-1905)

12 Responses to “Fevered Theatre, Severed Heaven Here”

  1. Peter Shorts Says:

    AVATAR! Wow what a fiasco. Jason was telling everyone who would listen how much he loved AVATAR. What a stupid Utah hick.

    According to Jason, AVATAR is really about the exploitation of the American Indian by the evil Corporations, the US Government and military.

    According to this Zen Mormon the Indians were fucked over by the white man. Once again this product of our public school system completely ignores the overall facts.

    So for the rest of you who want to Pow Wow with Sitting Bull and Tee Pee up on Thanksgiving here is a quick look at how the shit really went down.

    A bunch of assholes in Europe – namely the Kings and Queens fucked over their people. No one was allowed to own land. Land was granted to and taken away by Government.

    One day some people were like “Fuck This Shit.” They put all their junk on a friggin raft that could capsize on a pond and let the freakin wind power them to the New World. Let me say that again – these people were so desperate they got on a boat and sailed to a strange land. Hartley and his associates won’t even board a plane unless its business class!

    Now these people land in the New World and the do what no man has ever been able to do in the history of the world. They claim ownership without permission or grants from a self avowed diety. The only thing required of these people is to work.

    After a while the rest of Europe hears about this place and decides “fuck these clowns I ain’t shoveling shit for the King or Duke or Nobleman anymore.” They get on a slightly better hunk of shit raft and head to America.

    Soon all sorts of pissed off people come to America. These people have been fucked over so bad their assholes have traffic directions for all the Royal and Aristocratis cock that delivered daily fistings to them.

    All of a sudden these people were like Fuck, all the land is taken – lets move our asses a little further West. So they move inland a little more.

    In the midst of all this movement to America there was a band of savages. These backward fucktards lived in shitty pre-historic conditions. Modern day scholars allege that these savages were Noble and had a Spiritual Connection to the Earth.

    If these fucks were so great then were are their books? Ancient Egyptians had books even libraries. Dumb Ass neanderthals made cave drawings. Fucking Indians had dick – be honest these fuckers were no scholars.

    Eventually the Savages and the Settlers started to fight.

    Now we are told that the government poisened the Indians with disease. Well I guess The Spirit Horse is an ironic prick because these alleged nature loving tree huggers were wiped out by nature!

    Lets be honest – all of us. If a man came up to you and said – “Hey you can have 500 acres of land out West, its all yours free! but there are a bunch of illiterate whackos near by who might be pissed.”

    Most of us would hop on the wagon and take the land.

    Imagine you on your land. Your asshole doesn’t hurt anymore because the King isn’t around to cornhole you. Your wife isn’t subjected to constant demands of blowjobs from the Nobleman’s horny son. There you are plowing your fields and all of a sudden 15 half nude illiterate savages show up with paint on their faces, feathers in their hair whoopin and hollerin like a drugged out Chelsea club boys. You would do what any sane person would – grab your gun and kill the druggies.

    That is exactly what happened. The End.

    If you don’t agree with me or still despise the White man then sell your house, give it to a Navajo, move back to Europe, drop your wife off at a palace to get fucked, grab a shovel and go clean shit on the streets in Vienna so some Count or Von doesn’t have to get his boots dirty.

  2. Yvonne Wessler Says:

    Who is this person?

  3. Peter Shorts Says:

    For those who need the update – I am Jason Christopher Hartley’s official stalker. I recently noticed Jason is spending time with an unemployed writer. (Well all writers are unemployed – that’s why they love the Gov’ment)

    When I discovered his new Amore I was not upset. It is much better to stalk someone who is in demand and has a sex life that actually involves 2 people. As I have stated before Jason is a chronic masturbater and it gets awkward spying on him while he JOs to the home shopping network.

    The other day I was rifling through Jason Christopher Hartley’s stuff and I found a mix tape he made for his new girl. For the sake of her privacy lets call her Gale. So here I am stalking this celebrity and what is he doing – making a mix tape like a lonely 13 year old fat girl without a Valentine.

    As gay as the act of making a mix tape is – the songs were even worse:

    1. THE BEATLES “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” – I can imganie Jason pretending to strum a Guitar while Gale looks at him with Hippy Longing.

    2 R.E.M. “Shiny Happy People” – Stupid Hippy Teenagers, REM proves once again that as gay as they are this song will give you ear AIDS.

    3. DEEP BLUE SOMETHING “Breakfast At Tiffany’s” – This is how I picture Jason and Gale in a fight – “Please don’t leave we like the same movie!”

    4. JOHN MAYER “Your Body is a Wonderland” – I think Jason has an over sized penis but the rest of his body is not a wonderland. Gale has nice tits though.

    5. CELINE DEON ‘My Heart Will Go On’ – She is fucking Canadian enough said. However Jason is from Utah.

    6. ACE OF BASE “The Sign” – If this is on his mix tape it is a sign of doom, or the date rape drug.

    7. EXTREME “More Than Words” – Basically Jason is telling Gale to give up the puss or at least blow him.

    8. WHAM “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” Unfortunately I think Gale would rather sneak out of Jason’s apartment without waking that glue sniffing mormon up.

    9. LADY GAGA “Love Game” – Lady GaGa is essentially Marilyn Mansons younger sister so I have no idea why this song is on his mix tape. Although I did manage to bug Jason’s phone and apperently Gale loves Lady GaGa – does that make her a Lesbian or a Gay man?

  4. Emily B Says:

    “Aristocratis cock that delivered daily fistings to them”

    I am pretty sure if you’re using your “cock” you can’t be “fisting” someone with it.
    Mixing metaphors is risky business for a stalker. Really attacks your cred.

  5. Peter Shorts Says:

    I can’t let the events of this Friday pass by without expressing my rage at the lunacy of the world. Tiger Woods’ press conference and the following press conference by porn star Joslyn James (one of Tiger’s Mistress’s) reflect all that is wrong with our society.

    I am a committed stalker. I stalk Jason Christopher Hartley, no one else. If Natalie Portman were to dial my 917 and say “hey Peter, I need a stalker, my old one is in jail for violating the restraining order,” I would tell her:

    “Listen here Natalie – recognize this shit! I stalk Jason Christopher Hartley and no one else, not you, not feed the world Matt Fucking Damon, not Anorexia Jolie, or friggin Leighton Meiser – who the fuck is she anyway?”

    As a stalker I am offended that porn star Joslyn James was upset about Tiger lying to her. All she had to do was ask my boy Miguel Consuela about Tiger. Miguel is Tiger’s #1 Stalker. Miguel would have told her “bitch, the man is a liar and a cheat. It’s as plain as the balls you sucked in “Shorty Iz Fuckin’ Yo Mama 2″ (Black Market Video released 2007). If you are fornicating with a married man it is his first instinct to lie!”

    I agree with Miguel. I know a lot of stalkers. Trust me we know everything about the celebrities we stalk. For example my buddy Crash Davis stalks Mr. T. Crash will be the first person to tell you that Mr. T pities a lot of fools but the fools he pities most are those who cut him in line at All American Burger.

    I am so angry right now. Do you know how hard it is to stalk Jason Hartley? Trust me this is a Stalk based on future returns. I believe Jason C Hartley will become a Nobel Prize/laureate writer. My stalker friends tell me to move on to Movie Stars, writers are not sexy. Well fuck that – I am not Tiger Woods, I just don’t stalk whatever glitzy porn star that crosses my path.

    It’s a matter of principle! I have endured countless court dates and restraining orders stalking Jason. I paid some out of work NASA jerk-off $5,000 to tap me into all of Jason’s electronic correspondences. I endured a vicious beating at the hands of body guards during Jason’s book signing tour just to get a lock of his hair. You have to be a total fuck nut cunt to think I would give up those memories to stalk even Shannen Doherty for one night.

    I took a friggin oath! An Oath marked in blood and bonded by a pair of Dirty Calvin’s I stole from Jason to be his stalker for life or until I decapitate him and wear his facial skin as Halloween Mask. I take this oath to heart.

    What does this have to do with Tiger? Everything! He chose to marry Elin, no one put a shotgun to his nuts and said hey Tiger marry that hot blond Swedish girl or I’ll neuter you. I chose to stalk Jason. Fuckin Bono was like “Peter please stalk me.” I told Bono to kiss my ass and suck my dick. If I wanted to stalk some cracker from Ireland it would be Sinéad Marie Bernadette O’Connor – at least she is interesting. Besides I could get awesome locks of hair from her.

    Tiger was slaying chicks left and right. Porn stars, strippers, social climbing sluts like Rachel Uchitel. He banged a waitress from Dennys and Hooters. He probably roofied and fucked his Caddy. For all we know Tiger got into Monica Lewinsky’s squirrel covers. Tiger did all this because he forgot the Joy! Yes the Joy!

    One day I stalked Jason during his play. It was an off Broadway production and I was able to fast rope into the rafters and video tape his performance. When Jason got a standing Ovation it made my day! I felt like wow – I am totally spying on this talented guy and I could kill him right now with my rifle but I will let him live this time so he can enjoy this moment. I felt proud to stalk him that day. You know the simple things. I could have gone for the immediate satisfaction of running a fiber optic spy camera into Heidi Montag’s plastic surgery operating room but that is just short term satisfaction. With Stalking I am in it for the long haul – Tiger could take a few tips from us stalkers.

  6. Peter Shorts Says:

    PS To Emily – I am pretty sure if you’re using your “cock” you can’t be “fisting” someone with it.
    Mixing metaphors is risky business for a stalker. Really attacks your cred.

    Trust me these people got the cock the fist and probably the foot all the way to the petella on the knee cap.

    I think if you get cornholed like that a fist or a cock or any other metaphoric phallus makes very little difference.

    Now please let me get back to Jason you spot light stealing SAT tutor. He is in the midst of a bath.

  7. Peter Shorts Says:

    Unless you have retard strength don’t fuck with Grizzly bears.

    In 2006 Jason was still hurting from getting dumped by some Latter Day Saint with pink nipples and he thought it would do him some good to get away for a while. So he and I headed up to Alaska on a hunting trip.

    A Quick interjection – I don’t want any shit from you PETA fanatics. You people cry your souls away because normal people eat Cow or Deer yet not one peep of disgust or horror when a Doctor shoves a vacuum up a Vagina and sucks out a baby. I don’t mean to preach but come on.

    So any way Jason and I are up in Alaska to kill an animal and then eat its juicy tender and delicious meat. On our way up Mount McKinley a big fucking Grizzly comes hip hopping around the trail. This bear was a complete Gangster – he took one look at Jason and I and thought “Human Please! What are you to crakers doing in the Wood.”"

    I was ready to retreat but Jason was like Popeye – only instead of Spinache Jason uses Scotch Guard. Well my Glue sniffing Mormon friend took a nice hit of Scotch Guard turned to me and said run. I guess they grow them crazy in Utah because Jason pulled off some Brigham Young Mormon Cage fighting move and kicked the grizzly, hard, in the nuts.

    Whats the point of this? – Unless you have retard strength don’t fuck with Grizzly bears. This pretty much holds true for all types of animals that can eat a human. Lets make a list:

    1. Sharks – don’t swim with or near them.
    2. Tigers – Here is a hint stay away from them… Sigfried and Roy ring a bell.
    3. Lions – unless you want to take a title shot for the crown don’t fuck with the King of the Jungle.
    4. Silver Back Gorillas – “Hi my name is Charla Nash, I had most of my face torn off during a frenzied Gorilla attack at my friends house!” WTF, What the Fuck!!!

    And lastly and most important don’t mess around or play with or feed any animal whose first name starts with Killer. Its a pretty simple guidline to live by. So lets review this guide line, what animal could I be talking about? huh oh yeah A KILLER FUCKING WHALE!!!

    It didn’t get its name because its cuddly. No one in the history of animal naming ever said hey look at that cute dog what should we name it? Golden Retriever or Killer Dog! No when an animals’ non official latin name contains the word Killer get away from it.

    Orcinus orca is the official term. Apparently some Medevil fisherman nicknamed the beast “Killer Whale.”

    Well what does our dumb ass society do. We take a killer whale and rename it Shamu. Thats a nice name, reminds of Scmoo from Li’l Abner. a nice marshmello type creature that gives out hugs.

    So here is Shamu the huggy animal and it swims around an above ground pool outside a trailer like some white trash mammal. Shamu is cute and nice. Shamu takes fish from your hands and does tricks. You don’t believe me? Well just fork over $40 and Sea World will let you see Shamu.

    But Shamu has a secret, a dark and dirty secret. Not a dirty secret like: in college Shammu was double teamed by her boyfriend and the Captain of the Hockey Team. Or during Shamu’s first year out of college she blew a guy in the bathroom at Double Happiness. No Shamu’s secret is worse.

    Shamu is not her real name… her real name is KILLER WHALE! Killer Whale is a beast and genetically built for death. Killer Whale does not have arms and cannot hug you. But killer whale has teeth and can chew you like Fruity Pebbles. So feeding and swimming with Killer Whale is not a friggin good idea. As a matter of survival I think it is safe to give ever child the following advise: “If you are the water and Killer Whale is near by – get out.” It is the same principle as:

    Don’t play with matches/fire.
    Don’t run with scissors.
    Don’t point Daddy’s gun at your friends and pull the trigger.
    Look both ways when crossing the street.

    Jim Croce put it best:

    “You don’t tug on Superman’s cape, you don’t spit into the wind, you don’t pull the mask off the old Lone Ranger and you don’t mess around with Slim.”

    In this case slim just happens to be a 20 ton genetically engineered killing machine named killer whale.

    So if your name is not Jason Christopher Hartley and you don’t have Mormon Zen Buddhist Retard strength augmented by a glue sniffing high don’t FUCK WITH GRIZZLY BEARS!

  8. Peter Shorts Says:

    Do you know who Robert Koffler Jarvik is?

    Why am I bringing this up? What does this have to do with Jason Hartley? During my tenure of Stalking Jason I noticed he goes to a lot of events. Really stupid events that people hold to celebrate themselves. This shit pisses me off. Why do people hold events to celebrate themselves? Even Birthdays are dumb. If you celebrate your birthday then you must be either an 11 year old boy or a 16 year old girl – because those are the cutoffs. No arguments about this, just shut the fuck up. Don’t come into the office and cry about doing work on your birthday… Guess what: 17,995,207 other living people in this world share your fucking birthday so its nothing special. Unless your name is Jesus Christ, President Lincoln or Dr. Martin Luther King no one should get a day off on their birthday. Grow up.

    Another event that is truly a testament to our fecal filled culture is the Academy Awards. Can you think of anything more fucked up than the Academy awards? The Academy Awards is a televised event that celebrates wicked hot and wicked rich people who make their living in movies and on TV. Can someone explain to me why people who make millions of dollars to read words on a camera need to have an awards show? Isn’t getting paid 7 figures to have someone film you while you speak and then bang every other hot person in the world enough of a reward?

    Apparently not. These genetic lottery winners are not just satisfied with 1 awards show – they have like 5, Golden Globes, Emmys, SAG Awards, Independent Spirit and don’t get me going on all the film festivals!

    What would we do if Oprah, Bill Gates and Warren Buffet threw a televised event and handed out awards to other Billionaires? We would fucking choke them out and then piss on their faces, not the watered down clear hydrated piss but the dark yellow been drinking stale keg beer hung over piss. But for some reasons when Hollywood celebrates themselves we are like “Oh yeah, George Clooney he deserves our attention for the night because it must be difficult for him to be paid $20 million dollars to read words and besides other than his looks, Palace in Italy, huge bank account and stable of ridiculously hot chicks life is real tough for George.”

    Don’t get me wrong – I am a true capitalist. If Zac Efron can get $3million for High School Musical 3 then awesome for him. Never saw the movie but I am sure it sucks the biggest of elephant balls and he still made 7 figures! Look, I could never do what Zac Ephron does. First off I am not Gay so there goes any opportunity for me being in High School Musical 4. Second I am a balding man who is slightly more attractive than Eleanor Roosevelt. Seriously, I make Tom Arnold look like Legends of the Fall Brad Pitt, not current Tree Beard Brad Pitt. Third I hate being on camera or film so hats off to those who can act. But do we really need to celebrate it with 500 awards shows and events?

    I love movies. Humphrey Bogart was one of the all-time greats. I love all of the stuff he was in – but Bogart got to bang Lauren Bacall when she was 19! Bogart made a ton of cash and banged one of the hottest ladies ever made! Trust me Bogey never needed a statue to tell him he did good. All he had to do was roll over look at his hot 19 year old wife and check his bank statement.

    Anyway, Robert Koffler Jarvik invented the artificial heart. If anyone gives a crap heart disease is like the #1 Killer in America.

  9. Peter Shorts Says:

    For anyone who actually cares about Jason Hartley know this – his cock is broken. It’s official. His hedonist Buddhist cheap alcohol and scotch guard fueled life style has rendered his man hood impotent. Yesterday the excommunicated Mormon moron was rushed to the hospital because he is passing a kidney stone, thus blocking his penis. I for one thank the greatness of God Almighty. He has rendered Jason impotent for the time being and that means my tax burdens may ease for a bit.

    Thank you God, thank you for making Jason have a horrendous pain in his penis. You made life unfair when you gave Jason unnatural youth and unblemished skin. But then Jason forsakes you and then walked away from his faith. Jason turned to a fat Asian named Buddha. Who ever heard of a fat Asian? The cool thing about being Asian is you don’t get fat and you have no facial hair.

    What happens when you piss off God, he comes after you like a Silver Back Gorilla infused with Einstein like intelligence. God put that Kidney stone in your dick to remind you of one thing…

    “You can pray to Buddha you can fornicate with 22 year old bitches from L.I. Go ahead and drink cheap booze, you want to be continually late for work no problem, you want to vote for a man who is a closet commie and was born in Kenya fine no problem… but you forsake me and I will put a fucking octagon shaped stone in your cock.”

    Jason forsake his lord God long ago and make no mistake God is awesome, but he is not to be trifled with.

    Jessie James fucked a satanic tattooed stripper in a Nazi uniform. Now Jessie James is homeless and without the puss. God does not stand still for that bullshit.

    Tiger Woods – God gave him the gift of all powers in golf and a hot wife. Tiger fucked the Jezabellian slut Rachel Uchitel – now Tiger can’t even go online to J.O. and his hot wife has all his cash. God does not stand still for that bullshit.

    The entire Kennedy Family – God gave them unlimited wealth, good looks, hot wives and political power. Then Jack and Bobby double teamed Marilyn Monroe and sniffed blow off of Bea Arthur’s ass. God was so pissed he had both of them whacked. Then Ted goes and kills a broad – well God said fuck you, fuck you Ted Kennedy… then God waited, because vengeance is best served cold and then he bumped off JFK jr. God does not stand still for that bullshit.

    John Edwards – you pissed off God so much he gave your wife Cancer twice and then humiliated you by letting the National enquirer catch you with your whore while you were running for President. God does not stand still for that bullshit.

    Jason Christopher Hartley your cock is on fire. Why do you ask? Why me? Well I’ll tell you why…God does not stand still for that bullshit. You dumb commie scotch guard sniffing fuck.

  10. Donna D Says:

    Sorry to hear about your stone…hope you are feeling better now.

  11. Amie MHS '92 Says:

    Hartley. Holy shit. Get in touch with me, would you?

  12. Christina Boyle Says:

    [Don't publish - Just a note] I felt compelled to say – you are such a gifted writer and I am belated enjoying your book. I remember your interview on NPR a long time ago. One of my friends who was in the 82nd Airborne started working now as a contractor recently and it prompted me to finally go and buy and read the book. I parcel the stories out in little bits at night before bed because I don’t want to greedily crank through it so fast. Please post more blog postings!! and more music clips too! I hope your got your book optioned for a movie.

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