Comment

Comment by Bob Conge / PLASEEBO on August 27, 2012 at 4:54pm

Thank you PD and John for your kind words. It is gratifying to know you took the time to read the story. I think most folks are not willing to invest the time to read them and so the stories become the keys to an understanding only those who are meant to see are able to unlock. It is the answer to Pink Floyds question, "is anybody out there ?" and you offer a resounding "YES".

Comment by John Trimmer | Acolorfulmonster on August 27, 2012 at 2:45pm

You always have the best backstories Mr. Conge, great comment too Paperdaniel

Comment by Paperdaniel on August 27, 2012 at 1:40pm

Wonderful backstory. Hauntingly beautiful stuff Bob, and I marvel at our similar belief systems. We live as semi-amalgams. The mind, if allowed to do what it was meant to do, will use only the most useful materials, and hang them on the true structure of the universe. It follows a framework that appears to be older than time itself. Maybe we do this so we can map the territory...so we are not traveling here blindly. A mindful human has a mind that is like a fine alloy of many fables and myths that support or bring understanding to his own personal experiences. This backstory hints at the cores of a few very old 'archetypes.' I bet Jung and Ouspensky..and even Campbell, would be stoked to see our creation story never ends- it just keeps being re-told.

Comment by Bob Conge / PLASEEBO on August 27, 2012 at 1:05am

And here is the backstory:

                                                                          The Misfits
                                                                    © Bob Conge 2012


A familiar face at the Avon flea market every Sunday since the 60's, Walter would spend the cooler mornings in search of the maimed and abandoned toys of children no longer. He rarely paid more than ten or fifteen cents a piece for the ravaged figures as most were missing limbs or heads. The collection being assembled was not about condition, resale or profit.

These were much more than idols made of plastic and vinyl, for Walter could feel the spirits and hear the distant laughter of the many children who had once worshiped these love-worn toys. To him, these toys were markers in lives unfolding, indelibly printed with the character of those who had played with them so many years ago. Holding each one in his now aging hand, he would listen to its story and wonder what had become of the child later in life.

Walter enjoyed many comfortable evenings with the collection in the old farm house nestled in the rolling hills of upstate New York. He had retired here after a lifetime of inventing and designing useful things for various companies and then spent the next twenty some years assembling the collection that now filled not only all three floors of the house, but his barn as well.

This past winter Walter began working on his Geppetto project. He hoped to design a system to capture the psychic energy he felt being released from the old toys and use it to power the robot toy he was building.

It was now late fall and the the robot body, complete with arms and legs, sat on the work bench awaiting its head and power source. It was one of those unusually warm and sun filled days that are so rare this time of year, perhaps the last one before the snow would again cocoon Walter with his collection for another winter. Drawn by the cunning day, he found himself walking through the Naples yellow fields beyond the barn. Feeling the liability of his eighty plus years, he sat down beneath the comfort of the large and singular Maple in the middle of the fields warmth and fell asleep.

Walter was awakened by the voices of children to find he was covered by what looked like a soft blanket of diamonds glistening in the moonlight. He stood up wondering why he did not feel the cold of this night. The answer came as he looked down to his snow covered body still lying beneath the tree.

Long before this ground became tillable it was the now long forgotten cemetery for the Crowhaven orphanage, who's stone foundations still shown through the grass here and there at the edge of the woods. The field has been home these many years to those unknown children for whom no one came, save the reaper. Moving like curious cats, the children slowly floated over to Walter wherein he invited them to come to the house to see his toys.

As they entered the house, there on the workbench sat the headless robot with its power source window glowing in an array of changing colors like a miniature aurora borealis. The rest of that winter and many since found Walter building other robot bodies and the children selecting various heads from the collection to sit atop them. Misfits one and all.

Comment by Bob Conge / PLASEEBO on August 23, 2012 at 2:00pm

Thanks John. Much appreciated.

Comment by John Trimmer | Acolorfulmonster on August 23, 2012 at 12:04pm

These are going to be sooo sick, you've out done yourself sir!

Comment by Bob Conge / PLASEEBO on August 7, 2012 at 2:25pm

HEADS UP !

Comment by Dead Presidents on August 4, 2012 at 9:47pm

Dome !!!!!!!

Comment by Bob Conge / PLASEEBO on August 3, 2012 at 12:37am

Thanks PD. Attempting casting these as I flesh out the backstory. I am really liking the backstory, the main character is a toy collector / customizer of sorts.

Comment by Paperdaniel on August 2, 2012 at 7:27pm

Oh, I can't wait to see this Bob. What I can see looks imaginatively twisted as usual. That awesome Plaseebo style: 2scoops of creepy, and then fortified with a dash of vitamins like style..and class. Can't wait to see what you have done here. I already like it due to the Apollo style "bubble" helmet. There was this old episode of Scooby doo..the original one..where these skeletons were in space-suits and bubble-helmets. A few stills from that episode were always used in the opening Scooby credits and theme song. The skeletons made crazy electronic wailing sounds and had glowing red eyes. I love a skull in a bubble-helmet. It's an excellent image.

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