by Travis Mateer
Is it possible to unify a town by creating a threat so terrible that everyone forgets their differences and comes together to protect what’s important? What terrible threat could produce such a result? Maybe Plato can help us out with a quote:
“No one is more hated than he who speaks the truth”
The latest evidence that my presence is despised by some people in this town came as a 30 day notice to get the fuck out of my studio. Cool. I better get busy destroying this:
Don’t worry, I’m getting very good at destroying things, so taking out this entire town should be no problem. I’m referring to the LEGO town, people, so chill the fuck out.
I’m sure the pastor at the A River Runs Through It church wishes I would chill the fuck out, since my hope to start my GOOD SAMARITAN GONE BAD tour at his iconic 5th street location was communicated in texts that I’ve heard caused quite a stir.
Why this church? To fully answer that, too much hated TRUTH would have to be utilized, so I’ll try to parse it down to what I’ll some day use in my hilarious comedy routine.
The dude who owns the building where my studio is located for 30 more days attends this church, along with his wife, a marriage counselor. And here’s the funny part: she was MY marriage counselor.
Did I know this before signing the lease? No, I did not, and that’s on me. When you live in INCEST TOWN, it’s important to do one’s due diligence, and I did not. In my defense, I was a little desperate after having my previous lease ended in a similar manner by the ZACC. I’m sure my criticism of Lord Checota had nothing to do with that.
The truth is I’ve been going through a divorce and the floors of my art studios have been my temporary places to crash as I have tried to figure out my new life. You see, after being in a committed relationship for over two decades, this new life is taking just a little time to get used to.
Before I started this new life I would sometimes walk into the church my family attended for a church service, but if I could time travel, I’d go back to December 24th, 2021, and stay FAR AWAY from that supposed house of God and one of its attendees who reached out to me that evening as I left.
Since no lawyers anywhere seem interested in taking my money, I may never know who made that first complaint a month into my time here, a complaint about “unprofessional noises” coming from my studio. You know, the grunts and thumps that might be heard if one is working out with weights, which I do regularly for my mental health.
The only other tenant close to me was sad to hear the news when I told her I was being told to vacate the premises, so I don’t think the other complaints were coming from her, complaints about the odor of Cannabis, and speculation that I was “living” there, when “living” there was not an approved use of the space. Well, when that was pointed out, I countered that NOT HAVING A KEY to my actual studio for months made me worried about leaving my remaining possessions unattended at night.
While I figure out my next steps, I want to assure the worried pastor that his flock has nothing to worry about from ME because I’m finally learning it’s pointless to fight back when ignorance is the preference of the majority. My own mother agrees, I’m a great example of what happens when you step out of line, and that one dead black man euthanized by our Sheriff’s Office just isn’t worth it. No, she didn’t use THAT word–she’s a good Presbyterian, not a Christian Nationalist–and really the disregard would have been the same for ANY corpse that her son latched onto as a righteous cause.
Thanks for reading!