Page

Call me task.
I was born in
Old New England
and moved to
the South Seas
as but a young
man. In my
youth I was blank.

Page 2

& fell often
I dropped a small fortune
on slots & keno & freaquented
from time to time
brief shed of ill repute
contained partially
behind a clothesline but
also in chile. (–?can’t read?–) hastily
dubbed “Fort Badass Task”
initially concieved
for the sole purpose of
being guarded, “Fort Badass Task”
Quickly fell into disrepair &
became a haven for dropouts
& the short-lived “Just Us” hand
shaking commintern.

Page 3

“Fort Badass Task” was
demolished on my nineteenth
birthday – the Department
of Health described it
as “a cesspool in need
of immediate neutralization”
in a public report. It
was gross, but it was
my second home. My
friends and I used to
play cards there,
drink whiskey, and
reminisce about Chile.
Yet I am nevertheless
grateful for its demise,
for it was only after
“Fort Badass Task” enclosed
that my great adventure
began.

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My adventure started small,
for all I wanted to do was
change the world. Eventually,
that goal grew bigger and bigger
and I found myself shaking hands
with people I did not even know.
Once I reached everyone, I
noticed around me that others
had started. A revolution had
begun. With one person, others
had come together through
tough. Except for one. One
person had threw off the
balance. That person was
Keirkegaard Turk.

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Keirkegaard Turk,
(KT was what all the
hounds called her),
was struck by the
brilliance of the
red flood light.
It entered her eyes
and shined directly
on her soul.
But I remained
uncleansed.

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For it turned out that
Fort Badass Task could
not be so easily forgotten.
I still yearned for the
sinful fulfillment of the Fort.
Instead I turned to KT,
for completion.
KT was not interested.
Nobody was interested.
I fell into a deep depression,
and found myself in the
one place I vowed never
to return, no matter what
the world threw at me…
my mothers basement…

Page 5

The telephone rang.
“Hello?”
“Is this Task?”
“Yeah… maybe. Who’s this?
Whaddaya want?”
“I have a secret for
you.”
“What?”
“I’m your sister. You didn’t
know you had a sister… a very
rich sister. And I’m living
with your ex. Your ex who
says… he still loves you! But
he’s MINE! All mine.”
“Fine. You can have him.

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He snored badly and he can’t
cook.” Task hung up and pulled the
blankets overhead… the phone rang
again.
“Can’t people wait until after
9 AM to call on a Saturday?”
“Uh… Task?”
“Yeah, whaddya want?”
“Well, good morning to you, sunshine.
This is Undone. We met at the
gorcery store… you had gruyere, I
had Velveeta. We talked, you gave me cheese
guidance. I thought we sort of hit it off,
though we could go out for dinner…”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean
to be rude. I just got some bad news.
Please forgive me, it’s nothing personal.”
“Do you remember me?”

Page 6
“Yes, I do… you were so nice to
me. I liked talking to you. Maybe we
can meet for a coffee today? I’ll
buy.”
Silence.
“Am I moving to fast?”
“No. Am I?”
“Uh, no. I should warn you… I
lost everything recently, I’m living in
my mom’s basement.”
“So? We’re just talking, right? People
have setbacks. No one is perfect.”
“I promise. I’ll never try to borrow
money from you.”
“Uh… yeah. Look don’t worry, okay?
We’ll just chat.”
“Undone, I really did like talking to
you. See you at Cafe Toutonnier?”
“Yep.”

Page 6.5

Upstairs, Task heard their pet dog,
Tischbein, barking wildly. But no
one was at the front door. Instead, an
envelope lay in the hallway, where someone
had pushed it under the door. A few words
were written on it in green ink:
I LOVE YOU DESPITE EVERYTHING.
PLEASE PAY THIS BILL BY THE
30TH OF JUNE
There was something hard inside the
envelope. Task shook it, and heard metal
clinking inside.
“At least it doesn’t sound dangerous.”
Tischbein sniffed the envelope, wrinkled
his nose, and wagged his tail. Curious,
Task opened the envelope. Seven gold
coins fell out onto the floor.
The telephone rang again.

Page 7

And he was sad.
We were sad.
They were sad.
For the heat & sun
created a greenhouse
effect & made smells.
But not all was in
despair.
Most were amused
by the on-goings.
Not all is lost.
Some are found.
Others are still
searching…

Page 7.5

I am one of those
still searching. Many times
I’ve found you but then
then I seem to fail you
again. Task, this time
it’s going to be different.
I can see the signs, I
can force my mind open.
I can trust first.
I need only one thing
from you. Maybe you
could pay your half of
the rent. I’m trying not
to be material but…
Oh yeah maybe you

Page 8

could stop kicking my
dog. I know she’s old
but… and that rash
on your arm, it’s start-
ing to smell. And when
you wrecked the car, I
know you were drunk
but cops are asking all
these questions. Damn!
I can feel it coming.
Just give me a minute.
OK! Can I have
a kiss?

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Task would have no
part of this sublime
message. The memory
of his dead mother was
too much with him… and
yet not with him as his
mind wandered from moment
to moment until someone
shouted, “Does anyone want
to play hide & seek?”
“Mother, I don’t want
to play your silly game.

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What about walking tag?”
O.K.
And the group took off into
the library for a rousing
game of “walking tag.”
Task wanted no part of
it. He was tired of games.
He wanted “Truth or Dare”
instead. So he went off
to play “Truth or Dare”
and to forget his dead
Mother when suddenly…

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I left off at that kiss
line back a ways.
However with that rash
I’ll back off & let you
have the bedroom…
Is it catching.
Where did it com
from? I am practical
by nature as well as
looking for distance. If
if – well if you can clean
it up – give me a call
as no one needs another

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rash
…
Task tried not to scratch as
he rested his elbows on the table
in the cafe. Was his housemate’s
rash catching? He’d go to the clinic
tomorrow. Good thing he’d worn long sleeves
today.
There was a flash of reflected light
from the cafe door, and then Undone
was there, smiling at him from across
the table.
“Hi.”
“Hello.”
“Listen, I’m sorry I was so rude this
morning.”
“You had some bad news?”
“Odd news. Found out I have a sister. She’s
wealthy, and in a relationship with
my ex.”

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“Dude that’s awesome!! Maybe you can forget
about your slimey ex now! Is your
sister cute?”

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The End.

already wrote this once but I don’t know what happened to it.

I’m really interested in having the videos edited down to a viewable length. I’ve made some initial calls with little progress so far. I know nothing about video editing. Some thoughts are getting a grant to pay for the editing &/or getting someone at one of the colleges in the Film & Video department to edit it as a class project.

Does anyone else have any ideas about this? Does the Frye Museum or the Seattle Public library have editing facilities?

Afterwards we should have a viewing party for all the participants, organizers, & friends.

I had a fantasitc time at the event!

Katy

Oliver responded:

Hi Katy,
I just noticed the Forum part of the blog.
I’m in the process to have all the footage digitized and will send you (that is the Frye) the DVDs next week. I assume that at least some of you will be interested in viewing the material, which will bring some of you together again. It will also give you a chance to physically see and talk to each other face to face about the material. You don’t’ really need a grant to edit, unless you intend to make this fancy. If some of you got together and spend an afternoon or day on i-movie, or if someone knows final cut pro, you can make some simple cuts and dramatically consolidate and work with the sound and so on. It’s pretty easy if you stay simple.
Good luck and all the best,
Oliver

One of my least favorites was to borrow a stranger’s computer and go to the website badgerbadgerbadger.com. I first couldn’t find anyone to borrow a computer from (and the guy at the Task table for typing in the completed task refused to loan me his), and then I got nervous that I’d go to that website and it would download some horrible virus onto some poor person’s computer. I’m still scared to go to that website. Someone else should go and tell me what’s there! Anyway, I should have been more creative about my interpretation of borrowing a computer and “going” to badgerbadgerbadger.com (I could have created a place by that name). So, a few regrets about things I could have done differently to engage more completely.

That said, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about Task – it’s kind of profoundly affected my outlook on life. I find it interesting to read observers’ impressions because they are so different than my experience – as they should be! I loved the little society we built, with all of its ups and downs, and I loved how everything that happened was a part of the art.

I went back to the library last night just to look at the space again. It was kind of sad.

I think I’m a Task junkie now.

About our props: although I brought along some very non-personal items, I found myself feeling disappointed and a little shocked when I walked through the mess on the first stage and saw my Consumer Reports magazine laying underneath torn paper, markers, cotton balls, torn tape, piles of string, cardboard, cows, and other garbage. It felt wierd that MY THING was just laying there like a piece of trash, so unimportant and unappreciated. I was also shocked that I simply stepped on it and went on.

Another reaction I had: I’d written a task to count the number of books on the little portable bookshelf and post the results; later, when I was sunbathing in my handmade lawnchair, I noticed a piece of white paper taped to the book cart that said “Lots and lots of book.” At first I was thinking “Hey!! That’s not what I meant!! Why didn’t you REALLY count the books!?!?” Since I was pretty wiped out, I could only be briefly shocked and disappointed, then sort of thinking thru the whole thing and how we all can interpret each task as we wish and how the tasks I authored are no different. Maybe the person who wrote the tasks that I performed intended me to do them differently than I did as well. Funny how I have to go through a lot of thought to accept that the same rules apply to me.

Anyhow, thanks Oliver. That was a once-in-a-lifetime experience that I won’t forget.

I’m not sure if i had more fun doing my own tasks or working on the tasks of others which required multiple participants.

A task that i felt was successful was one that i don’t think was posted, because i found it in my pocket later that day: “Make yourself an egg. Make yourself a nest. Find yourself a mamma to sit on you until you hatch.” I got my mamma to “b-b-bock” as i “cheep”-ed upon hatching.

One task that i wrote was “use 14 props to create a model of a room you once lived in.” I didn’t really know what to expect when i wrote the task. But when I walked by the diorama sitting next to the Task desk, I was astounded. The detail put into it was beautiful. I think it was one of the few tangible tasks that wasn’t destroyed in the carnage of it all.

BTW, mark b, i have the “novel” if you would like to see the contents. I’m working on transcribing the text to post online somewhere…