You can't judge a sewer by its manhole cover! No, sir, people can be very different under the surface than they might seem... Quiet, mild-mannered souls just might turn out to be roaring lions of two-fisted cool! And roaring lions of two-fisted cool just might have some crippling Lobster problems! Listen man, it's all crazy down there under the surface! A lost wallet could bite you in half! A bar of soap could save your life... and... egad! A disgusting mound of muck might have some very compelling ideas! Do you dig my ditch?
-Ben Edlund, "The Tick vs. Filth"

The Story Before, Part 1:
Tick Tock, Tick Talk

In the back half of my college years, every once in a while, I'd run into somebody at a party who lived in McDavid during my freshman year, but that I didn't know very well any more than they knew me. And a lot of the time, as we made our way through forced, awkward conversation, they'd mention that they still remembered that haiku about my foot-long schlong I did at Open Mike Night that first week at FARC.

That haiku constitutes the first impression of Clark at college for a few people out there.

Well, the following constitutes the first impression of Lenar in high school for a lot of people.

In 1996, I'd never been on the internet, had no idea who Joe Kelly was (though I did own his fill-in issue of Daredevil) and I was totally in love with The Tick. The Tick's over the top non sequitur speeches absolutely floored me, and I'd be lying if I said that they don't continue to inform what I laughingly refer to as "my voice" to this day. So I wrote a collection of -- poems? essays? -- in my closest approximation of his style, printed up a hundred copies, and distributed them to my classmates like I was the fucking shit.

In preparing this particular entry, I had the chance to reread them.

I was not the fucking shit.

Nevertheless, if I run into somebody I went to high school with whom I've just completely lost track of, chances are, they'll tell me they still have their copy of "Tick Tock, Tick Talk" stashed away somewhere.

It's a prime example of my early attempts at writing for an audience with my freetime, and without "Tick Tock, Tick Talk," there'd be no thestorythusfar.blogspot.com, and we're just going to pretend that'd be a bad thing so we can get on with the main event.

It's my goal in this series to present you with the baby steps in my development as a belle-lettrist as plainly and honestly as possible, warts and all. It's also my hope that by revisiting my storytelling past I can build a better future. The plan was to give it to you straight, without cleaning up the egregious spelling and grammar errors and with a minimum of commentary other than an introduction to place each piece in its proper context. And I will... Just not this time. Because unlike the work that will follow -- which I've retrieved from computer files and tagged in glorious html -- I had to retype this entire entry using the handwritten originals, and couldn't stop myself from making snide remarks when appropriate.

(I was pretty drunk at the time, too. So some of the spelling errors may have been New Me, not Old Me.)

Anyhoozle, oh what heights will hit! On with the show, this is it!

Introduction
Greetings, chums, my name is Lenar Clark.

I've been known to tick people off, so I'm using the pen name of the Tick (which is short for the Ticker-Offer). [Clark's Note: This is a lie.]

I've written this book, because my mind's a pool of knowledge, and I want for people far and wide to get the chance to dip their toes into that great pool.

A couple of quick points befroe you continue, chums.

Each insight is titled "The Tick vs. 'SUBJECT'".

The "vs." doesn't necessarily mean that I'm against the subject, it just means that I'm dishing out knowledge on it. [Clark's Note: What... the fuck?]

So, continue now, into my mind, where you'll find new and exciting things (I always do)!

SPOON!!!

[Clark's Note: Oh right. The spooning. This was a bad idea...]

The Tick vs. the Beginning
Everything that has, does, or will exist was spawned from somewhere.

For some things, that somewhere was the womb of their children's grandmother

For others, it was the vision of a genius

As for this, this was spawned from the bowels of the twisted and diluted mind of The Tick (which is short for the Ticker-Offer) [Clark's Note: Seriously. Nobody's buying that!]

But I warn you now chums, all good things must come to an end, so don't be surprised when you come to the "The Tick cs. The End" and don't find anything after that! [Clark's Note: "Surprised"? No. "Relieved". That's the word.]

With that in the back of your mind, leap off of your karma torpedo for a sec, and dive into the pool of knowledge that is my mind with you mascara running and a cry of
Spoon!!!

The Tick vs. Love
What is love? Love's not a dog. Love's not a big giant whale running across America. [Clark's Note: ...]

Love is love. [Clark's Note: ...]

That feeling you get when an attractive girl metaphorically stabs you in the chest, slices it open, and pulls your heart out.

[Clark's Note: Sadly, revisiting these words is like reciting the Pledge of Allegiance of the Lord's Prayer. I must have said this out loud... many many times.]

When a heart falls to the floor, you don't just pick it up and play football with it.

It fell in the dirt! You can't just brush it off and pretend like nothing happened. {Clark's Note: Actually... you can.]

You took that heart from where it belongs, little missie!Now, saying you're sorry isn't going to ressurrect that boy's immortal soul!

Redemption doesn't work that way!

And if you think he has any interest in just being your friend, you don't belong in an honors class!

Did he really ask for that much?

Just your eternal love!

You don't know what love is, lady, until you've been rejected a record twenty-three time in nine years!

[Clark's Note: I didn't get any in high school. Weird, right?]

You think you've got a clue on how much time he's devoted to you, I'll tell you you're wrong.

'cause the fine line between mild interest and obsession is too easily blurred in today's society.

So put that heart back where you found it, sow his chest back up, and treat him with some respect.

Give him a chance, even if he's not a football star, and uses words slight to big, and puts time and hard work into his sentences. [Clark's Note: Ha!]

He's still a human being!

SPOON!!!

The Tick vs. Stapler
When you turn in an assignment in english class, and you want to staple your papers together, you don't knock over a desk.

You wait for the stapler.

The Stapler's a beautiful thing that seems to shine in the fluorescent lights of the classroom. [Clark's Note: Ohhhh. This must have been a metaphor for a girl.]

It's part of your life, and when it's missing you miss it. [Clark's Note: Yep. Metaphor.]

Often, you wish that you knew the stapler better.

Everyone else seems to, they know it's name, and it knows theirs.

Sometimes, you feel like you and the stapler are growing closer.

That maybe, just maybe, you have a chance of being happy together.

Then, big words, and long sentences get in the way, and the stapler doesn't seem to like you.

It stops stapling correctly. [Clark's Note: That happened to me at work a while ago. There was a bent staple wedged in there. I pried it out with a letter opener. It's fine now.]

It starts to staple crookedly, or releases to many staples. [Clark's Note: Wait. Maybe this is a metaphor for me and I was more active back then than I though. No. Probably not. Continue.]

All of this mayhem starts to rub of on your assignment, [Clark's Note: Heh. He said "rub off"...] and it starts to look tattered and torn.

Then you wish you'd never met the stapler, and it wished it had never met you.

No matter what your friends tell you, you still love the staple.

But life's not like a sitcom. [Clark's Note: You don't say!]

You can't start over. [Clark's Note: Oh yeah! I hate when they do that in shows... some guy screws up and asks if he can start over, sticks out his hand and says, "Hi, I'm Zack Morris." Christ on a bike!]

The stapler's branded you a loser, and that brand doesn't look as cool as everyone elses.

Instead of a (B) or a (Y), you've got a great big L [Clark's Note: (with appropriate hand gestures) Like, whatever, major loser. Like, "Hello?" Get a grip...]

Do you dig my ditch, man?! [Clark's Note: No. No, I don't.]

SPOON!!! [Clark's Note: You're killing me with that crap.]

The Tick vs. the Past
When you look for your seventh grade year book, and can't find it, do you smash your dad's grandfather clock? [Clark's Note: Yes. Clearly, you do.]

Of course not! [Clark's Note: What?!]

That's crazy! [Clark's Note: Who the fuck are you calling crazy, spaz?!]

You just realize that you never bought one, and move on with your life. [Clark's Note: Oh. Right. The "Secret Origin of Clark".]

It was never as good as you think it was.

And you would've bought one if you really wanted it. [Clark's Note: Kinda like hookers...]

She's gone, and you'll never see her again.

She's probably left 31 Birch, and probably has a new boyfriend.

Move on with your life, because it's too short, even if you don't like your currect situation! [Clark's Note: You little shit! Like you'd actually do this!]

SPOON!!!

The Tick vs. Homecoming
When the Denver Broncos play a game at Mile High Stadium, do you dance for joy?

Probably not. [Clark's Note: Remember when the Broncos were great?]

When the Chargers play in San Diego, do you dress up to go to school on a Saturday night?

No!

So why do you have to ask a girl to a dance to go on your first date?

You don't know what you're doing! [Clark's Note: Ten years later, you ain't doing much better...]

You're still on the quest within yourself. [Clark's Note: Is that a euphemism for masturbation? I bet it is...]

You're still trying to find your self in a sea of other guys who aren't you.

But you've got a job to do, mister, and a dream to fulfill, so stop shifting through those bodies, brush yourself off, and get back to four hundred hall.

With a cry of "Spoon!" and nothing but your love to offer [Clark's Note: Nobody wants that. Get a job!], track her down, and ask her if she's ready to come home. [Clark's Note: Jesus! How on the nose can you get?!]

And if [Clark's Note: Read "when"] she says no, dive back into that sea, mister, and don't come back unless you're wearting a mask of your former self.

Spoon!!!

The Tick vs. the Normal Guy
What is "normal"? [Clark's Note: Even if I tried to explain...]

I could find a dictionary, and find out, but I don't feel like getting up, and it's been done to death. [Clark's Note: Smooth move, Captain Comma-Splice.]

When you're simply expressing yourself, and someone tells you to act "normal," ask them what a normal guy acts like. [Clark's Note: Because you really want to take advice from a guy callig himself "The Ticker-Offer"...]

The normal guy was born on August 6 and was born in Aimes, Iowa, and started playing T-ball, and basketball at age five.

He had an average skill at is, average intellect, and an average amount of friends. [Clark's Note: If only you could be that lucky...]

He's never accomplished much in his life. [Clark's Note: You missed the bit about having friends and not being a spaz... didn't you?]

Are you like that, or can you swing a dog like nobody's business?

Can you staple dance with the best of them?

Are you good at math?

Well than, [Clark's Note: Where math sores, grammar stumbles...] gather together, chums, for we are the irregulars of the world, and we've got to watch out for the Normal Guy (and shoot the Normal Guy on sight). [Clark's Note: Remember... this was pre-Columbine. This type of thing was not only cool, it was totally ignored by guidance counselors and relevant faculty.]

Follow me, and I will lead us into battle with a brave heart, courageous mind, and a cry of...

[Clark's Note: Wait for it...]

SPOON!!!

The Tick vs. the Tick
[Clark's Note: This oughta be good...]
When someone's screaming at you, and no one's around, you know that yoiur mind's playing games with you.

You can whine and cry all you want, buddy, but if youi want it to stop, you've got to reach deep within yourself, slap your mind silly, and deal with it.

The mind is something that really boggles the mind. [Clark's Note: Sadly, I'm sure I thought this was really clever at the time.]

If you want to figure it out, you've got to hit yourself over the head with that Louisville Slugger [Clark's Note: Maybe that's why I find Kirsten Dunst's performance in Elizabethtown so fucking sexy... {Clark's Follow-up Notation: I was pretty hammered at this point. I have no idea what I meant by this.}] and knock yourself out, [Clark's Note: And that's why I like Jon Brion's songs in I Heart Huckabees!] and go on a wild romp in your head

When inside, be prepared to battle psyche demons, and find things you never expected, or wanted to see.

The journey into your mind is a dangerous, and tiring trip into the bowels of your subconscious.

'cause when you stare the abyss in the face, and walk away with a full skin you've conquered the world in your mind.

SPOON!!!

The Tick vs. Dickey
[Clark's Note: Yes! Fight the ascots next!]
When you write a sentence using both melancholy, and adamant sin the same sentence, you'd liketo think that'd you'd get an "A".

When you use allitteration to the point of obsession [Clark's Note: Also known in comic-book writing circles as: Stan-Lee-itous], you think that maybe you've done a good job [Clark's Note: If, you know, you're an idiot.]

Well mister, if you're gonna walk on water, you're only gonna walk all over me! [Clark's Note: Remember when Counting Crows was cool? And keep in mind... the lead singer did two-thirds the female cast of Friends... back in 1997, at their peak... and the hot two-thirds.]

Because the professor thinks you'll be satisfied with a high "B" [Clark's Note: I swear to God, my mother would cry for A's at the time.]

He's sadly misaken.

You'll somehow discover his secret, and show an unbelieving world the power of...

SPOON!!!

The Tick vs. the Dump
When you think you've finally got a date to the big dance, and it turns out to be a hoax, do you smile and say "Okay." [Clark's Note:Yeah. Probably...]

Sure, [Clark's Note: I was right!] but really you feel like shoving your thumbs into your eyes and popping them out.

The dumped man's world isn't a fun place to be, mister, [Clartk's Note: Really? Well get used to it, assholde... {Clark's Secondary Notation: See? I'm mispelling words in the notes. I was plastered! You would have to be to retype this and live!] but when she says it's over, there's no turning back.

You've just got to accept the fact that highschool girls can't commit [clark's Note; It changes in college. I swear], and pray that Cupid's shaft [Clark's Note: You're damn right...] will never again plague your life, 'cause when she's eathing her luch next to some other guy [Clark's Note: The death of any serious high school relationship...] you know that you're the last thing on her home [Clark's Note: ...]

You'll never, never, never, never, never be together again

No, no, no, no, no.

What you fear in the night in the day comes to call anyway, chums [Clark's Note: So says Adam Duritz...]

SPOON!!!

The Tick vs. the Amazing/Spectacular/Sensational Spider-Man
Life is not a comic (except for Amazing Spider-Man #404 [Clark's Note: In which Peter prepares to learn that he's actually a clone of himself... which wasn't even true in the long run...])

Life is a karma torpedo [Clark's Note: No. It's not.] bound for the state of Maine.

In a comic book exposure to radiation doesn't kill you, it gives you FANTASTIC powers, UNCANNY abilities, or INCREDIBLE strength.

Life isn't a comic, chums, and comics aren't life. [Clark's Note: Liar!!!]

So, if you find yourself talking a forty minute bike ride through the blinding blizzard to get the latest issue of Daredevil, your a sad, sick, twisted little man in need of a social life [Clark's Note: Duh!], and a girlfriend. [Clark's Note: HA!]

When you stick your hands into your wallet, and find it as empty as the rest of your soulless life, you know that you're not taking MJ any where, any time soon, 'cause dinner and a movie costs money, pal.

Do you dig my ditch, man? [Clark's Note: Pretty sure you asked this already... No.]

SPOON!!!

The Tick vs. the Little Paper-Boy
Sometimes you're all alone, so you try to make some new friends,

But, when they see you staple dance, [Clark's Note: Seriously. What the hell, man?!] they decide that they've got too many friends as it is

So, you've got to make a friend.

When you don't have any extra lumber lying around, you go to the next best thing, paper.

And so, you and your new sidekick, go out into the world to battle against things, like Rude Girl, and Homecoming.

Little Paper-boy's a brave little soldier, ready to help you at a moment's notice, until the world decides that you two've dished out enough justice.

That's ehn evil's advocates grab Little Paper-boy and tear him limb from limb like so much notebook paper.

How do you move on?

How do you mourn the loss of such a brave soul [clark's Note: Assuming you want to carry odd but faked emotional issues with you for years to come...]?

You bury his legs in a pile of trash, and walk away with a heavy hearth and a cry of...

SPOON!!!

The Tick vs. the Rude Girl
We're all just riding the karma torpedo of life, chums, but when the torpedo misfires and we hit a snag, things get a little chunky.

When you're just talking to your sidekick, and someone tells you to "shut up" [Clark's Note: Shut up!] out of the red, white, and blue, you feel a sensation close to the removal of your spinal column. [Clark's Note: Uh-huh.]

When someone decides to dish on your handwriting for the simple purpose of getting high off of your suffering, you know that she's the one your friends warned you about. [Clark's Note: And again, I think it strange to assume you have friends...]

I'll tell you this little missie, just because you might be a tad more organized, doesn't mean you can play games with a young boy mind

What's so wrong with being polite that you just can't stand it?

SPOON!!!

The Tick vs. Life
Life's a karma torpedo [Clark's Note: There's that strange metaphor again...] bound for the state of Maine, when you really think about it.

The torpedo's driven forward by a force you don't understand (unless you've studied jet propulsion)

It's also headed for a place few completely understand

But the water's alot colder hurtling north, and it's getting alot thicker

Ice starts to get in the way, and we can only pray that the torpedo's not gonna suddenly explode, because that'd be a vey gooey mess, and I don't think your ready to clean up after yourself. [Clark's Note: or something.]

SPOON!!!

The Tick vs. SPOON!!!
When the British are coming, and you need musketballs, it's time to melt your silverware, pal, because your ring just won't cut it

It's not about Whigs and Tories anymore, it's about US and that United Kingdom

So when that silversmith's riding on his horse, and judging people by the color of their jackets, in the middle of the night, you know that he's not gonna make it to Lexington, it's up to Prescott, M.D.

Get up out of your bed, and get dressed because you've got a shot to shoot that's gotta be heard around the world.

And as you load your gun, and run out to the battlefield, take your shots at those scarlet-clad men [Clark's Note: This and the jacket thing is a strained and pained "red-coat" metaphor, right? But is he talking about the plot of "Johnny Tremain" or am I fat crackers?]

Remember what you gave up, and call its name...

SPOON!!!

The Tick vs. the End
All good things must come to an end, chums, and this is the end of this good thing that must come

Or is it?

[Clark's Note: Yes. It is.]

There's always something from anything that keeps going.

That's part of the karma torpedo we call life [Clark's Note: Oh right. There was a Tick comic called karma tornado. I got confused, thought it was torpedo, and just ran with it.]

I mean, if enough people read the book, or watched the movie, there's always a spinoff, or a sequel.

Next time, I will address the issues that plagues adolescents head on.

If you've got a question, or a problem, write it down with your name on it (or not) and drop it into Locker Number #239, [Clark's Note: I guess this was my locker, freshman year] and wait for my next book

Until then, I remain

The Tick!

(Which is short for the Ticker-Offer)

[Clark's Note: I'm pretty sure all of the printed copies of this ended with a note explaining that the Tick was killed in battle with the Green Goblin, so there wouldn't be anymore books. Thus began a lifelong love affair with killing characters off and inexplicably bringing them back, as I always meant to write "Tic Tac Toe, Tick Talk 2" but just never got around to it, what with all the class work and being a sad sack and all...]

SPOON!!!

Wow. Everybody okay? Is your buddy still with you? Check your person. Make sure you didn't drop anything while we were in there. Not that I'd risk going back for it even if you did. All right. *Whew*

In our next installment, the grammar gets a little better, the spelling improves, and events have a slightly stronger basis on a discernible reality.

NEXT:
Nevermind, 1999
(Unless I find that disc Neufeld burned of "Clarky Clarkington III vs. the Bunny-Bun-Bunnies"...)