Murdoch Lamarche

Coverage of Beach Sloth’s Coverage of My Coverage of Beach Sloth’s coverage of ‘2AM Interview: Buttercup and LK’

Beach Sloth and I are both firm believers in the power of online anonymity. But Beach Sloth has a slightly less rigid adherence to its tenets. I am a cyberghost. I exist in the kerning of alt lit. No one has ever seen Murdoch LaMarche in person. Someday in the future someone most likely will. Anything that can happen probably will happen. A private investigator could probably unearth my true identity, and one brave soul has set up a fund to hire one to get to the bottom of this. His name is Beach Sloth and if you make a nominal donation to the “Find Murdoch’s True Identity Fund” via paypal, he’ll send you a copy of his lovely chapbook. He has assured me that all proceeds are going to this worthy cause. (None of that is necessarily “true”, but you should buy his book anyway.)

But this is not a manifesto about my most secret of identities or a fundraising drive, this is coverage of Beach Sloth’s coverage of my coverage of Beach Sloth’s coverage of “2AM Interview: Buttercup and LK”. Beach Sloth was glum regarding his lack of online coverage, and I, being his confederate in confidentiality, sensed his chagrin, and filled that void. In addition to ‘I want to YouTube down the Rivers of America’  devouring his time and energy, Beach Sloth is far too humble to write something as self-serving as coverage of himself. Despite my general goals of supervillainy, I saw a golden opportunity to kick him a little boost.

Alt lit is in dire need of accents. Accents breed legitimacy. Alt lit’s in the process of acquiring a wider array of accents, including Mongolian. The Mongolians are working on their cementing their national brand right now, but that’ll be done soon. Prepare yourselves for an onslaught of Mongolian chapbooks.

Currently there is hearsay that Buttercup is amassing an army to overthrow the chokehold chili has on humanity. Buttercup is a very busy man. It’s not easy having to explain the origin of your name to every person you’re introduced to, but Buttercup rises to the challenge. With so many conflicting explanations for this name floating around it’s hard to determine which is true. Well I followed the leads, I called in some favors to a few dirty cops, and I got to the bottom of this mystery. Now, please remember, this information is strictly on the “DL” but before become the internet phenom he is today, Mr. McGillicuddy was a member of the crime-fighting trio The Powerpuff Girls. Along with his sisters, Blossom and Bubbles, Buttercup dished out the ass kicking daily. Buttercup had a split with the other Powerpuffs due to creative differences, and completely rebranded himself, but kept his name so he would never forget his Powerpuff roots. Powerpuff roots are the strongest kind fo roots.

LK Shaw has her own dark hidden past. After her long run as the star of I Love Lucy, she went into the rap game. Yes, that’s right. The LK actually stands for Lil Kim. Shaw is obviously short for Shawty. But like Buttercup, the game got to be too much so she fled the spotlight and rebranded. LK and Buttercup are masters of rebranding. Was LK involved in killing Biggie? Probably. I’m not saying she pulled the trigger necessarily, but…she probably did. I cashed out on favors with dirty cops investigating Buttercup, so I couldn’t dig deeper into this conspiracy, but I’m certain the evidence is there. Somewhere.

Miller High Life is the Champagne of Beers. Alt lit is the Champagne of Literature. Next time you’re reading some alt lit, break out a 40 of the High Life and you’ll truly be living the high lief. But remember to pour some out and shed a single tear for all the cockboys Steve Roggenbuck has lost while on his quest to LIVE MY [miller high] LIEF.

Alt lit is full of URL anthropomorphic creatures. Contrary to popular belief I am not an anthropomorphized creature capable of using the internet. I am a supervillain. The gazelle is pure misdirection. The wide array of nonhuman URL presences keeps things interesting. Beach Sloth calls out Sea Cheetah. Recently rumors in the alt lit circles have been circulating of a pay-per view death match between these two nemeses. My money’s on the Sloth. I forsee a Tortoise&Hare/Ali&Foreman crossover with Beach Sloth riding the slow and steady ropeadope train to victory junction, all the while protected by the armor of his Twitter ratio.

Coverage of Beach Sloth’s Coverage of “2AM Interview: Buttercup and LK”

Beach Sloth [here] [here] [here] [here] is unbelievably prolific. His output is impressive by human standards, but it’s especially impressive considering he’s a sloth. Sloths are notoriously slow, but Beach Sloth bucks that stereotype with fervency. If it’s an important happening within the alt lit world, the Sloth will be there with coverage of it. But, unfortunately, poor Beach Sloth is so busy covering everyone else, he does not get much of that coverage for himself. Sloths are notorious for their lack of self-indulgent coverage.

Recently, Beach Sloth covered an interview of Buttercup McGillicuddy by LK Shaw (which also turns into an interview of LK Shaw by Buttercup McGillicuddy.)This interview is a bit of a beast. Beach Sloth begins his coverage referencing summer being the ideal time for harvesting the delicious interview fruits. Like all good things related to alt lit, this takes place URL. Beach Sloth is an avid advocate of the G chat interview, even going so far as to imply that any roof that has ever been raised was a direct result of G chat. Every dance in the 90s was at some point influenced by the time spanning power of G chat.

Buttercup and LK are adored by Beachy. He’s only met Buttercup once IRL, but that was enough to leave a lasting impression on his sloth heart. He hopes to meet LK, and expand upon his limited knowledge of her. He may not know much about her, but he does know the most important piece of information about anyone from another place in the world. Novelty accents. LK Shaw was put on earth to ‘class up’ the alt lit game with her English accent.

Chili is a very important subject in this interview/coverage. Most chili of unknown origin is more than likely an escapee from Satan’s kitchen. Satan has enriched his chili with the powers to skip out on subway fare and stop the hearts of lesser men, but Buttercup is resilient. He pushes through the devil’s attacks and carries on the interview. Beach Sloth is very worried about the current war on humanity waged by chili. But with Buttercup leading the resistance humanity will soldier on.

Futons are the mark of any true artist. Rumor has it that even I sleep on a futon from time to time. Veganism is discussed, but not in the typical condescending fashion. LK is too classy for that. Buttercup needs dairy products. Without them he’d just be a cup, and there would be no opportunity for the inebriated to sing “Build Me Up Buttercup” to him. “Build Me Up Cup” just doesn’t have the same razzamatazz. Beach Sloth fishes, but unlike [Butter]Cup, he only fishes for compliments. I think you’ve hooked one Beachy, you’re a solitary diamond in a field of broken Miller High Life bottles.

The movie-making skills of Buttercup enthrall Beach Sloth. He even had a cameo in “Dead Midgets” as “random shirtless dude #18”. Of all the random shirtless dudes, Beach Sloth really brought the qualities of being “random” “shirtless” and a “dude” to life. When award season for double-digit cameos by alt lit sloth writers comes around, be sure to look out for Beachy. If he gets stiffed this year I’m staging a boycott of all future Double Digie ceremonies.

The coverage turns to the slightly macabre as Beach Sloth wonders about the post-life life of his URL presence. He thinks his online presence is his best quality. Having never met him IRL, I am forced to assume that this is true. If his children are unwilling or unable to maintain his presence in his post-life future, I would be more than happy to pick up the sloth torch. Beach Sloth has mentioned in the past his disdain for his children’s online presence and their affinity for tagging every tweet #kidzbop. I am wholeheartedly ambivalent about a #kidzbop saturated post-life Beach Sloth. But my offer still stands to pick up the mantle of the sloth.

The coverage stands in stark contrast to the unedited feel of the original interview. It is potentially life-changing. And if your life is so flippant that coverage of a G Chat interview between two alt lit minds by an alt lit sloth changes it, let’s be friends. I may be a supervillain, but I’m also a superfriend.

So, for you, sitting at the laptop, wondering what direction your life could possibly go in after reading the Buttercup/LK interview, allow me to suggest the extravagant afterparty that is Beach Sloth’s coverage.

(Note: Murdoch LaMarche is in no way affiliated with the superhero clique known as The Superfriends)

Never Curve

On an island, standing at the edge of the water
The moon is probably full, maybe. It looks like it, but I’m not really sure
Either way it’s bright, and that’s our only light source
We are standing there as the water washes over our feet
It feel fantastic
My tongue is burnt from a Mexican hot chocolate from earlier in the day
The heat had been record breaking
Days and days of temperatures above 100 degree
But I am never one to turn down a Mexican hot chocolate
The girl I’m with is halfway through a book on how to be zen
I forget the title, but she was enthralled with its teachings
She is telling me to vocalize every sensory experience of the moment
She wants to fully appreciate this with all of my sense
My tongue is still burnt from that Mexican hot chocolate
I am smelling and tasting this cheap cigarette.
All I smoke these days are cheap cigarettes.
She doesn’t smoke.
I’m hearing the sounds of the waves crashing into the shore and our calves
I’m hearing her tell me about to focus on the nowness of all of this
I feel the cool water rushing over me.I feel the sand rushing under my feet
She and I are inadvertently talking over each other, but I’m barely listening to myself
“This is a perfect metaphor for the flow of time” she says
“Our feet our planted in this spot. That is our present. This is all we can experience.
“Embrace it.”
“The water is the future coming under its own power and affecting our present feet
“The sand beneath our feet is the past, as soon as we realize it’s there, the future is washing it away.”
She continues speaking in metaphors from a half-completed zen handbook.
I quit listening to her and started mumbling everything I sensed again,
I hear you speaking. I hear the wind. I hear the ocean.
I feel the waves. I feel the sand. I feel the smoke entering my lungs. I feel the breeze. I feel my burnt tongue.
I smell the smoke. I smell the ocean. I think I smell her. She probably smells like some fair trade organic bodywash or something. I can’t say for sure
I taste the salt air. I taste the smoke.
I see the light from the moon reflected on the water. I see her. I see the warm glow from the end of my cigarette. I see the infinite horizon. I see the waves.
She says something that grabs my attention. I cease my sensory ramblings, and ask her to repeat herself
She decides that was should go for a walk along the edge of the ocean. I think that’s a great idea
We do.
I don’t know how long we walked, but eventually one of of decides to stop and we both run into the ocean.
Now we are there, thigh deep in the ocean, waves crashing over our bodies.
I threw my lighter and cigarettes somewhere in the sand. I would find them eventually.
But we are in the ocean. For some reason we started screaming Against Me!’s “The Ocean” at the top of our lungs in the seemingly infinite darkness of the ocean at night. We don’t necessarily know all the lyrics, but that doesn’t stop us.
Finally, she says her clothes are wet and uncomfortable so we should go back inside. “Everyone else is asleep anyway. We can just change and sit outside.”
It’s getting late. So we sit outside and listen to a variety of music that epitomizes youth culture’s ever expanding tastes.
I smoke cigarette after cigarette for hours.
Eventually she falls asleep in the chair next to me. I would stay here and sleep next to her, but there’s a bed inside. I put a blanket over her, smoke a final cigarette, and go to sleep in an actual bed.