Journal excerpts from a man trapped in Art Land (see previous post for details)

Day 32,

Haven't eaten for days. The strange duck still appears at regular intervals, still only quacking in iambic pentameter. Has so far been immune to clubbing. In order to evade it, I attempted to hide in a large patch of tall grass. After wandering aimless for some time - the improvised club my only possession - I came upon a clearing near the centre. The first thing I noticed was, facing me, a large kangaroo. Picture attached.


I took a step forward and it immediately jumped back an equal distance. I noticed it was clenching its pouch, which contained an egg likely filled with some tasty goo. We stared at each other a few moments, until I finally I asked the question.

"What are you?"

"A Kangaroo," it replied.

Unimpressed, I pointed to the egg.

"And what is that?"

"Art," it said.

I glared at the kangaroo as if to say I didn't care much for it's bullshit. Unfortunately, being a kangaroo, it must have misinterpreted my body language and assumed I gave enough of a shit to hear its story. Here is what it said:

"I have spent every moment of every hour of every day defending this egg without rest or reserve. For millennia countless have chased me for it, and everytime I have jumped, and I have jumped so that I am always out of reach. The idle chase me for a few days, but the dedicated spend the better part of their lives. Everyday they spend in chase, they inevitably become stronger and faster, but I have always kept myself one step ahead. Sooner or later, they all lose interest and return home. Meanwhile, I rest and wait for the weaker fresh travellers to resume where their predecessors have left off."

I stared at the kangaroo for some time, then nodded in respect. It returned the gesture, almost surprised by my peaceful attitude, and turned to leave.

In that moment of misplaced trust I clubbed the kangaroo fifteen times in the back of the head.


The meat alone should last me a few weeks, but the bounty of the egg excited me more. I clubbed it a few times and it shattered to pieces. Luckily those sharp fragments will be effective in slicing the meat of its protector into tasty, succulent steaks, because the only thing inside was a useless hand held mirror.


Just my luck.

Day 33,

Initially jabbing egg fragments into the duck seemed to be a success, but it returned hours later quacking in trochaic tetrameter.