FOR A GREATER YOU QUOTE OF THE MONTH
“DON’T HOPE FOR A MIRACLE. MAKE ONE!” HEALTH & STUFF
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HAITI’S HIDDEN TREASURES PART2 BOOK OF THE MONTH
INFINITE POSSIBILITIES issue 1
Published by ROYALIXONE
Happy Independence Day to Haiti January 1, 2010
WHA T E VE R Y O U W A N T There is no conspiracy against you to keep you down. As a matter of fact, noone can stop you. Wealth, education, opportunity is not monopolized. Your dream is not far away. The time to be happy with who you are is NOW. The time to start LIVING your DREAM is NOW. You are not missing anything. You have all you need. Trees grow naturally, you succeed naturally, that’s a fact. You can only fail if you THINK you are going to.
Have you ever did something easily that other people are having a hard time doing? How did you feel just before you start? I bet you were saying to yourself: That’s easy, I am the best at this. I don’t have to worry, it’s fun. Well, think like that about everything, and see what happen. GRYO MAGAZINE
From the Editors
e are like hustling bees. Imagine this… Among our many activities, we can count Banquet Server, Real Estate Agent, Graphic Designer, Store Manager, Amway Business Owner, Online Retailer and – at least until last February —US Marine. Yup! You are absolutely right… We are crazy. As a couple living in New York City, we had many talks about how to get our minds together, stop running around and start living our dreams which are pretty wild. Among those dreams, lays the desire to share with others everything great that we discover, everything that allows us to grow. We also wanted to place all our “beloved” activities (and our butts) in one place. So ... Gryo Magazine is born.
Gryo, comes from the phrase –For A Greater You—which is also our slogan. We are all learning as we live, falling and getting back up, crying and laughing right back, constantly reaching for higher grounds. The magazine does not have any religious, racial or political orientation. We will stay above all negativity and only bring you what’s useful for your goals in life. We have nothing to teach you; we can only remind you of what’s already within you. This is your publication and you may use it to find the best that life has to offer and help others do the same.
Michelangelo saw a statue in every block of stone...
Gryo Magazine is totally digital and will come out monthly. You will be able to read it online and share it with anyone you want.
We believe there is a great human being in everyone ... no matter what
in this issue
19 16 30 66
CREDIT & THANKS
AROUND THE WEB
IPHONES TO GET CREDIT CARD READER?
Christina Guérin Colin Wright Smoye Noisy Lou Bousseau
Thank You to
HEALTH & STUFF
BOOK OF THE MONTH
We encourage everyone to send us stories and all positive materials to be published here in Gryo Magazine. Do not hesitate to send us your opinions and suggestions about the magazine to help us get better.
HAITI’S HIDDEN TREASURES PART2 DO NOT BRUSH YOUR TEETH UPON WAKING UP... INFINITE POSSIBILITIES by Mike Dooley
Gryo Magazine is an online publication coming out monthly to bring you advice and recommendations that could help make life better. We get our sources from friends, contributors, thinkers, other publications or the internet. This is our first “baby step” issue and we plan on growing. We encourage everyone that has something positive to say, to send it to us and your material will be published if it can be used to better someone’s life. We also encourage authors, creators, businesses and entrepreneurs who are providing great life-changing products and services to advertise with us. Please, send suggestions, complaints, ideas, critics, anything you’d like to say to GryoMagazine@Gmail.com JAN2010 GRYO MAGAZINE JANUARY 2010
Nadege Fleurimond Patrick Dorsainvil Cristina & Juan Solano Thelma from NuLife
Jeff T. Kane Patrick Green Roosevelt Francois
This publication is copyrighted and should not be commercially printed without prior consent from the editors. Copyright 2010 GRYO Magazine
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How would you treat your car if you knew youâ€™d only have one for the rest of your life? What fuel, oil, coolant, filter would you put in it? TREAT YOUR BODY WELL GRYO MAGAZINE
in case you care 12
hile I was driving down the road today, I glanced up a billboard... One of those inescapable movie annoucements that always do their best to preentertain us during boring commutes. The slogan of the movie was:
“Don’t Hope for a Miracle. Make One.”
After reading this, I don’t remember the next five minutes of driving. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t crash ... I was driving safely... [as we all do during our daydreaming instants]. The truth is, so many correlated life matters poped up in my mind. I couldn’t help but to chuckle. Five minutes later, a stupid f... Ahem! I mean ... a fellow driver cut me off from nowhere, barely missing his exit. These big yellow drums almost fulfilled their duty once again. Anyway, that movie slogan got me thinking and seeing much more than seven words. It confirmed that all those things I wanted to happen in my life, I should make them happen.
Whatever your current location or situation, you must relax and enjoy the journey. There might be bumps and cracks, turns, delays or detours; you might even get lost and had to make u-turns ... your destination does not change. GRYO MAGAZINE
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independent lenses I
t was months in the making, with the producer tackling and overcoming various issues to come up with a modern-day visual encyclopedia on Haiti, which will make all Haitians proud and show to the world all the rich historical facts, culture and sites that Haiti has to offer. Today, Haitian filmmaker and documentarist Patrick Dorsainvil, the creative force behind the one-hour documentary of Haiti’s Hidden Treasures releases the long awaited sequel to Haiti’s Hidden Treasures I. After 5 Grande-Premieres of this documentary in New York and Boston, the audience had shared with the director and producer Patrick Dorsainvil many advice and feedbacks which encouraged him to refine Haiti’s Hidden treasures II, removing and adding many footage including a 13minute slideshow displaying beautiful scenes of profiling places shot over a 8-year period. In addition, people will enjoy Haiti’s national Anthem and best of all Patrick Dorsainvil’s commentary on his experience
and adventure in shooting the astonishing sceneries of Haiti’s country sides such as Arcahaie, Cote-des-Arcadins, Saint-Marc, Petite-Rivière-de-l’Artibonite, Gonaives, Limbé, Cap-Haitien and Labadie in the North, Port-de-Paix, Fort-Liberté, Hinche, Saut-d’Eau, Léogane, Jacmel, Petit-Goâve, Miragoane, Saint-Louis-du-Sud, Cavaillon, Les Cayes, Ile-à-Vache, Jérémie, La Visite National Park and so on... thus sharing with the world a new image of Haiti. The very nice touch added to the 4-sided cover as well as the DVD features of Haiti’s Hidden Treasures II talks for themselves and truly promotes Haiti’s rich culture and fascinating history.
Haiti’s Hidden Treasures II is
so well presented that it fills you up with a sense of pride for Haiti. It is loaded with very good audio-visual information that many people would love to share with their friends and families and show to the world the Haiti that they know exists but has never seen on TV. Haiti’s hidden Treasures II is full of splendors and a treasure chest, which invites all Haitians, Haitian-Americans and friends of Haiti to re-discover a land where everything is vivid, dynamic, creative and unique… Patrick Dorsainvil hopes that everybody will treasure this documentary, which is truly a precious gem that should be shared with the world at large. Every family, school, college and university should have a copy in their library. He strongly encourages you to offer this documentary as a gift to your loved ones who will consider it as a treasure of a lifetime... Thank You, Patrick Dorsainvil
www.haitiantreasures.com GRYO MAGAZINE
on’t forget to BE GRATEFUL for what you have in your life. That’s the only way you can get more. If you THINK you lack of anything and FEEL miserable about it, you will lose what you already have. When you feel depressed, listen to your favorite music ... think of the 1000’s reasons to be happy ... Have a Blast! The Sower
around the w Carpe Diem? Maybe Tomorrow Have Fun Now!
By John Tierney Published: December 28, 2009
For once, social scientists have discovered a flaw in the human psyche that will not be tedious to correct. You may not even need a support group. You could try on your own by starting with this simple New Year’s resolution: Have fun ... now! Then you just need the strength to cash in your gift certificates, drink that special bottle of wine, redeem your frequent flier miles and take that vacation you always promised yourself. If your resolve weakens, do not succumb to guilt or shame. Acknowledge what you are: a recovering procrastinator of pleasure. ... Read the story on NYTimes.com
web iPhone to get Credit Card reader add-on Emulate Apple store salespeople By Stuart Miles Published: 30 December 2009
iPhone users will soon be able to join Apple in turning their phone into a credit card reader thanks to a new gadget about to be launched by Mophie. The Credit Card Reader will be a combination of a dedicated hardware device that bolts on to your iPhone or iPod touch, and third party app that will allow small businesses the ability to take credit card payments on the go. The move from mophie, who has so far focused on battery packs to extend the life of the iPhone, pits the company up against newly created company Square, created by Twitter founder Jack Dorsey, which also allows iPhone users to take payments on the go. ... Source: www.pocket-lint.com GRYO MAGAZINE
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HAITIANS ARE GOOD PEOPLE by Lou Bousseau
deeply feel, from the bottom of my heart that this statement is unequivocal. Come on! I was born and raised in Haiti and most of my experiences there can only testify of that fact: we “Haitians are good people”. I have asked some of my Haitian friends to make a follow up to this statement, as to tell me why they think we are good? I was not surprise by the answers let’s go over some of them. One thing that Haitians have been known for is their hospitality. I can’t seem to find any country that is more open to strangers than our own. Anyone is welcome to our house and when they come, they only find kindness and opportunity. Our country has always been open to
Find Lou on Facebook neighbors and travelers even early on. In Eighteen Sixteen as a young nation, we open our door to Simon Bolivar and help him in his quest for liberty. We did the same thing over and over and most of the time we watched helplessly as our kindness was being used against us. We watched our riches disappear and despite all the suffering we haven’t changed a bit. Our arms are still open. You know why? Because we are resilient, like we did in 1804, we have sworn not to give up the fight. We have, for a long time, been flirting on the edges of the abyss. We have been time and time again on the losing side of the game; we manage to stick around, fighting adversaries that seems restless and infinite. Well, we are still fighting! We face hardship everyday
and still find ways to “Bat Dlo Pou Fè Bè” like one friend puts it. Our resilience comes with the fact that we are compassionate people with an incredible capacity to forgive and to forget. We seem at time amnesic, too often willing to embrace our own executioners and allow ourselves to be betrayed, exploited again. We do it with an open heart though! We deeply believe that things will get better. Our resilience make it seems like we give up some time, but we are too hopeful to do so. We still hope that tomorrow will be a better day “Depi Gen Lavi, Gen Lespwa” we cannot give up…
with passion. Further proof of our openness, no party is more multicultural than a Haitian party; we dance to all kind of sounds and rhythms. We Haitians are smart, too smart sometimes and we know that! I believe that the strongest and the smartest of us made it to the colonies during the cruel years of slave’s trade. We are the offspring of those who survived the “passage” we are as strong as the first “Maron”, as smart and “Tactful” as Toussaint Louverture, as Strategic as Jean Jacques Dessalines, as brave as Capois La mort…
“I have been around minorities from diverse origins and none of them are that open, none of them play Charles Aznavour, Elvis Crespo, Buju Banton, 50 cent and T-vice the same night and enjoy every bit of it.”
We won’t give up because we are dedicated to our kids to our families. Does anybody know the meaning of “Family” more than Haitians? I don’t think so! We treat our kids like they’ll never grow up, we take care of our parents, grandparents, cousins and so on… we don’t know where the family starts or ends. We are just there for our own at all time, especially when it matters the most: from the arrival of a new born to the death of a love one and all the event in between. No one do weddings like us and no one, for sure, do funerals like we do. We express and share our feelings to one and other
When I started to write this post my goal was to bring to your attention the essence of what’s good in us Haitian; I quickly realize that such task was impossible. Who am I to claim such knowledge? As much as I am Haitian (and I am telling you: I am from head to toe!) I can’t talk for all of you my brothers and sisters. These lines will instead serve as an invitation to all of you, a template and a guide so you can with me write this Article, title: HAITIANS ARE GOOD PEOPLE! Ready, set, Action… *** Lose everything but Love*** GRYO MAGAZINE
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opinionate REFLEXIONS SUR UN PERIL CULTUREL
[Read in English]
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par Smoye Noisy
un moment où les préoccupations se manifestent de plus en plus pour l`avenir d`Haïti, où tous les secteurs cherchent à trouver et a mettre en application les stratégies qui permettront de remettre le pays sur les rails, nous nous donnons humblement la permission d’opiner et de faire valoir notre point de vue à partir des expériences que nos vingt ans dans le domaine de la communication et du cinéma nous ont permis d`acquérir pour éclaircir un peu l’horizon. Nous ne sortirons pas du domaine culturel qui est un secteur que nous ne prétendrons pas connaitre à fond mais qui nous est quand même familier pour argumenter notre prise de position.
Depuis tantôt 10 ans, des voix s’élèvent de toutes parts pour poser des problèmes du secteur: pas de support GRYO MAGAZINE
pour la production, la promotion et la distribution, pas d’encouragements, pas de protection, et on connait toute la suite des problèmes du cinéma haïtien. De diverses manières, des initiatives ont été prises soit pour empêcher la vente illégales de DVD soit pour trouver des formules d`exploitations, soit pour améliorer la qualité de la production, mais les résultats jusqu’ici n’ont jamais été au rendez vous et on ne saurait dire aujourd`hui qu`en matière de rentabilité il se porte mieux qu’il y a 20 ans a l`époque ou nos pionniers, Raynald Delerme, Jean Gardy Bien Aime et consorts, lançaient la formule de la vidéo projection pour contourner les contraintes et les exigences des films sur pellicules trop onéreux. Le problème du cinéma Haïtien, selon moi, n’est pas différent de tous les autres
problèmes qui nous accablent et que le bon sens appelle a résoudre, sauf qu`a mon humble jugement il nous manque le désir de défendre la vérité et la rationalité qui nous permettraient de nous mettre d`accord sur les choix fonctionnels. Le cinéma haïtien, pour moi, n`a pas de problème, sinon que ceux qui affectent et entravent le fonctionnement de toute la société haïtienne en général: l`insouciance, l`indifférence, la négligence, le manque de bon sens qui nous font passer a cote de toutes les opportunités, et qui nous empêchent d`exploiter nos ressources. Ce ne sont pas les marches qui manquent, c e n’est pas la clientèle qui fait défaut, ce n’est pas la production qui manque, ce ne sont pas les acteurs, ce ne sont pas les scenarios qui manquent, ni la volonté et la bonne foi. On s’acharne par exemple à vouloir résoudre les problèmes du cinéma au lieu de résoudre les déboires et les péripéties des producteurs, des acteurs qui réalisent les films, tout comme on se bat a résoudre les menaces du déboisement au lieu de s’impliquer a résoudre les problèmes humains qui engendrent la coupe inconsidérée des arbres. Je le dis souvent et je le répéterai encore ici, quand on pose mal le problème on trouve mal la solution. Ce ne sont pas des festivals de films qui sauveront le cinéma haïtien ce ne sont pas des actions éparses pour empêcher le piratage des films qui sauveront le cinéma haïtien, ce ne sont pas des cours de mise a niveau quand ceux qui produisent ne
sont pas récompenses pour leur effort qui le sauveront , mais c`est une société soucieuse, qui comprend la nécessité de s`impliquer pour défendre les intérêts humains qui résoudra les problèmes auxquels nous faisons face aujourd`hui et notre cinéma avec. Une société qui
établit des principes de respect de l’autre et de ses biens, qui pose les règles du jeu et qui en impose l’application, une société qui comprend que l’être humain doit être au centre des débats et qu’il doit être la première des préoccupations si nous voulons vraiment empêcher les dérives.
Aujourd’hui encore je constate avec amertume que dans nos tiroirs il y a toujours eu autant de problèmes que de solutions mais que nous sommes plus enclins a sortir les problèmes que les solutions, si vous ne me croyez pas allez encore revoir “Gouverneur de la Rosée” de Jacques Roumain et demandez vous pourquoi l`eau de la source découverte par Manuel n`est jamais arrivée au village? Smoye NOISY Coordonnateur Principal de Caribbean GROUP
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opinionate REFLEXIONS ON A CULTURE IN PERIL
[Lire en Français]
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by Smoye Noisy
t a time when concerns arise more and more about the future of Haiti, and all sectors seek to find and implement strategies that will put the country back on track, we humbly allow ourselves to opinionate and express our point of view from what we acquired during our twenty years of experience in the field of communications and film to shine some light on the horizon. We will not leave the cultural field which is an area we don’t pretend to know the bottom but that we are still familiar with to argue our position. For 10 years now, voices have gone up everywhere raising the sector’s problems:
no support for production, promotion or distribution, no encouragement, no protection, and we know the whole series of problems that plague the Haitian cinema. In many ways, initiatives have been taken either to prevent the sale of illegal DVDs or to find formulas to improve the business or the production quality, but until now, the results have not measured up to the challenges. So today, we cannot say that profitability is better than 20 years ago when pioneers like Raynald Delerme, Jean Gardy Bien-Aimé and others, launched video projection to circumvent constraints and requirements of film production that was too expensive. The problem of the Haitian cinema,
in my opinion, is no different than any other problems that beset us and that our common sense pushes us to seek solutions to; except that, in my humble opinion, we lack the desire to defend the truth and rationality that we would allow us to agree on practical choices. I think that the Haitian cinema has no other problems except those who affect and hinder the functioning of the entire Haitian society in general: carelessness, indifference, neglect, lack of common sense that makes us miss many opportunities, and keeps us from using our resources. It’s not the steps that are missing, nor the clientele, or the production. We do not lack actors, scenarios, or willingness and good faith. We scramble, for example, to attempt to solve the problems of cinema instead of solving the woes and tribulations of producers, actors and directors, just like we fight the threats of deforestation rather than applying ourselves to solve the human problems that cause the indiscriminate cutting of trees. I often say and I repeat it again here, “when we raise the problems wrong, we find wrong solutions.” It’s not the film festivals that will save the cinema in Haiti, nor scattered actions to prevent the piracy of movies, nor countless seminars while those who produce are not rewarded for their efforts, but a caring society, which understands the need to involve itself to defend human interests and solve the problems we face everywhere today including in our cinema. A society that
establishes principles of respect for others and their property, which sets the rules and enforces their application, a society that understands that human beings must be in the center of all social debates and that they must be the first concern if we really want to prevent abuses. Today, I also noted with sadness that in our drawers there always been as many problems as solutions, but we are more likely to pull out the problems than the solutions. If you do not believe me, go see again “Gouverneur de la Rosée” by Jacques Roumain and ask yourself why the water from the spring discovered by Manuel never reached the village? Smoye NOISY Main Coordinator of Caribbean GROUP
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h & stuff GRYO MAGAZINE
DO NOT brush your teeth when you wake up in the morning... Roosevelt Francois We have learned this ritual since
OK, the second is over.
childhood. You wake up and mom or
dad tells you to go get your fancy little
You brush your teeth so they can be
toothbrush and start scrubbing away
clean. Right? But clean from what
at your teeth. We have been doing it
actually? From some unknown stuff
since we could remember. Do you know
that grows while you sleep? From sleep
exactly why you are brushing your teeth
smell? The act of sleeping doesnâ€™t have
every morning? Before you get offended
a smell the last time I checked. Your
by the question and start saying that
teeth only get dirtied by what enters
I called you dumb, think about it for a
second. . .
developing from residues after a certain amount of time. So the best time to brush your teeth would be after eating. The two recommended times to brush would be after breakfast and before you go to sleep. By doing so, you will keep your mouth and teeth reasonably clean at all times. I would not go to extremes and advise brushing after each meal, although that would be ideal. If you only brush
Whitens teeth Remove plaque Fights cavities Safely cleans Freshen breath Promotes remineralization
upon arising and go get breakfast and other daily meals, you will then spend the rest of the day with food residues stuck in your teeth and gums. Using Tic-Tacs and breath freshener all day is not healthy. Some of us even go to bed at night right after the last meal without brushing again. Other susbstances like tobacco and caffeine also have their toll of your mouth and teethâ€™s health and appearance so use them wisely. Upon waking up, a simple splash or gurgle of warm water is enough. Once youâ€™ve downed your breakfast, brush your teeth and go about your daily
recommended if you had coffee. Just use those toothpicks or floss after meals and remember to brush before you go to bed.
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ories Panique de Consommatrice Christina GuĂŠrin My Red Self Jeff T. Kame The Abductors Patrick Green
by Patrick Green
INSIDE DR. DELGADO’S OFFICE - EVENING A man in his late ‘30s, early ‘40s (DR. HATCH) waits in the office, staring at the darkening sky outside. The sound of his watch ticking is pervasive. He stares at the watch, rubbing its crystal face nervously, then glances at the manila folder beside him. The door opens, and DR. DELGADO enters. She is a prim woman in her fifties, very business-like. Dr. Hatch stands and they shake hands. DR. HATCH: Good evening, Dr. Delgado. Thanks for seeing me. DELGADO: Yes, sorry for the delay. Administrative duties never end. She sits. DELGADO: You have a case you wanted to discuss? DR. HATCH: Yes. Hatch hands her the folder. Dr. Delgado thumbs through the papers. DELGADO: Brian Ripple. With us almost four months now? DR. HATCH: Yes. He was found wailing... on a busy intersection, trying to get himself run over. DELGADO: I see. And there’s a new development?
HATCH: Yes. He has always violently refused to be hypnotized. It’s a nightly struggle to get him sedated. I had no luck with group therapy, so I’ve spent several days trying to get through to him one on one. DELGADO: This says he suffers from paranoid delusions. Hatch throws her a doubtful look. HATCH: Right. DELGADO: You sound like you disagree with that assessment. HATCH: It’s not that so much...I had some luck with him earlier today. Now, my real concern ...we may need to contact the police. DELGADO: Regarding what? Hatch is pensive for a moment, then produces a mini-tape recorder from his coat pocket and places it on Delgado’s desk. HATCH: If you have a few minutes, I’d like you to listen to some of my session with Brian. DELGADO: I really have several matters to attend... HATCH: ...Forgive me doctor, but you should really listen to this right now. Delgado scans his earnest face. Hatch starts the tape. Hatch’s voice strains through the tiny GRYO MAGAZINE
Abductors speaker. HATCH: (over the speaker) Just take your time, and tell me the entire story. As I said, I won’t interrupt. There is a long pause, during which the strained and anguished breaths of BRIAN are heard. Finally... BRIAN: (over the speaker) This one changed everything, doctor. Everything. (pause) You see, me and my buddy Wendell, we had a little business enterprise we did together...
FLASHBACK: INSIDE BRIAN’S CAR - DAYTIME Brian, a scruffy and skinny thirty four year old, drives, grinning and looking over at WENDELL. Thirty six year old Wendell is better dressed, with a more intelligent demeanor. He waves a plastic baggie full of Polaroids, while dialing his cell phone. WENDELL: Hey, Mister “Smith”... Your pictures are ready... Yes sir... the usual payment arrangements will be fine... Good...We’ll be in touch. As Wendell hangs up.. WENDELL: Well, another day at the office. BRIAN: I wanna look at those pics again. WENDELL: Later. Nice job today. You’re getting good at this.
Abductors Brian lingers on a particular photo. BRIAN: Hey, its’ the easiest job I ever had. WENDELL: Good, ‘cause I’m back on the trail tonight. BRIAN: This soon? You sure that’s safe? WENDELL: I’m changing my M.O. This time I’ll hook up on a chatroom. That’s how it’s done these days, anyway. BRIAN: Man, that kid sure could cry, to be so little. Even out here in the middle of nowhere, I was sure somebody’d hear us. WENDELL: It’ll never happen, Brian. State forest property, and nobody even uses that road anymore. BRIAN: ‘Cept us. The car exits the forest road onto pavement.
INSIDE WENDELL’S HOUSE - NIGHTIME Wendell sits in front of a computer, typing quickly, smiling to himself. Shirtless and drinking a beer, Brian approaches and looks at the screen. BRIAN: How’s it going? Any nibbles? WENDELL: Looks like it. Get this: I went to a uh, science chatroom for kids in this area. I’m on with a little girl named Shelley. She says she’s nine. BRIAN: Nice. GRYO MAGAZINE
Abductors WENDELL: She thinks I’m a twelve-yearold girl named “Wendy”. Brian essays a moronic laugh. BRIAN: Hey! Cute! WENDELL: Next step:.. Wendell begins typing. WENDELL: I..am..having..a..party..for.. science..kids ..like..us. Wanna..come? On the screen, Shelley’s response pops up: “Yes!” WENDELL: We got her. (typing) It’s..this..Friday..after.. school. Can..you..meet..me.. and.. my..dad..at Flat..Ridge..Park? Onscreen: “Yes!” BRIAN: So easy? WENDELL: Now the tricky part (types) Will..your..parents..mind? Shelley replies: “They are busy. I usually stay at school but your parents can call them and have them pick me up. Is that okay?” WENDELL: So innocent. She’ll be a good one. (types) Sounds..good. See..you..Friday. Oh..What..do..you..look..like?
Shelley replies: I’ll wear my yellow jacket with frogs on it. I have brown hair and blue eyes. GRYO MAGAZINE
Abductors BRIAN: Oh man, I’ll bet she’s a hot little thing! WENDELL: Oh yeah. Now we email Mr. “Smith”. And our rates just went up. BRIAN: I can’t believe we’re getting paid for this. INSIDE THE CAR - DAYTIME Brian and Wendell are excited as they drive to the meeting with Shelley. BRIAN: I wanna take our time on this one. It just went too fast with that last one. WENDELL: You got it, buddy. All those twisted little things you like to do, just let your hair down. I got five packs of film. BRIAN: You know I wouldn’t mind keepin’ a couple of those shots myself. WENDELL: Bad idea. You get caught with kiddie porn, especially the stuff we do, and your ass is grass. Don’t worry. We can always get new ones. People are having kids every day.
AT THE PARK Nine-year-old Shelley sits alone on a bench, swinging her legs,
The more you hurry, the slower you go... The more you wait, the longer it takes... The more you worry, the less you dream... But the more you live, love, and laugh... the more you live, love, and laugh... GRYO MAGAZINE
43 The Sower JANUARY 2010
Abductors wearing her yellow rainslicker adorned with frogs. Brian’s non-descript sedan pulls up nearby. BRIAN: There she is. WENDELL: Perfect. Wendell dons a hat and sunglasses. WENDELL: Okay. Just wait here. Wendell gets out and walks toward the girl, smiling sweetly. Shelley looks up with bright blue eyes, and a trusting innocent smile. SHELLEY: Hi. WENDELL: Well, hi there! Shelley? SHELLEY: Yes sir. WENDELL: I’m Mr. Owens, Wendy’s father. SHELLEY: Where’s Wendy? WENDELL: She asked me to come and pick you up. She’s got a lot of little girls at her party, and she didn’t want to leave them. But it’s just a few minutes to our house. Shelley seems doubtful for the first time. SHELLEY: Are you sure? WENDELL: Why yes. There are lots of science projects she has to set up, and she’ll need your help she said, because you’re especially smart. Are you ready to go? Shelley hops up.
Abductors SHELLEY: Okay, I guess. Can I call my mom and dad when I get there? WENDELL: I insist you do. Shelley takes Wendell’s hand and walks with him back toward the car. Wendell sends Brian a sly smile. Wendell opens the back door, and lets Shelley get in, then takes the passenger seat. WENDELL: Shelley, this is Mr. Ripple. Brian shows concern at the use of his real name. Wendell shrugs and smiles. SHELLEY: Nice to meet you, Mr. Ripple. BRIAN: Nice to meet you, Shelley. You sure are a pretty little girl. SHELLEY: Thank you. You have a kid at the party? BRIAN: Yes, I do. You’ll meet him soon. Brian drives away, checking Shelley in the rear view. She is oblivious. Brian turns up the radio a bit, as he addresses Wendell in low tones. BRIAN: Look at those eyes. I’ve never seen such big blue eyes. WENDELL: Yeah. I’ll get a good shot of them right when she starts crying.
The car continues down the highway.
(LATER...) The car pulls off onto the dirt road, passing a sign that says “ACCESS ROAD 19, FLAT RIDGE FOREST” Shelley’s face begins to show concern. SHELLEY: I thought you said wasn’t far, Mr. Pitts? WENDELL: We’re close now, sugar. Just a few more miles. SHELLEY: Okay. Brian shows Wendell how his hand is shaking in anticipation. Wendell smiles, and reaches in the floorboard. He takes things out of a duffle bag: a roll of duct tape, a rope, a barbecue lighter, the Polaroid camera. He turns and points it toward Shelley. WENDELL: Smile Shelley. Shelley obeys, Wendell snaps the shot. He immediately pockets the photo. WENDELL: A nice “before” shot. SHELLEY: Before what? WENDELL: The party, sugar. SHELLEY: Oh.
Abductors Shelley begins to hum in an irritating pattern. BRIAN: Hey Shelley, can you stop that please? She continues, much quieter. Brian and Wendell exchange another ‘just wait’ look. Finally, Brian stops near the clearing. SHELLEY: Where are we? WENDELL: This is the place, Shelley. SHELLEY: Where’s your house? Wendell walks around and opens her door. Brian gathers the items in the front seat. WENDELL: Come on out Shelley. Brian comes around with the Polaroid. He looks at Wendell, who nods. Brian raises the camera. WENDELL: There’s no house. This party’s just gonna be the three of us. Right here in the woods. Brian snaps the shot of Shelley’s quizzical look. SHELLEY: Why just us? Where’s Wendy? Wendell shakes his head grimly, staring with authority. Shelley seems disappointed as she gets out. SHELLEY: Okay. Brian gives Shelley a hopeful look. BRIAN: Hey! Maybe she’s into it! GRYO MAGAZINE
Abductors WENDELL: We can’t have that. Smith wants to see her afraid and in pain. BRIAN: Whatever. Wendell takes Shelley by the arm and begins leading her to the tree, while Brian puts on a leather S & M mask. SHELLEY: You’re hurting my arm. WENDELL: Gonna hurt a lot more than that, Bitch. He shoves her and holds her against the tree, while Brian begins to wind the rope around her. Wendell takes the Polaroid and shoots another photo of her with his free hand. Shelley stares with furrowed brow at Brian’s mask. SHELLEY: I don’t want to play this game. WENDELL: Too bad. He looks at the picture and its still vague image. WENDELL: What the...? He reaches into his coat pocket and draws the Polaroids from earlier, confusion on his face. He turns the picture sideways, upside down. BRIAN: What is it, Wendell? A low humming is heard. Both men look up in time to be blasted in the eyes and face with a powerful bright light. WENDELL: What the hell is that?
TO BE CONTINUED...
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Panique de Consommatrice by Christina Guérin Illustration by Juan Manuel Gordillo
rpentant les rues de PétionVille, en ce beau samedi matin, je me cherche un pantalon noir. Debout en plein milieu d’un (troisième) magasin, pensive, et démotivée, je suis déçue de ce que j’ai trouvé jusqu’à présent. Pas de pantalon noir dans les stocks. Je laisse ce lieu peu propice à la rêverie, grimpe distraitement dans ma voiture et démarre tout en jetant un regard coupable, à la petite boîte installée depuis deux secondes sur le siège à côté de moi : une ravissante petite broche en cristal rose, achetée je ne sais moi-même pourquoi, dans ce dernier magasin. Chassant l’embryon de remords qui point à l’horizon, et forte de la bonne résolution de ne plus recommencer, je me dirige donc vers l’autre bout de Pétion-Ville, à la recherche d’un magasin où je trouverais peut-être mon pantalon noir.
Mais, ne me lâchant pas une seconde, mon achat, installé sur le siège du passager me chatouille la conscience en me narguant de son emballage rutilant. GRYO MAGAZINE
L’inévitable est entrain d’arriver, et le tableau est familier : Je me mets à stresser… « Je dépense trop…» me dis-je dans un souffle. En effet, j’arrive à peine à joindre les deux bouts avec les dépenses essentielles : - Les vêtements et chaussures, (Un minimum) - La nourriture (Il faut manger trois fois par jour, tiens c’est beaucoup ça !) - Le loyer. (en US$ - le propriétaire n’a rien voulu entendre)
- Les bons et l’entretien de la voiture avec aussi la gazoline (On ne va pas aller à pieds quand même) - Le câble pour la télé (Il faut savoir ce qui se passe dans le monde) - Les bons pour l’inverter + batteries. (Indispensables l’inverter pour allumer les ventilateurs la nuit ) - Le gasoil pour la génératrice (Il faut charger l’inverter – Je sais , nous faisons le travail de l’EDH) - L’eau pour me baigner (à acheter par camion)
- Les cartes pour mon téléphone cellulaire (Parce que : Je parle !) - L’abonnement mensuel pour mon internet high speed (c’est pour travailler) - Les cadeaux pour les anniversaires (Je suis une bonne copine, je suis née comme ça) - Les films à mon club vidéo (ma seule détente, je ne bois pas, je ne fume pas…) D’accord j’arrête ! Mais je ne vais pas mieux, car dans ma liste je n’ai pas mentionné : les consultations médicales et les prescriptions qui viennent avec, le sport, les aumônes, les taxes, le personnel de maison, les réparations et entretiens divers, les assurances, les dépenses de sécurité…la famille à charge. Dans cette liste, je n’ai pas compté non plus les menues dépenses cachées sous le vocable : « carte de crédit ». Je veux parler des voyages, du salon de beauté du samedi, des journées à la mer, des soirées au restaurant, des ravissantes petites broches auxquelles il est impossible de résister, de la pizza- intempestive-du-lundi-soir... Ma carte de crédit… A ces mots, je sens à nouveau mon souffle qui s’en va …mon rythme cardiaque s’accélère… Ô carte de crédit, Béni et maudit soit le jour où je te connus Ô objet dangereux et tentateur, Quand je t’obtenus, je fus pris de vertige… Et ce vertige ne me quitta plus. Ô Maître carte qui m’accompagne partout Ô incessant tourbillon du j’aime donc j’achète, Du « achte jodi peye demen » du « klatapklatap siyatu »…
Panique de Consommatrice Tentation de plastic sournoisement installée dans mon porte-feuille Quand donc apprendrai-je à t’utiliser intelligemment ? En effet, n’était-ce ma carte de crédit, me dis-je (préférant oublier ma dernière et très pertinente question), je n’aurais pas pu me payer ma petite broche, et maintenant je n’en serais pas à mon stressant questionnement. Ah ! Que je blâme cette société de consommation qui nous engloutis et nous aveugle, que je blâme la faiblesse humaine….savamment exploitée par le marketing, cette invention diabolique du capitalisme ! Seul les plus futés savent qu’ils travaillent pour réinvestir. Les moins futés, les pauvres de nous, menés par nos pulsions irraisonnables et irraisonnées et armés de nos divers crédits, nous vivons pour la plupart au dessus de nos moyens, payant des intérêts, accumulant de mois en mois, le stress du comment « découvrir St Pierre, pour couvrir St Paul ». Et si je perdais tout, comme ces millions d’Américains qui se sont trouvés du jour au lendemain à la rue ? Et si demain je n’avais plus d’emploi ? Cet emploi qui depuis longtemps a pour seule raison d’être : Payer les divers crédits accumulés. La solution est-elle de vivre dans le dénuement ? D’être plus modeste dans mes besoins ?
Est-elle de travailler plus dur ? D’apprendre à résister à la tentation ? Est-elle de m’attaquer au « système » ? De faire la révolution ? De faire un hold-up à ma banque ? De me trouver un riche-et-vieux-mari–sansenfants–et-qui-va-crever -bientôt ? De me trouver un petit poteau à Pétion-Ville ? (pourvuqu’il en reste un de libre) Peut-être devrais-je licencier l’agent de sécurité qui vient de m’ouvrir la barrière et qui passe le plus clair de son temps à dormir… ce serait toujours ça d’économisé… Tiens, mais c’est à un quatrième magasin que je me rendais ce matin ! La tête ailleurs… j’ai pris de préférence le chemin conduisant à ma maison, mon toit, mon modeste abri dont l’entretien me coûte si cher. Tant-pis, je n’ai pas besoin de pantalon noir…je garderai dans ma poche ce montant supplémentaire qui s’apprêtait à s’ajouter à la liste de mes dépenses inutiles. Je viens malgré moi de réaliser ma première victoire. Mais elle n’a pas la douce saveur que j’espérais, elle a bizarrement le goût d’un futur sombre… Ma première victoire : demain je porterai mon pantalon gris. Publié par Christina Guérin Illustration de Juan Manuel Gordillo
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RED Self by Jeff T. Kane
y first period bleeds. This isn’t the first time my privates bled. The first time, Johnny Wantagh pushed me into the boy’s bathroom after fifth period and stuck his fist in me. Johnny said if I told anybody, they’d never believe me and say I was racist. Johnny’s Indian. GRYO MAGAZINE
Not like Gandhi.
Johnny’s the shitty, alcoholic kind that
wears feathers in their hair. Johnny’s big and plays football. That’s why nobody hates him for being Indian. When Johnny stuck his fist in me, the blood wasn’t so thick as it was today. It wasn’t so dark either. I take off my underpants and they are dry. The period plops to the carpet in a puddle and doesn’t soak into the wool. I press it with my finger and don’t get any blood on me. The puddle feels tough and soft like a warm rubber ice pack. I grab the puddle. It rolls into the fold of my arm. Two small, clear bubbles form in the top of the puddle and point at me. “You see me?” I say. The puddle rumbles like a belly. Tiny bubbles shoot through it. The puddle boils. I can understand the bubbles even though there’s no sounds or words. It’s like the way you know what teddy bears are saying. It tells me she’s my red self. She wants to be my friend. I put my red self inside my Bratz lunchbox. The same one Caroline McCoy says I’m a baby for carrying. Caroline McCoy’s mommy gives her money to buy lunch out at the deli across the street. I don’t open the lunchbox until lunchtime. I sit in the back of the cafeteria and look at my red self. She tells me she likes school. She liked social studies when Mr. Bersin told us about a monkey trial.
These Christians tried to hang this guy for being a monkey. Somehow, Spencer Tracey used telescopes to kill them instead. At least that’s what my red self got out of it. I don’t know. I never pay attention in social studies. GRYO MAGAZINE
MYREDSELF “How come you’re so different from other periods?” I ask her. “What’s the difference?” she says, “I won’t ever get sucked up inside a Maxi-pad.” “Sue, hey Sue.” Caroline McCoy talks just like a girl from Texas. Her hair is real long, wavy, and auburn. She looks like Demi Moore if she only ever ate Krispy Kreme. She’s wears a yellow poodle skirt. I close the lunchbox fast because Caroline can never see my red self. She’s with Johnny Wantagh. Johnny’s face makes me think of that picture on the Cleveland Indians hat. The sneering Indian. He’s Caroline McCoy’s boyfriend but he never put his hand inside her pussy. He probably never touched her pussy. Caroline McCoy would never let anybody touch her pussy. She probably has something wrong with it. “Hey Sue?” says Caroline, “Does your daddy spit cum on you?” Caroline has a shiny mayonnaise packet in her hand. I can smell Johnny Wantagh and he smells like feathers, and Indian B.O. Caroline opens up the mayonnaise packet and squeezes out white egg cream all over her lips. I try to push her away but she’s so big and Texas. She pulls me up by the hair, kisses me wet all over my face and lips, and presses her slug tongue through my lips. I taste mayonnaise. “I oughta come kiss you everyday,” Caroline says and the mayonnaise shining all over her face does look just like cum. I saw it the time Johnny Wantagh took me in the bathroom and sprayed it in my mouth. I tasted it. It tastes the way bleach smells. Not as bad as mayonnaise. “Eww,” I say. Caroline wipes her face off with napkins and throws them all over me. GRYO MAGAZINE
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“Take care,” says Johnny Wantagh in his drunky, Indian voice. I open the lunchbox to look at my red self and mayonnaise drips onto her. She tells me it’s gross. She hates school. She gave it a chance but she hates it. She tells me if she had shoulders to shrug, she would. She doesn’t know what to do. I don’t know where my red self found the tiny cowboy hat and brown wig but I don’t care. She rolls on my desk with the hat on over the wig and says, “Ah’m Caroline McCoy. Ah’m a big ole’ Texan. Hardy har. Give me a cowpoke and some steers fer dinner. Ah’ma use mah lasso ta fix yall.” My red self makes me laugh so much I don’t feel sad about Caroline’s cum kiss. After that, me and my red self watch this movie called Benny & Joon. It’s about this girl, Joon, who’s crazy and her older brother, Benny, takes care of her. There’s this real good song at the beginning of the movie and Johnny Depp plays this weird guy who sticks forks into rolls and makes them dance. Johnny Depp falls in love with Joon and makes it so she won’t be crazy anymore. My red self likes the movie and says it’s sweet the way Joon’s brother takes care of her. She says she’ll take care of me like that.
MYREDSELF In my closet, I have this heart shaped pillow that my dad bought at the flea market. It’s topaz and says 90210 on it in pink letters that are half stained with yellow. In the middle of the pillow is a picture of Dylan McKay circled with bubbly hearts. I never liked to sleep on the pillow because the yellow stains freak me out but I think since my red self is blood she won’t mind. “This is a present,” I put the pillow down on the bed next to her. My red self rolls onto the pillow and yawns. She stretches her bubbles and looks at me. She tells me it’s the best bed she ever had. No offense to my privates.
Bloody Hand by Mohzart. http://mohzart.deviantart.com/ GRYO MAGAZINE
In the morning
she’s gone.The heart shaped pillow is empty
and cold. I look under the bed but it’s dark and I’m late. My mom says the school bus is here. I get to school and my stomach hurts from worrying about my red self. In social studies I miss her the most. “What’s the difference between you and me?” says Johnny Wantagh. He’s doing a report about being Indian American but he has no feathers, no arrows, and no cheetah skins. Johnny tells this real boring story about Indians called “Ghost Runners” who thought they were bulletproof ghosts and had special powers and how they all got shot but it was noble. I raise my hand, tell Mr. Bersin I have to pee real bad, and go to the girl’s bathroom. I look around and think I’m alone but when I go to open a stall there’s Caroline McCoy floating around in a cloud of diarrhea stink like some kind of Indian Ghostrunner. “I’m so sure,” says Caroline as she stands up to wipe herself. I close the stall and run but Caroline grabs me with her shitty hand. “Ever play vacuum cleaner?” says Caroline. She snaps the bolt lock shut before I have a chance to leave. She takes her Dairy Queen t-shirt off and then her pants and panties. “Strip down,” she tells me. She takes her shoes off and throws them at me and they smell like sweaty cat piss. “I don’t want to,” I say. Caroline makes a big Texas fist and her face gets all red. I pull my shirt off, then the rest. “I can see why Johnny fucks with yall,” her lips greasy. “Lie down Sue.” I get on the bathroom floor.
MYREDSELF It feels cold and sticky on my back. Caroline stands over me and squats. Her hair hangs around her face, her fat wrinkly belly sags, and there are black hairs all over it. “I have to clean you,” says Caroline. She makes her lips buzz like a vacuum motor and presses them against my forehead. Caroline slowly works her way down with her buzzing lips leaving a trail of spittle down my body. I get scared as she passes over my belly but then she stops and looks up at me. “Sorry,” she says, “I gotta work up some more spit to get that pussy clean.” She squashes her lips around, makes farty sounds in her mouth. Till her spittle foam makes a white beard around her lips. I try not to cry, but when Caroline’s wet mouth nuzzles my privates I feel my eyes water up. “Ever play roulette?” says the best voice I ever heard. “Yeah?” I ask while laughing and sniffling. “Always bet on red.” Caroline stops licking my pussy and starts screaming. I feel so happy now. Caroline hops around the bathroom like a Navajo war dancer and claws at her vagina. My red self pries Caroline’s pussy lips apart and forces her way into the tight hole. Caroline squirms and clutches at my red self but she disappears inside her. Caroline falls right over on the floor and curls into a ball. She isn’t dead. She looks up at me. She laughs out loud. It’s the first time I’ve seen her smile at me. And the whites of her eyes are red.
“Imagine it,” acid. You’d never come down.”
says Johnny as we slip back into class, “Like a million hits of
MYREDSELF I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about and I can’t believes his report took the whole period. Caroline asks me for a pencil. “It’s broken,” I say and wonder if my red self knows how to use a sharpener. Johnny Wantagh winks at Caroline as she walks up to the front of the class. It’s gross when he does that. Some kids snicker when Caroline puts her hand on Johnny’s crotch but it’s just to push him out of the way of the sharpener. Caroline grinds the pencil down and pulls it out with a fresh point. “What’s with your eyes babe?” says Johnny. He winks again. Caroline slams the pencil point through his eyelid. Black crap sprays all over her. Then she breaks the pencil in half and leaves a piece sticking out of Johnny’s socket. It’s annoying how Johnny Wantagh always breaks even. Even though he just lost an eye, he’ll probably end up learning something from this, like some kind of after school special. I take my 90210 pillow and leave it on the windowsill. The police took Caroline away and I don’t know what happened to my red self.
I try not to be scared
since last time she disappeared she came back but what if it’s all over now? What if she needs to help some other girl? I switch the TV on and Suddenly Susan is there. Then my red self is there. She rolls over the top of the TV. She tells me she was napping. She tells me Caroline didn’t get to go to jail since she died of toxic shock syndrome. That’s something you get from bad tampons. I ask her why she napped first and she tells me she had to ooze for
MYREDSELF miles to get here from the morgue. She says it’s sad not being a person now, after she got used to it and it was so much fun. She’s also sad about how Johnny didn’t die. “You need to go inside somebody else,” I tell her, “You need to make me another friend. Somebody pretty.” She sits on my pillow and her eye bubbles pop and bubble up again. She stares at the TV. Susan pulls sheer stockings on over her legs. My red self bubbles and bubbles. She wants to go to Hollywood, she tells me. She wants to be Brooke Shields.
Illustration: Padded Room by Easthighqt
End GRYO MAGAZINE
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Dear Readers and Contributors,
Thanks to you, the first issue of Gryo Magazine came out as planned and will probably help someone out there on Lifeâ€™s journey...
In a pool game, the slightest variation in angle can change the entire path of the balls. Life is no different.
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THANK YOU and Happy New Year!
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