Saturday, 13 October 2007

The Cat Boat


There are some cats on a boat. The boat is in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. There are some cats on it. The cats are in charge of the boat. There are one hundred and fourteen cats on the boat. The cats have given the boat a name. They have called the boat ‘The Cat Boat’. The boat is like a pirate ship, but with cats on it instead of pirates.

The cats walk around on their hind legs. They are looking for something. The cats have taught themselves things like how to make a boat, and how to steer it into the Pacific Ocean, and how to carry a Christmas pudding on a dish.

The cats have learnt a lot.

There are one hundred and fourteen cats on the boat. Some times, like if all the cats are bunched up together, looking over the side of the boat at something, it feels cramped and like a bad idea. At other times, maybe if all the cats are in different areas and compartments of the boat, it feels like there is lots of space and the whole thing was a good idea after all.

No one is in charge.

The cats take it in turn to ‘man the rigging’ and ‘carry the Christmas pudding’ and ‘play the record album’. The cats are listening to Tunnel of Love by Bruce Springsteen on repeat. This is their favourite album. It is somehow easier to take songs about low-down American drifters and transmute that experience into the experience of some cats on a boat, than it is, for instance, to take some songs about gangs or about love and transmute those.

The cats are choosy. They are mostly without patience.

The cats go in and out of different areas and compartments of the boat, looking for something. None of them are sure what it is. The cats feel lost and confused. They feel clich├ęd, looking over the sides of the boat and getting excited about a fish.

Fuck dolphins.

Fuck balls of wool.

The cats feel mostly awkward and contorted on their hind legs, but also closer to something. ‘If I could just contort my body enough to become completely vertical,’ they think, ‘like a furry straight line, then maybe there would be more to do, more meaning, more something.’

It is twelve forty a.m. on The Cat Boat and the Pacific Ocean looks like a terrible, ridiculous litter box.

6 comments:

Geoff said...

brilliant!

G said...

Rocking.
And good effort on your blog award!

oscar macsweeny said...

what a shit story. where's the characterisation, where's the themes, whare are the themes, you have to have themse. and metpahors. but no characters? i can't feel these cats. i can't feel for them. there's no empathy. and i hate fucking cats. cats. for fuck sake. cats on a fucking boat. you've got a problem mate. and don't forget - characterisation - it's the key, the most important thing, as well as suspense, suspense is very important, and mystery. what's the mystery - why are the cats on the boat? who put them there? whe

-pc. said...

at first the cat boat scared me slightly, but now I have grown to see that it is in fact the best place for 114 cats.

the distance between me and the cat boat means my cat allergy is feeling better already and i'm almost driven to wonder which is my favourite cat on the cat boat.

almost.

Frank Morgan said...

Oscar MacSweeny thinks Dan Brown is the best author ever

Shane Jones said...

i want to hang out in a cat boat. just go for a ride across the pond perhaps.