Jaws of Things

Fanfiction of that iconic Summer-darkness shark-water franchise of incomplete-distances readings of the perceptible presence of bad philosophy.

Narrated fanfiction of that iconic Summer shark-hell franchise/series Jaws, which I hope you'll like, 

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I started to think of the leviathan/uncertainty of lack of securities for confidence on Earth beaches for Summer seasons daytrips to the waters of life because of the lurking presence of a dangerous ravenous shark from hell at my New England social house when I was doing online study of oceanography arms of water-life variations at places like Scripps.

My name's Amlan Satan, and I spent a Summer season after traveling to Greece at the SoCal area of Ocean Beach and wanted to learn how to surf. It was a good idea, and I transcended any idea as an oceanography-fan that Earth-water life/recreation was seriously/actually perturbed by the dark presence of a ravenous toothed creature from the Inferno, a horrible shark. However, my optimism for my Selfie-age of life-commentary wouldn't be untouched (for citizenry-faces).

READER: You survived, eh?
ME: I had an electric harpoon and a rented small boat for heroics.

READER: You felt like that captain from Moby Dick (Melville)?

ME: I knew I'd do it; so I had to clear the water for Ocean Beach goers, yeah!

READER: Did you feel sorry for the shark after you released the explosive spear?

ME: It's dead...what else matters...for its victim-count soaring to 15 in Summer?

READER: Facebook-like?

ME (screaming): "Get the hell out of the ocean...now!"

BEACH-GOERS: Oh, God...it's a shark (hell!).

ME (screaming): "Get calm and control and your wits...get out of the water/run!"

BEACH-GOERS: Oh, God...someone help us (now!).

ME (screaming): "Get out of the water...your angels will deal with the shark!"

Yes, I felt like that captain from Melville's seminal story about a mind-deformed self-obsessive sea-man chasing a leviathan-creature of the darkened waters of mystery, right here on Planet Earth. However, what choice did I feel I would make, given my knack for youthful-weaponry use and love of oceanography as an American student/sea-man? I did for the beach-goers of Ocean Beach what anyone (like me!) would do that evil Summer on our Blue-Planet dominion of hellmouth(s).

There was a damsel in that water who was ushered out of the Ocean Beach waters, at dawn, on the day I achieved my laurel of Heaven. Shelbye O'Hara, a dark-haired lovely Summer vacationer in that SoCal area, noticed I was in my small rented boat with a fisherman-hat and wielding my electric-harpoon attached to an explosive when I screamed to her, "This isn't an art-picture for Ocean Beach dawn, Shelbye...I'm after a shark lurking here...get out of the water...I've been licensed by the beach municipality, Shelbye (cool?)."

SHELBYE: Art?
ME: Selfie-like (please).

SHELBYE: Shark stew?
ME: What's it?
SHELBYE: Ha, just kidding, darling.

ME: I feel like an animal-killer.

SHELBYE: Bloody-murder, eh?
ME: No, I helped the Ocean Beach likes of you, hon (ok!).

SHELBYE: Irish curry-stew, lamb and potatoes and chicken.

ME: Oh, God good (thanx, friend).

I couldn't believe what I achieved. The Ocean Beach municipality certified me for my Melville-quest knowing of my oceanography scholarship and skill with weapons and willingness to be a lone-missionary while the regular patrols did their part. They knew I had that spark in the brains for shark-pursuit(s). They were right. I felt like an exorcist now. That's why I'm recounting this tale to you, in time-capsule format. Will future-world archaeologists consider my account a special bond of humanity for humilities in the presence of danger/leviathan in the idyllic image of swimming, Summer, life, and document? This was Selfie-like (for Heaven).

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)