The Holer's Credo
Home Up The Black Hole Literary Review Wm. E. Allendorf, Prop.

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Someone asked me recently what a "Holer" was. I replied that it
was one of the Hole. That did not sit to well with my visitor.

"What is it to be a Holer?" said the old man in the green chair. 

"I'll tell you what it takes.
I'll tell you what it takes
to lay your life down to Hole, 
to rein that butterfly haaaarrrd!!!
. . .and run swiftly in the onshore winds of your destiny.

I'll tell you what it's like to ride
in the fast lane to entropy,
and know that it is a good day to die
--for somebody else, thank you, 
and will you please pass the Pepsi. 

I'll tell you what it takes, my friend.
My life reads like bad Vonnegut
My passport has been stamped by every
starchy little pissant at the border between
What Was and What Should Be.

And they still search my bags, 
'Cause they just don't know how to treat
a gentleman smuggler.

I'll tell you what it takes.
I'll tell you what it takes!
I'll tell ya'. . .

With this, the old man in the green chair fell asleep. A woman
close by the green chair suggested in a thick indeterminant accent
that it might be time to go. She found a blanket and covered the
old man up before escorting the vistor out the door.

"He never did get around to explaining what a Holer is."

"Nevermind," said the small dark woman. "It's just one of those
things he says that you are just as well not thinking about."

The visitor nodded agreement and left. The woman turned out the
lights and locked the door behind her. She laughed at the course
of the evening now ended, as she walked to her butterfly which was
parked somewhere on the next block.

Editor's Note:  A "Holer" was one who regularly attended the Black Hole's functions.  There were classes of Holers based on their years of attendance.  There were the Old Holers from pre 1976.  There were the New Old Holers who came to the Black Hole of Calhoun Street and Le Trou Nouveu on Ohio Avenue from 1976 to 1981.  Then there were the New Holers that started coming in April of 1982 to the Black Hole Coffee House on Victor Street.  In January 1989, the Black Hole went virtual with the Black Hole Literary Review.  Members of this online community were just called Holers.

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