History

HISTORY

1. xyphoid (zyfoid) adj. Shaped like a sword. Of or relating to the xiphisternum. n. See xiphisternum. [Greek xiphoeids: xiphos, sword + -oeids, -oid.] Source: The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language

2. xyphoid \Xiph"oid\ a. [sword-shaped; xi`fos a sword shape: cf. F. xiphoide.] (Anat.) (a) Like a sword; ensiform. (b) Of or pertaining to the xiphoid process; xiphoidian. Source: Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary

3. Xyphoid (Tales of) n. Imagination. Land of make-believe. Infinite creative thought. Source: John Morgan Curtis

Tales of Xyphoid's origin began in my high school sophomore year health class. One of the main topics of health class was CPR. We would practice CPR and mouth to mouth on a plastic dummy affectionately named "Annie". Annie looked just human enough to be disturbing. If anyone had to go through this process, then you know what I mean. Her eyes were closed, but could be lifted up to check her vapid life-less stare. Only equipped with an upper torso and poorly clothed in gym instructor sweats, she looked like a victim of a hideous car accident.

Looking like dangling intestines, she had wires connected to what looked like a miniature stop light. If you performed CPR correctly, the green light would flash. If you were almost correct, the yellow light lit up, and the red light was for completely improper and dangerous form. While the occasional romantic kiss erupted the class in laughter, the real fun happened when our teacher would leave the room. The boys would have quite a bit of fun creatively upping each other, finding the most violent way to get a red light. Through out this mayhem, this became my favorite class, so I ended up learning quite a bit.

One of tricks of finding the right spot on the sternum to perform CPR was to locate the xyphoid. The xyphoid is at the base of the sternum. If you run your fingers down your sternum until you reach a depression, that's the xiphisternum or xyphoid process. To perform CPR, we were taught to put our hands two fingers up from the xyphoid. I thought "xyphoid" was a fantastic and colorful word, as well as being a functioning word that started with "X". One gets real tired of hearing "X is for Xylophone".

Another past time of mine was doodling on my school folders. All class I would begin at a spot and start drawing all sorts of creatures and odd-looking things. After a few weeks, every inch of my folder would be covered in ink. My actions didn't escape notice as many of my peers at the desks around me would ask to see my folder. Many times my folder was passed around the room until the teacher would confiscate it. Ironically enough, it was my health teacher that asked to have a parent teacher conference concerning "the disturbing images on my folders." My father looked at my folders and simply asked what these images were. I replied they were stream of conscious doodles that didn't mean anything. That was enough for him. He went into the conference and diligently defended me and gave a piece of his mind to my teacher for wasting his time. Thanks Dad!

Xyphoid soon found itself repeatedly amongst my folders. Finally though assosciation, all my creations lived in a place called Xyphoid. From there Xyphoid expanded from a being place to becoming a concept. Xyphoid became synominous with imagination, but it was my land of imagination in all its twisted glory and beauty. Xyphoid became a platform for which anything goes, everything is possible, and especially, no rules. The only thing to hold me back is the limit of my own imagination. These songs, stories, and ideas are simply Tales of Xyphoid.

How I became the Emperor of the Universe

Three days before my college graduation I had an enlightening encounter with the prophet "Bruce” at a giant warehouse party in Chicago. Bruce was former Marine in his forties with a Mohawk and was one of those overly-zealous individuals where his throttle is stuck at 100 MPH. He was clamouring on about how shaving your head and his Mohawk was a symbolic expression of freedom. While chatting I told him about the time when I was in Kindergarten and my teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Instead of replying a fireman or a doctor like the other kids, I declared, "I want to be the Emperor of the Universe!" My teacher didn’t like this very much and made me sit out in the hallway while everyone else had playtime. She then had a heart to heart talk with me to inform me that my ambitions should be something much more realistic like becoming a businessman or an accountant. Bruce was furious after hearing this story. I agreed with him saying that was no reason not to be able to participate in playtime. Bruce emphatically shouted "No!" He grabbed me and stated that I should never sell myself short and that if I wanted to be the Emperor of the Universe, then I should become the Emperor of the Universe. Bruce was quite insistent on the idea, so much so that I discreetly departed from the party to escape Bruce’s fastidious ire. For the next three days I couldn’t escape the recollection of my kindergarten proclamation. After much deliberation, I came to the inevitable conclusion – Bruce was right!

At my graduation ceremony I arrived with my new shaved head much to the embarrassing detriment of my parents. I went on stage, got my diploma, shook the President’s hand, and then took a beeline to the microphone, which was still live. In front of thousands of people at a packed UIC Pavilion I officially announced I was the Emperor of the Universe. Now mind you, I was met with the resounding sound of silence, but it didn’t matter, it was official – I was the Emperor of the Universe. Some people think this story is a joke, some think I’m incredibly arrogant, and some people I’m happily pleased to know get it - never sell yourself short, you can be anything you want in this world, and who knows, you might find yourself as the Emperor of the Universe.

Biography

John Morgan Curtis is a musician, illustrator, and filmmaker. He received a dual-major B.A. in Film and Illustration from Columbia College. After graduation, he formed the rock group, Captain Pyrite, recorded two full-length albums and toured America. Returning to Chicago, John Morgan made a series of short films including Commander Tongue, the cartoon chosen to kick off the 1999 Chicago Underground Film Festival. Later shorts include the humorous Deathfest: Blood Waltz and the Sneezing Game, which have all appeared at the 2003 and 2006 Chicago Short Comedy Video & Film Festival, while the short, Broken Tattoo, appeared on Channel 11 WTTW’s television show, Image Union. In addition to his freelance work John Morgan produces a satirical underground comic book anthology, Tales of Xyphoid. He currently is in the studio recording his third studio album and working on his first feature length film.

About the Author

John Morgan Curtis traveled from outer space on a shooting star. He parachuted down to Earth on a Stargrass seed where his parents found him. His parents were quite lucky in finding all of their children. They found John Morgan’s older brother, Tim Marshall, under a mushroom and the eldest child, Tracey Lee, in a blooming tulip. All three children had pointed ears and golden blonde hair. The parents believed their new children were hidden away by the elves from a wicked witch. The elves also secretly hid gold in the children’s hair. Slowly over time, the elves retrieved their gold explaining why the children’s hair is no longer blonde. The family of five grew up happily, safe from the wicked witch. Tracey Lee was quite lucky in finding three daughters of her own. The first was found in the center of a kidney bean, the second as a Christmas tree ornament, and the third downloaded from the Internet. Tim Marshall bought a yacht and sailed the seven seas until he found his queen and discovered their daughter in the center of a coconut. The parents retired as king and queen to their castle above the sea. From out their window they gaze down to the great garden and listen to the lapping surf from the shoreline. John Morgan became the Emperor of the Universe and wanders about the Earth filled with many questions. He doesn’t have a home but hopes to one day.

For more information and numerous photos of the Emperor of the Universe Click Here.