Monday, March 19, 2012

chapter eleven - postmodernist apostate

the naked tremble before the machinery of commerce we were all young capitalists learning to steal from the buyer we always pinched a little from the bags we sold and we learned that profits meant the more weed we could smoke ourselves nanuk of the north became the best capitalist of us all we all eventually bought our quarter pound bags from him and we seduced a million girls with the promise of heaven delivered through a pipe and a rolled joint we walked all night tripping on acid and howling at the moon we spent hours upon hours listening to ted nugent Nazareth and black Sabbath putting our trust in the next high the next piece of flesh that we sacrificed to the night we consumed everything being machines of consumption in our drug induced consumerism not knowing that our rebellion still fit the capitalist economic model we were more square than the squares we made fun of we were suckers just like all the rest sucking capitalisms cock we bought records and posters and incense and we bought drugs by the truck loads we supported capitalism with our whole hearts no wonder we never did anything to challenge it our revolution was still a capitalist revolution we weren’t going to change anything we couldn’t see beyond the world that was created for us we cast our ballots in truck stops taverns and bowling alleys we played billiards with the children of the corn and helped them butcher a pig for the prom queen we raced our cars up and down the city streets in search of a new religion we were racing to Golgotha praying for each other and for warm vaginas and voluptuous breasts as we practiced like zealots the art of undress we watched our older brothers cousins friends and enemies disappear into a world with a war in an exotic sounding place as we contemplated and debated by the beer kegs on the possibility of our joining our lost souls to this war and being threatened by our fathers to be taken by shotgun down to the local post office to register for the draft there was revolution in the air and we were too young to recognize it we were too busy making plans to work in factories and buy cars and live in an apartment on our own back then we thought death was a long ways away death only came close to us in rare occasions in the form of distant relatives who we really didn’t know that well this is the age that we started to question what people told us especially our parents our teachers and the news media

we were reading high times and leaning about William Burroughs even though we were too young and stupid to understand the significance of what we were reading I was never a Buddhist I never sought a teacher I never took refuge but I did seek enlightenment in many different forms and expressions when I talk about you I am also talking about myself because our lives are bound up together in one great big ball we are a giant ball of twine connected to one another and many others sometimes I am speechless a poor example of a human being not being able to utter a sound I am speechless I am broken I am obtuse I do have an awareness of the essentials of life of the magic of words and actions how to be a cause in this world to move things for either good or evil but these are things that I learned over time my imagination was just beginning to blossom with the steady diet of blotter acid micro dot mescaline and mushrooms a world was opened up that I never knew existed thoughts entered my mind from the mind of the Jungian primordial past I became connected to all minds and remembered things from previous lives that I had forgotten I didn’t feel compelled it just seemed like something I wanted to do I had read Henry miller’s tropic of cancer tropic of Capricorn and nexus sexus plexus and these works had a profound impact on me I decided to try and write like henry miller and the writing seemed to flow and be comfortable to me I struggled with trying to find my voice to find my style but it seemed like this was the work I was meant to write that it was already written for me I only had to remember it to bring it back to life

watching Godzilla destroying Tokyo people only want to buy shiny things my insecurity is not shiny sending me to the deserted island the aboriginals taught me how to hunt I got a slim chance for survival my walls bleed yellow looking up and down spitting out words trying to say that I am sorry tonya turns on the camera and tries to speak the truth about her life and loves and obsessions we are addicted to her we have to watch as she shares her life with us she loves her viewers and her viewers love her I’m living near sears roebuck right around the corner from the all night taco stand I’m not in your army I’m here studying the natives learning about how they get their drugs I was just bored so I went down to the taco stand I was interested in becoming a successful brain surgeon not interested in living the life that they designed me for the addiction just made things happen it was like the ghosts would come through the open doors chemically altering my metabolism I threw myself out of your windows not interested in staring at my toes a hallucinated viewpoint not realizing that I was dying that we all were dying we start out dying just a little and we discover that we like it so we keep it up and start dying more and more each and every day soon you lose track of the fact that you are dying you just enjoy it too much death is so easy to obtain it is around every street corner everyone is selling death once we get a taste of death then we want to be connoisseurs of death we want to try all kinds of death spiritual death natural death accidental death homicidal death suicidal death undetermined death unclassified death disco death physical death eternal death so many deaths to be experienced

hugo was interested in the direction of the words where the words would take him he was also interested in the relationship between words and the image he would search to find a picture or an image that corresponded with some words that he had written he is interested in projecting himself backward in time back to a previous experience first he was in the bottle and now he is in the mud the image helps him travel backwards in time to the origin of his words he considers words to be awkward instruments imperfect vessels that carry our meanings when I say goodbye to you tonya I am saying goodbye to me I have counted the hours and the days we have spent together god knows hugo has it all documented on video I think he was an anthropologist in a previous life we have danced and kissed so many times before this time we went to the holiday inn and drank seagrams and ate fired clams harpo was there with his overalls on backwards I took you to the strip club and you got up on stage with jane and danced I was left holding your purse and my cock in my hand you and hugo were fighting then when I picked you up at his apartment later that night you had a black eye I asked you about it and you said it was the cost of loving a fool I wasn’t sure if you meant hugo or me

I have been making a list of all of our tomorrows and I plan to send them to you some day destiny can wait with this meticulous swing as we play and pretend I will share my world with you the curves and the straight lines the confusion and the meanings I do not love I only create if my creations love that who am I to stand in their way I would sit and wait for the words to come and then I would wait no longer tonya would ask me to pull her hair to call her a bitch to slap her across the face it was all a game to her and so serious to me I would love her and I would hate her and I would forget the meaning of my words my heart consumed by her cruel game as hugo sat back and applauded always willing to be a gentleman to help tie her down or make sure that the gag was snug sometimes I hated you because you loved him more than me and sometimes I hated you because you loved me more than him and sometimes I hated you because I loved you take from me the bread and the air and the laughter you take away the sunshine that once dwelled in my heart you take from me that which never changes you take from me my blood stained streets I have touched you tonya I have known you I have seen you murder the night I have seen you stab yourself with greed with lust and desire I have seen you hang from the gallows pole your hands upon my body bringing me life you possess me in a dark and glorious way I will always be able to see your face I will always love you as a certain darkness that has found a home within my heart when I see the innocent they remind me of you because you are so evil I will remember the nights when we violated god’s laws maybe this is all political and arbitrary maybe we can hear the giant coming down the hall he was a giant of a man who fought in the war

the things we have sacrificed for the voyeur they pay hugo to watch us you and I are the stars some of them have remembered all of our lines I don’t have to say them anymore others can say them for me even the lines about the crack in the world the crack where all the love seeps out and gets wasted they even make the sadness believable like they have lived it when they haven’t I guess the sadness is what reminds us all that we are really human we all know the measure of sadness this is why we attempt to live beyond the eternal they came for me one by one with their forks and knives their hungry mouths snapping I became a vast arena filled with shouting people they were shouting at the man standing in the center of the ring he had on a top hat and he carried a whip girls on white horses circled the ring they circled and circled the ring it was like they were creating a vortex with their movements above their heads circles a horde of demons the ringmaster would snap his whip and strike a random demon the demon would shriek and rise higher up out of the reach of the whip Willie boy punchy and the little school girl are in the crowd watching the spectacle each time the ringmaster cracks his whip punchy jumps up and dances a little jig the first time punchy does this willie boy starts to laugh and almost chokes on his mouthful of peanuts

Agent Smith is outside smoking a cigar with the circus owner they are talking about politics who will run for president now that Mr. Perry has killed himself he was such a wonderful guy he seemed so presidential who will we pick now you know it is so important for the economy we have to make sure we pick someone who understands how things operate that the free hand of the market means the illuminated control of the illuminated hand yes we should pick someone to run from our membership only this time make sure they are psychologically sound and not going to kill themselves over being jilted by a homosexual messiah this time let’s not pick a Texan those Texans are almost as bad as Californians we will have to meet with Mr. Nervous and see what he thinks about this situation there is always some situation going on we need to keep this place the land of the free and stop giving everything away we are waiting on the man be sure to put a napkin under your cup that is the sign of distinction we need to show that we are set apart from the others that we are special you know we have special training in fencing and yachting in dressing for dinner and tennis knowing what to wear at the appropriate times is so very important to some extent it doesn’t matter what are the thoughts inside the person it matter more the clothes that are on the person the thoughts we can program Dr. Loophole can reprogram anyone’s mind he is a mind control expert as long as the person knows how to dress we can put the proper thoughts into their head and put the words into their mouths that one fellow from Texas was such a good subject he was such a good puppet Dr. Loophole would make that fellow jump when we wanted him to jump and sit down on the floor and bark like a dog that Texas fellow was such a good little puppet for the corporate interests I think it was Mr. Nervous who came up with the idea of putting some fool in office so that we could control the government and the idea of creating a war to make everyone rich was pure genius that Mr. Nervous is a fucking genius no one suspected that we were running the show everyone believes in that democracy bullshit people are so fucking pathetic we had the people hooked and sick they were puking up all over themselves with patriotic fervor no one was willing to question us because then we would have the papers call them un-American if you didn’t support our little war then you didn’t love America what is wrong with you stupid little fuck why don’t you love America everybody loves America you just keep loving America while we rape the country shit the robber barons can’t touch us we are robbing everybody we are robbing the whole fucking world we are manipulating the economy so that we can buy everything up soon we will own everything we changed the game we control everything now blow up a couple of buildings and blame it on some country that taps into the latent racial hatred of three-fourths of the people in the country and we had a green light to go do anything we wanted so we went and destroyed a country and blew everything up and then put it all back together again just like new and we just created a little corporate welfare trick where we transfer money from the average joe to the bank accounts of our companies it was pure fucking brilliance who is going to suggest that starting a war is corporate welfare I mean really we got to protect the soccer moms from the crazy terrorists those foreign terrorists are out to get those sweet and innocent soccer moms damn it just brings a tear to my eye just thinking about it we were just defending motherhood and the apple pie thinking of pie makes me hungry lets go over to the cafeteria and get a piece of pie

tonya is in the cafeteria and is eating a foot long hotdog and winking at the busboy as he clears the tables of dirty dishes she is asking him if he would like to rumble she can see all the goose pimples up and down his arm she salivates just thinking of all those young cells trapped inside his young body she wants to drape himself over him and dissolve his young flesh she is hoping that he will fall down and be paralyzed that way tonya can pounce without resistance sometimes her eagerness scares them away Mr. Nervous and the circus owner watch tonya drool over the young meat the traffic was building up inside the cafeteria and more and more customers crowded in to the small room it became like a persistent dream coffee and some mustard from tonya’s hotdog fell on the floor the busboy looks penetrated with tonya’s astrotheology she is telling him about jesus and the stars how the bible is just a astrological text tonya asks the busboy if he has any pride he tells her he has an alarm clock tonya wipes some mustard from her lip and smiles at the busboy puerile penile a self-induced hypnotic trance the busboy went wrong somewhere and they found him with an injected smile no one could prove that is was all tonya’s fault she blamed it all on the stars the busboy had some bad stars some say the busboy died of the yellow sickness Dr. Loophole assessed the situation and came up with brain control he hypnotized everybody into believing the lie even tonya was believing in the lie Dr. Loophole was feeding her blue oatmeal and she was starting to glow he said it was necessary to make amends with the ascended fathers but I was convinced it was all bullshit when I get the shakes I can tell bullshit from your common everyday truth and I was having the shakes really bad once Dr. Loophole had tonya humming he had her service all of his clients however all of his clients began to glow in the dark the good doctor said that this was the cost of doing business

tonya had this way of sitting on your lap and working your cock up in her like a corkscrew then she works it like a meat grinder spurting inside her it was like smoking black hash after we were done I had to lay down and take a nap tonya is more than a human being she is above it all I am reading about her in the USA today something about blue eyes and brown eyes she was planning an art war and saving her pennies to travel to Arkansas to visit the saint she claims that she is still the same seven years later broken off and reconnected she listens to the words of the saint everyday soaking up the energy she is a dedicated fan watching the hermits playing with the crabs scratching everyone is scratching it is contagious or as tonya likes to say cuntagious (spell check doesn’t like this) there was soldiers everywhere shooting the civilians I wondered how they knew who to shoot I guess it is important to know that before you go off shooting people all those waiting to be hanged could feel it too tonya can you feel me the screams can tear right through you the soldiers were not very good and it took a long time for the people to die I crawled right up into tonya’s muddy canal it just made me feel good all over she was all high jungle warm and steamy I was going to trade her for a new soul since mine was pretty much worn out all those years of good living can really catch up to you I worked her patch  of corn on the side of the mountain she started drawing formulas on the floor she told me about the illuminated hand and how they controlled everything she drew symbols all over the floor she said these symbols represented the universe and its power she called up priest and he came over he took off his clothes and did a belly dance just like I used to watch bertha do so many years ago Mr. Crowley is knocking at the door and screaming at Jane he is pissed off that she has a priest in her apartment the priest is scared shitless he is afraid of Mr. Crowley he hurries and gets his clothes on and jumps out a back window jane opens the door and lets Mr. Crowley in he searches everywhere for the priest he says he knows that a priest was in here because he can smell the fear and desperation he takes jane into the bedroom and starts to slap her around I find a gun under a seat cushion in the couch and point it at Mr. Crowley and tell him to back the fuck up he lunges for the gun several times and each time I kick him in the face and tell him to stop being stupid Mr. Crowley decides that it is in his best interests to leave an incendiary bomb was thrown through the window and everything was on fire for some strange reason the smell of the fire made me think of bath and body works weird huh it was some sort of melon smell

knowing a lot of numbers across the length and breadth a latrine or cesspit we wonder and slip back into the madman’s spell jane is so tall I can’t get over how tall she is it seems like she has grown a foot taller over the past year slowly dying of revulsion you said it takes you to wtf? Well how and when and where and why of course I might have an inkling of the why acetic and hunched over sniffing the flowers I smell of melons the fire is still upon me in the weak light of a single bulb I worked on him like a drug he didn’t resemble self-pity he could work the hyphens he had a way with the hyphens it was like his calling not in words but in painful images he kept them all in a leather briefcase that was locked with a metal clasp Archimboldi he was reading Archimboldi the words would fall off the page and then stand up and dance away there was a danger and an innocence that were mixed together he was damaged that was plain and simple any reader would be able to make this conclusion the narrator in his stories was a force to be reckoned with I was surprised how he was able to write all 3,00 books with his flipper arms he must have had a special computer crafted or special software that he could dictate the words of the story to I think his novels created a sense of love and repulsion in his readers they both loved him and hated him at the same time like a mutant baby that kills the neighbors yet you hide the truth from the law while the mutant baby continues to murder all of your neighbors whom you once respected and loved in their own right but not at the level of love that you would have for your own child the whole thing is very messed up and sad yet so very moving at the same time it is the greek plays of comedy and tragedy all together again you don’t know whether to cheer or cry as you turn each page as I read Archimboldi I feel like he was trying to hide something from us some great evil that he was a part of by telling us all these wonderful lies about all these other people it is like he is trying to distract us trying to hoodwink the reader into believing something that is not true I would advise you to be wary of anyone trying to sell you their version of the truth it is like he is sharing with us his own personal delusion his own hideousness he is pulling out his heart and showing us its blackness the true evil that is inside (notice that I used the word true, skepticism should be flooding into your mind at this moment, beware! Beware!) not only does he have flippers for arms but he is short very short about the size of a fire hydrant I can see him sitting in a chair perched atop a pile of phone books and flapping away at his keyboard pushing out brilliant word after brilliant word you can from his writing that he is highly educated and most probably has watched way too mush television he may be one of those television addicts there is this self-consciousness about his writing and there is this worldliness and sophisticated sense about his writing that makes him appear more traveled and cultured than the rest of us when I read his novels it’s like I get an education every time I learn new things about the world and myself and the learning is not like getting your teeth pulled it seems like Archimboldi is afraid of the reader’s reactions to his words and that he was controlling how people interpreted his words conscious of the manipulation how he comes off I think he obsessed over it he wanted to structure the meaning so that we would interpret it in a certain way in a way that put a positive light upon the writer so that we would think of the writer as a wonderful person someone with insight and understanding someone who could feel for the common person someone who was just like us who had feelings like us and fears like us someone we could associate with feel like they were a part of our cause even though the tenor of his words told us that he was not Archimboldi wants to persuade his audience he wants to employ the tricks of the Sophist yet hide behind the curtain of authenticity he wants us to consider him to be connected to a history of writers and this connection gives him a pass to bamboozle us I think deep down inside Archimboldi wants us to think that he is smart and cool I think it is an unhappy paradox going on with his writing he wants us to believe and he is afraid that we will believe too much he gives us a ticket to board the train and then he precedes to drive the train off the bridge to sacrifice himself and his readers for the sake of preserving the American dream in the worthiness of the novel the inflated jargon perpetrates a kind of double fraud the reward is not proportional to the effort I am afraid you should burn all of his books and run for your lives make up for the time you have lost do something worthwhile donate for a worthy cause Archimboldi has taken from you something that you can’t get back

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