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Article 11 of 36
Subject: CODY: FROSH Chap.4 Dire Vulgarities...
From: mithryl@walrus.com (Mithryl)
Date: 1996/11/12
Message-Id: <56b0eh$6bm@alice.walrus.com>
Organization: Intellitech Corporation
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage,alt.sex.stories,rec.arts.prose
Chapter 4
Dire Vulgarities & Other Goddamn Nonsense
"I wish to say that we all look forward with great pleasure to four
years of wonderful, inspiring speeches, full of wit, poetry, music, love
and affection, plus more goddamn nonsense." -- David Brinkley, ABC,
election night, after saying "Bill Clinton ... has not a creative bone in
his body. Therefore, he's a bore and will always be a bore." Good night,
Chet. Good night, David. Goodbye, America.
*
"If you don't exist outside your book, where were you - or where
weren't you - for the past two weeks? Yes, I know where you physically
were, but what were you, I suppose is the better question...
"I'm glad you don't want to be Evita any more, because actually I'd
gotten a bit tired of it myself... may I ask what changed your mind,
though? It just didn't seem to fit quite right." -- ex-Thurber
Dear P.
So many metaphysical questions. So little grass to smoke them.
And yet, I feel a need to answer them. Try to. As if...
My voices are silent. Technically, of course, I was in Georgia.
I have still not given a full accounting of that, the round of visits to
Kelly's various relations, the requirement to be endlessly feminine and
accomodating in a southern sort of way. A spirit of generousity from
which the mind averts shuddering.
But I think you mean something different, like what am I when I am
not writing. And the answer is, nothing. If I stand in front of a
mirror, I see a young woman with certain describable features: long red
curly hair, a pretty face, large green eyes and full wet lips; further
down, large breasts hanging on a bony chest, nice shoulders, a flat,
smooth belly, wide hips, long, somewhat skinny legs; a cunt basin filled
with thick red hair that is curled and tangled and rises in a dark plume
up my tummy all the way to the belly button, and even an inch or so
beyond. I think I have so much hair because of the hormones I take to
make my boobs bigger. Furthermore, I am wearing clothes: a pale green
spandex dress; it's fairly low cut. It has a short skirt. I have on
black stockings and high heeled pumps. I'm wearing a black choker. I
have long strands of faux diamond earrings that catch the light.
Bracelets. Gloves. A short red cape. Like I said, nothing.
I know people think I'm pretty. They tell me all the time. But
it's like they're talking about someone else. Someone who's not me. So
it's not like I'm vain when I say that I'm extraordinarily beautiful. If
I described Kelly and said she was, you wo uldn't think I was; so it's
sort of the same principle. I'm talking about some other girl. No.
That's not right. I'm talking about the way I am when I'm not talking or
writing about myself. When I am not writing, I almost don't exist.
There's just t his flesh thing that's practically brain dead. That people
fuck. They like to fuck. Like, I'm a sex toy. A blow up doll. With
real flesh and blood. But it's not me. I don't know who I am. But I'm
not Evita. The woman in the coffin. I saw a photo graph of her in her
coffin. 20 years after she died. She didn't look dead at all. She
looked old. But she was totally preserved. I heard people fucked her.
My voices are silent. I hear nothing tonight. I thought maybe
your letter would stimulate me. Get me going. But inside, I'm totally
empty. I figured out today why I read the Times in the morning. Because
it stops the dreams.
For awhile.
I'm dreaming all the time. Vast, long, complicated dreams that
leave me totally exhausted. I can dream a Dostoievski novel in one night.
In Russian. I wake up, and I think, my god, what happened to me? And
then I lay down and go back to sleep, and t here's more weird stuff, I
can't say what, which goes on until I wake up again.
Every night. But I can never remember it. I just have this sense
of having been somewhere. Maybe I still am. It's not like I'm trying to
remember. I'm not. Or that I don't want to. I don't care. The only
time it stops is when I read the paper. W hich may be why people read
papers. To stop the dreams. Get them back to Planet Earth. I have a lot
of school dreams. Being in schools. Not like P.S. 114. I mean real
schools. In the Andes. Or the Himalayas. Or Mexico. Where they teach
you somet hing. But I never remember when I wake up. No matter how hard
I try. Someone tells me something. Something really profound. Like,
real secret knowledge. But when I wake up, zero.
There must be some way to bring it back. Wouldn't you think? I
mean, this has been going on for years. You would think the masters would
have figured out by now that I'm a bimbo and stop telling me. But they
don't. They're very patient. They even d raw diagrams on blackboards,
and give me road maps. And other directions. But as soon as I open my
eyes, zip.
If the fate of the world depended on my being able to remember, it
would be over. On the other hand, maybe I do remember. Maybe it's all in
there somewhere, and I just don't know how to access it. I wonder how you
would do that.
On the other hand, suppose I did remember it?> What would I do
with it? You know, Hungry Charlies at four in the morning fucking a pole
isn't an entirely appropriate spot to reveal the secret of the universe.
Actually, that is what I'm revealing, only most of these guys don't call
it that. I don't care what they call it as long as they keep stuffing
twenty dollars bills up inside.
You do know what "can can" is sanskirt for don't you?
In fact, "can" is the root word of both that and Congress.
Oh, no non non non] I am not going to get political. I've had
enough of that. i going to stay far away from that. thank you. talking
bout dreams and schools. And secret knowledge. You know something? In
my dreams, I'm never fucked. I'm not even scummed. Nobody makes me take
my clothes off. Or degrades me. Or tries to make me feel cheap and
depraved. It's not like they don't notice I'm pretty. But that's not a
requirement. That's just ... it just is. It's like I know I am from the
inside out and there's no need to talk about it. Congress is just about
the furtherst thing from my dreams as I can imagine. It isn't even in
them.
That or the Times.
The Times is on the lunch counter when I come into the restaurant.
The New York Times. Stop and think about that for a moment. What it
says. It's almost a mantram. But what are the New York times? Or what
were they? Think about it a moment. The t imes in New York. We had. We
were very tired, we were very merry, we had rode back and forth all night
on the ferry. Compared to what this paper calls itself. And you ate a
pickle and I ate a pair, and when you turned around, I wasn't even there.
My dreaming eyes pick out words: welfare. Clinton. rent laws.
immigrant. legal. Lott. Bruno. They wind me up. Into a hyatal hernia.
They might as well be saying Vlad the Impaler is flying from house to
house, chewing on young girls' necks. Bela Lag ozi is loose in the Bronx.
The Black Plague is making a comeback. The dreams stop. Replaced by
fear. And anger. These fucking bastards are coming to get me. I hate
them. Leave me alone. I think of buying a gun when I'm in Florida at
Christmas and bringing it back to defend myself. At least I'll take some
of the bastards with me when they kick down the door. Who am I kidding?
I couldn't hurt a flea. I'm totally non-violent. I don't even know how
to defend myself. In a fight. Guys like to pun ch me out. Because they
like seeing me try to defend myself with my tits getting in the way. I
try to protect my tits and get hit in the belly. I move my hands down,
and someone slaps my face. I end up with a concussion, or a broken arm or
leg.
The Times takes me away from that. The same as tv. Tv also kills
the dream. Better than drugs. Better than poison. Stops it dead. If I
watch tv, I don't think about who I am either. Tv takes me out of myself.
Shows me other people. People like myself. All with problems. Some
overcoming great obstacles. Some doing marvelous things. Like Peter
Jennings. Or Charles Roamer. The hatchet men are like Virgil leading you
through the circles of the damned. Yea, though I walk through the Studio
of the Damned, I shall fear no ratings, for Neilsen is with me...
My voices are silent. Why>> Have I sinned so much> Am I so evil?
No. It did not seem right that I was Eva. The social justice
role didn't become me. The great books. The raising up the sick and
weak. Fuck the weak. That's the trouble with America. The poor and
downcast have been getting above themselves. The o nly reason we included
them in the New Deal was we needed their support. Now, we can jettison
them. In the end, everything is taken away. That's why we call it the
Appocalypse. The Appocalypse follows the Holocaust. So get ready to
Limbo.
It turned out to be the 105th congress, so it was a six. The last
six was the ninety sixth. And before that, the eighty-seventh. You
notice a nine divides them. All the way back to the sixth congress. In
1777. Equals 4. 1997 = 8.
666 equals 9.
Portents and cymbals of the coming attractions.
I suppose you know Chantal Chambers. I asked her to be in our
committee. I hope that's okay. I don't want to make waves. Soon it will
be just like home. After all, they don't call it the House for nothing.
But a house is not a home. We will be hol ding hearings. In Aberdeen.
Phillips. She'll be in charge of public relations. Just give it to
Aberdeen will you Philip and stop grousing. Can we get on with the
meeting. I think you all know why we're here. We're studying Aberdeen,
Aberdeen. You k
know what that is. Yes.
oh, really>? That's more than the rest of us.
Who does she know?
That's the important thing.
Not who's ripping what off. The matches. They always go for the matches.
And the napkin rings. They don't even look at the clothes. Philip, if we
could have your attention, we'll get on with the meeeting.
Me? Eating? I didn't know the rules. I'm sorry.
get m,e out of this contraption. Adder, shut up.
Aberdeen, Aberdeen. Prettiest slut you've ever seen.
You know you're a raving queen
when you look in the mirror and see Aberdeen.
Proving Grounds. Shut up, Nathaniel. Aberdeen. Aberdeen. Pretiest
master sergeant I ever seen
You don't know what proving is until you've been pistol whipped
in Aberdeen.
By a D.I. wanting to get in your pants.
mutants. They're on the base. Xavier figured this out.
Does anyone have x-factor four?
ninja turtles. ningatrurtles Ninga Hurdles. CXome in and take a bow.
like resturfull
Chjannel what do you suggest?
The Bagardi. Definitel.y
How big a staff am I supposed to have./ I've got fifty people signbed up
already. The only one I couldn't put on the payroll was my beloved Kelly.
A new veil had dropped between us. We were now divided by who could serve
and who couldn't. Kelly was on the outside looking in. Sorta like a
first lady. She couldn't get a job.
You know, we all got free laptops. Just for getting elected.
They were loaded with stuff. Maps of the hallways. The closest
restrooms. History of the Capitol. Names and addresses, games. You
could even order stuff from the company store. House of Rep. golf balls
cost $5.82, plus tax.
There was a game in here called Clockroom. You would get a message
to come to the Clockroom. And a map. At least the first three or four
times. But after that, you were expected to remember.
Other times there was just an address or room number.
Sometimes I took Kelly. Sometimes I went alone. I had special
constituents I was supposed to see. I don't want to talk about Congress.
My dreams, my dream places, where I was young and beautiful were taken
from me, and I tried to recover myself in ti
me to take it back.
snap
bap
Make this one good.
She knew how to vote.
You turn this handle.
NO NOT NOW
When you vote
never touch it unless you're going to vote.
You know what they say, if you pull a gun on someone, be ready to shoot
him.
Otherwise it could hurt like hell.
Adder?
Kelly.
no.
Cody
oh
you look like...
what?
he was going to say,
hjer
she touched him. He jumped. Nice seeing you again.
What did she mean again?
She's here.
She's right here in the capital.
My God, what if...
my wife finds out
I'm pregnant
famous chinese monkey story tell of great sage who got pregnant by
drinking waters from a lake through which they were passing. He lifted
his hand to his mouth and took a drop on his tongue. That was all that
was needed. She worshipped him. Very nice.
Lindt chocolate. The seed rushed into his gut and began to germinate.
Could that happen here? I forget the antidote. You mean? All 435 of
them. Not counting the women. The women are fine. Hi, Carol. Hi, Cody.
Nice meeting you. I always admire d your work. Thank you. I read your
novel. Oh? It was quite... novel. Fucked on the internet. What a jade.
Come see me soon. I will. Bye. She gave me her address. I looked at
it. 205. 7.
All famous numbers can be reduced to nine digits. Nine is all
yoiu need. Let Super Cock in, honey. Thanks., Hey., this is a nice
place. Don't tell anybody. I won't. I promise. A lot of girls made
promises they can't keep. Come in, Trent. It's n ice to meet you. I
don't think we've ever met, have we? A lot of guys would be intimidated
by someone like me. You just have to know how to talk to your
congressman. It's been a grueling defeat. Did it ever occur to you
exactly what split meant?
huh?
Two corridors meet in a splendid wood. What would you do? Try the tire
iron. Cody, let go. It's alright. The elections over. Do you have any
idea how that must feel? Talk about being untimely ripped from your
husgband's womb. Big with child. Preg nant with desire. An end to all
those Newt jokes. Forget it. Now you can say things like Richard
Gephardt. Tijuana Brass. Pick me up at eight, and don't be late, honey.
Men go to Washington to congress. Now they are congressing. It looks
like a go od year. I'm glad to see you again. Setting up a consulting
business. Oh, really? The losers always want to stick around. Give
advice. Sell it. Forget it. You're out of here. Warning: Don't hang
around inside the Beltway after dark if you don't b elong here. Because
we are Congress. Get it? Losers, go home. Forget it. No selling. No
peddling influence. It sounds cruel, but do you have any idea how many
old congressmen want to keep coming back and back like they're Dracula
with his teeth sunk in the neck of the body politic. Sucking. For all
he's worth. Count Dracula. They've got his coffin down in one of the
subbasements. He only comes out to vote. I suppose you think this is
going to be another one of those boring Dracula stories sli cing out the
dead meat like an gyro roast. Here, want a chunk of this one? Where they
come to bid., Cody was taken down into the vaults to meet him. Fresh
young blood. Can Kelly come too? No dear. Leave Kelly at home. This is
just you. And the old count. She teetered along in high stilletto heels
and a short platinum party dress. A vision of light and scintilation.
You should have seen what came back.
Cody?
I almost couldn't see her. Cody. Are you okay?
uyes
she was stark white. No light at all. Just dead white. With a little
bit of blood on her lips.
i i think i need a transfusion
we got her one.
the next night it was the same.
She used up D.C.'s entire stock of type bo
it's the commonest blood type, so thousands were dying for her her life
nicth wahr? Codycat?
uh yeah
they had to truck it in from Maryland and Virginia. Cody was a pipeline
to the pentagon. The whole country was going broke. Demon sized posters
appeared above her cunt in gleaming red letters. Abandon All Hope Ye who
enter McDonald's
i abase myself
i eat a quarterpounder raw
it was a new craze: Raw McDonald's
overnight,
the golden arches became biker bars across America
cook it and you're dead.
she took it in
and kept taking
and taking
and taking
and gave nothing back
now you pay, you little maggots. I will crush you with my Housemanship.
Now kneel. It will be like American Auschwitz. Complete with ferris
wheels and bulletcoaster rides. Rent control. Who needs it? Social
security? Let them puke in the street. Welfare. A thing of the past.
Out out damned entitlements. Medicare. Rip it away. Unplug it. Let it
die. I will take everything from you. We will whip you down to your very
souls. Because I have won. I have power. I will crush you. Just let m
e get my hands on that voting machine. Cody, you only touch it when
there's something to be voted upon. Otherwise, it's impotent. I don't
give a shit. I want to vote anyway. Stop twisting it. You'll break it,
you little fuck. They had to drag her s hrieking out of the chamber. And
the place wasn't even in session yet. Think what she'll be like in
January. It's time to tell Americans the truth. That they're a bunch of
weenies. You little schmuck's you'll vote for me and like it. I
confronted he r. What are you talking about? I'm taking everything.
Everything. It's mine. All of it. Just take everything. Who cares if
they starve?
Every new congressman feels like that. It's normal. But you
can't take everythihng at once. You have to go through channels. Decide
what to rip off first. It's like being in a big department store. You
can take anything you want, but you have to pa y. Yellowstone. How about
that? A damn and a couple of bimbos. Raise you a national park and a
strip mine across the Grand Coulee Dam. Oregon's below there. I offer two
spades and a deuce. In that case, we can use slave workers. Prisoners.
You've got to get the jargon down. We don't say slaves. We say
prisoners. Criminals. We can supply you with a bunch of harden criminals
to daycare the children. It was better than nothing. Four hospitals.
This was just cheap stuff. We were learning how t o bargain. We were new
at it. We expected to get ripped off. We could make allowances. She
could go down on the general while her friend takes out the Shiek. Nice
briefcase. We put in Rothenberg bank accounts. You do know about that,
don't you? Th ey were above the law. But how would I have access to it?
We'll work that out. It's money you think you have stored off someplace
where no one will notice it, but only you can get to. Like my inner
knowledge. I think I know I know something but I'm n ot sure how to get
it back. How's that? Come again. Like a machine gun. Being fucked by a
Rothenberg was a prime experience. Numero uno. But don't ever try to
collect. Just ride with it. It's a big account. But don't worry about
it. Just follow orders and everything will be alright. okay. Don't move
or say anything, but I killed her. I had to. She was driving me mad.
Now I am a dead man. I don't know why they haven't arrested me. I will
never see her again. They started the train. It we nt towards Lasces.
In the Pyranees. Nice pair of knees. Knocking. I'm so scared, I can't
think. So don't. Take it easy. It's right around here. Now get your
clothes off. Hurry up. Fucking whore. Move. The computers show all the
hot spots. Pla ces where you'd better not go alone. I looked like some
of the aides walking around here. Girls I had seen on television cspan
with their long red hair sitting behind senators and members of the House.
docile. waiting.
sometimes turning to each other.
looking
staring off into space
watching someone on the other side of the room
looking intelligent
flashing their underwear
turning to look the other way
standing up
walking across the room
to get something and bring it back
I was above them
I was a member
I could command my own coterie of exotic youngsters
my whip mistresses
they walked about the room in their panty underwear and corsets
this one's skinny minnie straight as a rail with tiny little tits
and an ugly face
she has a face like a dog's mouth
she's very popular
in hearings
where things can get boring
and even the naked witch of the west can look good to an old senator
w3hat a dog
feed this into the synthesizer and see what comes out
Cody on the brain
eventually someone will figure it out
Cody pours
She's a chunnel
running whores under the wall. Few realize there is no access route
through the one chamber which will lead to the other.
Nuklid's Law. All roads lead to the wall. None goes through it. At
least, I haven't found it yet. There's a legend that once the two
chambers were able to communicate. It worked like a heart. If everything
was hooked up right, everything would get t hrough. But now nothing does.
The wall runs right down the center of Washington. All the way to the
White House. If it wasn't for Clinton, nothing would get done. He' s got
the two sides talking to each other for the first time since the war
ended.
But this is not to besmirch the local government which is having a
cancer crisis. You have to slice off the dead meat and put it in the
gyros. And people eat it. And we are saved. I don't want to allarm you
but don't look now, the apocolypse is comin g. Some say it's arleady been
here, and this is it. They are the Evil Redeemers. Who curse our feeble
attempts to save anything in the wake of the holocaust. The after burn.
But others say the Divine Hoover is yet to come. And he will stand before
you with the loose goddess named Codysan. The being cometh. Hail onto
the Being. Who will crush the godspelll Codyin a veil of white.
what?
I'm telling you. don't wake up
I lost contact.
someone was coming to get me.
I'm choking
why don't you just kill me and get it over with
because I'm not through with you bitch
Cody was lying under the desk, looking up
fried pig
we didn't even kill it
look at it jump
native tradition
Save the sasquatchoall
up your Zambesi
laughter
play the tape
He said Saint Nicholas.
oh yeah
it wasn't the n-word.
it was nicolas.
ha ha
a speech impediment
yeah. Right.
fucking sick perverted nazi racist. I said Easter Bunny, you asshole.
A whole new set of swear words that had to be outlawed. Haunika. Fuck
you hymie. Fourth of July up your rectum. Bonzai. Your mother's potato
patch. Soon we discovered that every word and every combination oif words
wwas a sick perverted ethnic obsce nity, so all speech was outlawed.
Because all words were dirty. Silence reigned for half an hour. Then
they broke the seal. Holocaust? I'll show you fucking holocaust, you
little pigmies. Whoosh. Nuclear Fusion. It started in a lab in Maryland
and took the whole planet with it. You had to be totally plugged in to
appreciate it. I mean, like wow. It was a mainstream. Right on target.
A thousand babies were born. On the Super Bullet. Housing became a joke.
We were back to sod busting. None of these houses were aerodynamic. They
would have made 800 look like a Ferris Wheel. Well, actually, it was a
ferris wheel. I told him not to shoot that thing off in the plane. Wait
til you get to Paris. Excuse me. Who is communicating?> I think I have a
right to know. Since I'm doing the transmitting. No. The transmitter
must remain clean. Screw that. I want to know. It's a pandora's box.
Fuck you. Let me light one. The cleaner the transmitter, the better the
reception. So she had to be kept in the dark. Now go ahead.
Transmission was shut off. I am not a hallway for someone else's remarks.
Get out of my ears. Fuck you. If I want voices, I'll ask for voices.
Keep them out. Heather, get out of here. She was the little girl I was
talking to the other day. From Wyoming. That's where she was from. I
don't know how she got to Waco. She seems to have been one of David's
wives. I think she had a kid. A little girl. There's a film of David
with his children. Where he's playing w ith them. They can hear the
shrieking noise from outside in the background. The military music. They
raised the Grateful Dead to an obscenity. It was not the Avalon Ballroom.
The little engine that could. Wait a minute. What engine? What is the
Av alon Ballroom? Where is this freaky place?> A train with a balloon
tied to it is batting about the studio like it was aperson. The baloon is
like a big pink head. It's got helium in it and its docking at a derrick
with it's nose. And the little engin e that could is going around in
circles under it, and people are treating it very nice. Like excuse me.
Sorry. I'll get out of your way. Tic tock tic tock and the balloon
bounces along like it's got a life of it's own that its going to. And
then it e xplodes. The whole thing is like in flames and people are
screaming; no there isn't screeamiong at all it's so quiet exceept for the
beating at the walls like there's a thing out thwere and there's nothing
to cojforty me but hope oh god i can't stand it i'm soi afraid it's like a
thing possesseed i can't describe it I can't even remember it what she
told me i can't help it i'm crying what did she say? i love you i can't
help it i hurt i hu shit can't I have a life without ghosts? I didn't hear
anything it was a voice in my head buit it was nothing i'm not in tune
with the spirits jkust leave me alone my name is Cody Ann Michaels I am
not going mad that fucking comfort station would look pretty damned good
in a firestorme a last hold out before we went to the cremetorium get out
of my fucking head I hate you I ha love you shit shit GET THE FUCK OUT OF
MY HEAD
Get up. I'm not through with you yet. the girl had crawled under the desk
when we let her off the spit now she was looking up at us. you bastards
the girl was just a come on, wasn't she. a trap. Now we know what you can
do, we can use you. We know how. Who are you freaky guys? We are the
Lords of the Chamber. We catter to your needs. And we provide for your
services. Then the girl, Heather, wasn't a...
a FRIENDLY SPIRIT, don't pay any attention to her. Now come,
there is work to be dohe. Dohe? Don't ask questions. You'll find it a
useless burden. What you have not realized is that you are now
functioning on a higher plain. The torment was just an appetizer. A
little jolt of things to come. They laughed among themselves. The fact
is, you are now Heather. You are a six.
huh?
A six. Size six. All will be known. For instance, this is
Caveat. Hi. Glad to meet you. He's Munchkin's Mayor. Oh? Hi. Glad to
meet you. Curtsy. Yellow Brick Road. Star Gazer. Now you're getting
it. Hi. What a hunk. Of coiurse, he was onl y two feet high. The
Bridge and Tunnel Authority wanted to run a new Gibson under the
Wostertonic. Hanson screamed environmental abuse at her. Have you ever
thought of abusing your congresspisson? That's what therey're there for.
So the folks back ho me will have a walking punch toy to take their
jollies out on free. Congressional Abuse is not a crime. That's why you
need nuclear assistants. To satisfy the voters. They took her down into
the new tunnels. And plugged her in. Cody was crawling with congress.
It was a terminal disease.
Does she have type a or type b.
It starts as an intestinal virus and eats its way out into the
cloakroom. Will the member yield?
I am not Heather and I am not a six. Oh, why fight it? I'll be
whatever they want. As long as they don't make me be Reagan. I'm serial
braindead anyway. Everything's burnt out. God, they fucking took
everything. Why? For god's sake? Except Strom . They ev3en took his
pan. Molocks. They don't tell you. About the molocks. They live in the
basement of the Longworth. And venture out at night to steal things.
They think are of value. they take everything. They roam in bands. Not
just here. But everywhere. Over at Treasury. The war room. Even the
FBI is not immune from a visit of these furry creatures. Once they were
almost human, but they lost the election and now they have degenerated
over the centuries into vile simian representations
of mankind. Strom had peeed all over the floor. They even took his
toupee. Jesus is he ugly. The biggest stud in the capital. and we have
him right here. Come and get him, suckers.
I made a lot of money
they came in here on their hands and iknees begging
Jews and genitrals. the secretary of war
I am the keeper of the key.
God, almighty, what a hanger.
I managed to find a bucket to hang under the chair
and then I cleaned him up a bit
I got myself decked out in a french maid's outfit
and pranced around while they diddled the old guy
there's a lot to be said for starting a war.
Like any day now, south america is going to be a memory
Keep the wars above the belt
Why is that?
That we have never had a war with South America or Africa?
It's not feasible.
A real war has to matter.
So in other words, we get to kick the shit out of Germany again. Is there
any other way? No. The germans must be taught a lesson.
let's negotiate.
fuck neotiation. We are dealing with traiters.
send him back where he came from
return and serve
wham
immigration is a lost art.
you've got to know how to come into a country
just like you have to know how to fuck a beautiful woman
like a pig
nicht wahr, schatzi?
Of course, all that saber rattling was just a pose.
No other country in Europe was worth the trouble.
Only the Germans could put up a decent fight/
Those guys wore their women like uniforms.
Slice and dice
Kill a Ratzi, free a woman.
For a split second, you could have her or you could die.
the trick was knowing which to pick. Like that Indian. Back there on the
prairie
She glimmered there in the torch light,
flickering on the blade as it sliced her open
Or you could pause
and you would die
It was less than a nanosecond to take back your pride
and l;et yourself launch. This is the launch. Be careful. Stand back.
I'm only showing you. Before you vote you launch. I have never voted.
That is why I can tell you this. To be a vote virgin was a high order of
being. I can tell you. So listen to me. I'm not just channel surfing.
I am totally wired. I am oh shut up. I seemed to have gotten the
message. I was at the edge. The very edge of civilization. And I could
take a step or I could hold back. It was up to me. I waited. A wise dec
ision. Biut how did I know I had made a wise decision? Was it an inner
voice, or something I had made up? I waited. Maybe that wasn't so smart.
Now you're in trouble. Get moving.
All systems are go.
It's totally non virtual, you know?
uh, no.
As a freshman, you will be expected to channel at least two hours
a week. Work it out with the committee members. So your schedules don't
overlap. People, we're spread very thin here. Can I have your attention?
Now focus. I'm telling you how to tur n this handle to get a good flush.
As opposed to the chamber pots where you have to empty them yourself. Get
used to it. This is not a kindergarten. You have to learn how to handle
your shit. No one else is going to do it for you. Listen up, people.
This is non-virtual. Planet earth, calling Ninga Hurtles. We need the
Mexican demographics. Can we fit a nuclear test site in here behind the
bleachers? That part of Chicago is a black hole anyway. We have some
supernerds from backhome in the pantr y, Suzie. Could you see to them?
Pose. We'll change the faces in the computer. Dolecups, you know which
one is Cody? Show it to them. No way. He's out of here. It's only
until they sell the apartment. Do it as a favor. He needs the money.
Liddy cut him off. She has total power of attorney. Yes. I thought you
knew. That's why we ran him. As a front for her. You just missed it.
You should see what Hyper Reality is like. Come on,. I'll show you.
Take her up. Going up. This is the tokp of the capital rotunda, Cody.
Now pay attention. This is the only known route still open to the other
chamber. All else has been sealed off. Yes. It is a narrow beam, and it
is four hundred feet to the marble floor below. And you are wearing very
hi gh heeled pumps. And your hands are all you have for balance. And of
course, your adorable knockers. One on either side of the chasm. At the
midpoint, theere is a small platform from which you can look down. And a
narrow walkway around the partition dividing it. It is called the
purgatorio.
There, your wrists will be tied behind you, and you will be
permitted to go on alone. But your leash will have been taken off. Lose
one. Gain one. He handed her the knife. You decide.
Abpve tje plat\form is the rotunda itself. Only here can you
appreciate the celestial firmament above one. As well as the chasm that
yawns underneath. The platform is not stable. It is very delicate and
moves in the cross winds that the rotunda gener ates. There is a booming
in the ears. Like it's talking to you. I'm scared. These stairs lead to
the cupula. But we'll save that for another day.
She would have to come up here alone to climb the steps to the
high alter. We only went there on feast days. The blood would drip from
the ceiling and fall on the platform. Some of it found its way all the
way to the floor below. The congressmen met on the balcony around the
rotunda and sang praises as the virgin died. A few ventured out onto the
platform to drink the holy blood. Occasionally one fell. But not today.
This was just orientation. We went back down. I had seen enough.
Okay. If that's the only way back and forth, how the hell did
they get Strom here?
Strom goes back and forth all the time. Strom can toe dance
across the abyss. He can do it with his eyes closed and blind drunk. On
a pogo stick. Strom is a living master. He could even take you across on
his back. Work with him. See what happens.
You only know you're alive when you're up there on the high wire
doing a balancing act with the nation's budget; then it gets really sexy.
Like who does it and who doesn't. Strom uses the platform for an
outhouse. The people below drink his piss. He's a master. Listen to
him. In reality, there is no beam. Only the wire. 357.62 m. of ribbon
wire. Stretched r azor tight. Don Strom trickled into his pan. He was
sitting there with his hands on his knees, talking to me. I talked back
to him. I told him about Susan Smith. Then I realized I was Susan Smith.
He didn't seem to care. I began to think, why would anyone in their right
mind vote for this old r elic of another era. I began to look at him.
What was his existence telling us? About South Carolina? About the
universe? I didn't know anything about him except he was old and he peed
in a pan. And I couldn't get my mother away from him. Ma, I sai d, he's
five thousand yars old. What are we going to do with him? "Take him to
the movies. Let him see what the world has changed since he was born."
They went to see Braveheart. Now he insists we have to catch Scotland in
the arms race.
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