graphics mode c r o s s X c o n n e c t previous | next

| main page
| issue contents
| contributors
| e-mail us
   d o w n    a t    c l u b    l i m b o,    d a n c i n g    o n    h i s t o r y 's    u n m a r k e d    g r a v e    o f    d i s c a r d e d    l i e s

--- J E F F   M C C A L L

          i'm sitting in my office trying to steal a jingle for Ford Trucks from Bob Dylan mp3s when I hear Rudy in the other room tell Margo that a plane just hit the World Trade Center. then another plane crashed into it, and then a third. someone's calling bomb threats into the White House and the Pentagon is on fire. No one can get in or out. suicide car bombers in Washington. the country is under attack. and from the back of my stomach a feeling I know i'm going to have to get used to is beginning to seep in- everything is not going to be ok.
          but I was wrong, everything is fine. everything is just fine...
          it's January now and everything is just peachy.          
          America is dropping the tons
          the Taliban is on the run,
          hey this War thing's kinda fun,
          'The Ultimate Evil's Day is Done!'
          the world must be safe for the Pentagon Sons
          and triple beef patties on buttered buns...
          can a WAR on TERRORISM ever really be WON?
          Will AMERICA Have it's DAY in the SUN?
                    And if it does
                    will it be
                    the America
                    that's We
                    the People
                    and not
                    the tools
                    of corporate money?

they sent us home, so I walked home simply stunned by what a gorgeous, cool blue day it was. squirrels feasting on Cheetos from the garbage behind Wawa... traffic cops getting dancy for they're own entertainment at the crux of four lanes going to one due to new construction- Tangled up in Trucks- honks of gaseaters effervescing real invisible bubbles up to the big clear blue round, emissions wavy to and through this thing that looks like nothing, save
          a lonely wisp of cloud hung midway in the sky...
          and nature didn't seem to mind
          6 thousand people just died.

television, however, minded very much.
          -this thing was MasterMinded....and not on a Monday, but a Tuesday- has anyone noticed the lack of Arab democracies?  -covered in soot, from head to toe, he just couldn't- hHuge network of international terrorist hharbored by rogue- Cowardly Fearmongering Freedom Hating, but not that people should Hate the Islamic doctrine, for what it's worth, it's Evil People We're- Full Of Gas, see? the planes were going cross country! flying bombs! like man guided- Trust in the American people to support a Full Mobilization to Free the nations of the world from Terrorism and Evil in all it's- newly proposed Office of HomeLand Security, which will be headed up by our own Governor, Tom Ridge, who has a long history of serving justice and rooting out- Dan Quayle, who is here with us tonight all the way from- hell yeah I'm enlisting, it's the Right thing for a Responsible- duck and cover might have been a joke yesterday, but experts say may prove that going back to the Old Ways, could possibly provide safety from- a loss of control for our Way of Life, and a werld unnfferrling into uh TOtally Feevered and candy colored chaos...
          for nearly the whole week after the attack FOXNews runs without commercials under the banner "AMERICA UNITED". Phepherd Phmiff kept saying (Phepherd "for Unbiased Reporting, Turn to FOXNews, and FOXNewsdotcom" Phmiff) over and over, "We Know the psychology of people, and We Know how people are going to react, wouldn't you say doctor? -- and We Know that the grieving period for this sort of tragedy is about, what would you say, about...24, to maybe 38, perhaps, maybe even 72, but We Know that then, after the grieving period there is a prolonged feeling of ABSOLUTE RAGE. would you say this is generally The Correct Thinking on this doctor?--"  
          Dr. Expert- "well, yes, Phepherd, i'd have to agree-"
          Phepherd- "and we can expect, from what We Know is proven, that when the period of mourning is over, say, 48 hours, then the rage sets in, and who then can we turn that anger against?  for an answer to this we turn now to our expert on the Middle East, a picture of Osama Bin Laden holding a gun. Picture of Osama, it's a pleasure to have you on the show... can you give our viewers tonight, some insight, into the nature of the terrorist mind?
          Osama: well Phep, I'm just insane with rage and there's no rational explanation for it. I hate all things Western and Un-Islamic and want to impose my view point over the infidels over all the world, but mainly I just want jet skis.
          Phepherd: jet skis?
          Osama: and your women too, of course... but even more than your women, I want your wave-runners. they look like so much fun. ...have you ever tried one?  
          Phepherd: yeah, we have a couple at the beach house at the Vineyard, they're a blast.
          Osama: they look like fun, but as Allah forbids empty western pleasures, and... since we couldn't find a lake front cave in all of Afghanistan, I will never Jet-Ski. If I lived in America, my millions could get me a little place somewhere, a ranch maybe, and i'd have jet skis... and a rifle range... but it is my fate to never feel the cool lake spray through my course and sandy beard, so Look Out Holy Momma- Here Come The USAMA!
          Phep: Well, folks, you've seen it there for yourselves: the face of Evil Itself- religious zealots willing to die for their False God. the American Consumers, who's cause is JusT, are now asking themselves- what am I willing to die for?  what does it mean to be a Citizen? Tune into the National Cathedral at 7 oclock to hear Republicans and Democrats join together in a chorus of "God Bless America" on the steps of the Capitol in a bi-partisian song to show that the two parties have come together to form ONE United Front for War Against Terrorism!
          later... a story of True Patriotism, where the younger brother, Todd(not real name), enlisted to join his brother in their call to Duty. Older Brother Charley has two kids and his wife is scared to death. -so, you don't want them to go?, asks the reporter... -Absolutely Not! It's ridiculous...i can't believe this is all happening, it's just surreal, she says, burping baby #3. But Older Brother Charley gives his brother a loving Noogie and says, he's Proud that his little brother's coming with him. -we've got to make the world safe, and get rid of these terrorist people for our children. And we've got to get them where they Grow.
          little brother Todd: well, it's not just following my brother as much as this is A Cause I can believe in and get behind, I mean, it's something Real... and I just feel like i've got to be a part of something this Big and Important.
          News8Brad: we can only Hope this kind of Patriotism is contagious, right Tonya?
          News8Tonya: I think maybe you're contagious, Brad [grinning fiendishly].
          News8Brad: Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha [also grinning fiendishly].
          News8Tonya:  Ha HA HA HA, ahh, we like to make it fun on the Morning show, and in the spirit of fun, we have Dick Cheney on satellite link from an undisclosed location in Maui to read a little, um, poetry?
          Dick: Yo Yo Yo i'm Granmaster-D kickin it Old school on the beach stormin tip here to spit some bullshit rhymes all the time sublime in the Air-Force Deuce! [on the monitor from a luau in Maui sporting purple velvet pimp hat with a big red feather, some heavy gold chains and a royal Dalmatian coat (a little warm for the beach, some thought) chugging boat drinks, a camera follows him leading a congo line around a fire pit pig bbq and rapping into a wireless mic]
          YO YO YO YO! I'm DICK the ViP- the VEE!I!PEE!
          jus chillin out the Vice Presidency
          as far from you as I can be
          cuz you might get bombed, suckas!
          when I was back running
          my oil company
          All the fine ladies
          Wantin to bump witme
          even though I was fat and bald
          you gotta respect the Bejamins... [fanning out handfulls of hundreds]
          now I gotta keep       shit
                               on the D-L
          lookin at my books           go
                                    wouldn't        well
          cuz I'm just hiding out- as far as you know
          but but really i'm back here running the show from my
                                                                      Bunker- Under
                                                                                with walls and towers
                                                                                girdled round
                                                                                Blow up a nuke-
                                                                                it won't make no sound
                                                                                while i'm watching me

          so Unfurl the Flags!
          release the sequined hags!
          the tagged and bagged in Polo rags
          without no change to spare-
          We'll keep the oil for the Rightful Heirs.
          and Everyone Against US better Beware-
          Here Comes Brand Name Justice!

i called my mother, who said she didn't want to talk about it, that there was just too much else to worry about, that I couldn't know, that there's just too much going on here and why couldn't I just get behind my country. "I just hate what that school's done to you. you never used to say the awful things you say now. you never used to be such a liberal. you call that education?  Hating your country?  I can't believe you've said the terrible things you've said in your emails. don't email me anymore, please, because I just can't take it. all your generation just never has had the kind of Pride in Your Country that you're Supposed to Have, that you should feel a connection to your people and what you commonly believe-
          -what? that we support the killing of more innocent people?
          -No matter what you say, you won't change my mind. The American people are decent people, and I don't think President Bush has any choice but to go after these, these Scumbags who think they can get away will killing 6,000 decent citizens- did you know that we gave them, gave the Afghanis- a whole bunch of money to build a stadium... an athletic stadium... and they use it to massacre their own people? they just slaughter them all the time, and starve them- don't give them anything to eat- women, children, and you know, you won't agree with me i'm sure, but there's no other way to react to these people that to show them Resolve. there world has to be made a safe place for decent people.
          -do you think God is on our side?
          -I should hope so.
          -and it's God's will that we should invade Afghanistan?
          -I don't want to talk to you about this. you just don't understand. I drink pepto bismol every day. no one is buying houses and the market isn't going to turn around. the economy is grinding to a halt and your father and I work on commission, so there's just no... just no... no guarantees about how life's going to turn out... you'll understand this when you get a little older. you'll have to, you'll see... I was alive during the Vietnam War and.. I was against it, then... because those are the kindof beliefs that you're supposed to have when you're that age, but you'll see, when you get to my age you understand...sometimes you just have to show Resolve.
          -What do you mean by 'Resolve'?
          -Oh don't Start that Shit. They've got to do something... what do you expect them to do? Nothing?
          -Not Them. Us. What are We Going to do?
          -We Can't Do Nothing. Terrorism Must be stopped! We can't let those people think they can just go around killing American Citizens!
          -and by what means should we get vengeance?
          -I told you I don't want to talk about this and I meant it. you'll never change my mind. maybe when you're a bit older, come talk to me then. I've seen America in Good Times and Bad, and everything is going to be just have to have faith in your Country and your Leaders. You're So Cynical at such a young age, I don't envy you at all...someone who can only be Negative about life- Negative about the country You Were Born In. You Were Lucky to Be Born in America, and It's About Damn Time You Showed Some Respect For the Freedoms You've Been Given. I raised you to be a different person than you turned out to be. I don't know how it happened, but something got a hold of you and you've just not the person you were five years ago. I don't know who you are anymore, because the boy that I raised to believe he was born in good country would never have said the things you said. we can't talk about this ever again. we will never agree and I can't take it anymore...i'm sorry you Hate So Much, but I did all I could with you...
          -I don't hate anyone, that's-
          -Anyone Except Your Country! No more talking about this. I have to go. i'm sorry you're so cynical. i'm sorry you feel so wronged. i'm sorry you're so disillusioned, but that's the life you choose and you have to live with it...

there's the street, merely 20 feet away and trembling beside the cold buildings and rotten carcass of a parking garages, lights on every floor... cars, trucks, fantasies by the window... meat products, aromas of beefkabob, beerswilling college boys cheering in the night... everything burning gas... I'm burning gas that comes from the ground and the whole process is totally inconceivable to me- but it fills my world with wonders- Vehicles Whsizing, lovelyshwishhh, and not to mention the pilot and the radiator and all the warmersteams of upwafting civilization in winter- where would we be? I, Philly, without these buildings and their armaments against the cold and freezing winds only infinite millimeters from your insulation,... good on ya, he said, dying of a heart attack there on his lawnmower- ood on ya!, keeled over dead... that's the day becky learned to hit from the red tees...
          get minuscule, smallful, Titusrung, neorealinotwithstandingheatingcosts alone- WE must get-- GAS, and ever and ever more of it until it's all GONE. Jack Welch, former Ceo of GE, tells a room full of future CEOs to invest in energy. He knows that our ever expanding corporate strangle on the world NEEDS ENERGY. He also knows that getting the "Right People" Into the "Right Positions" is a key to controlling the country. he knows that moving products around the globe is wasting oil at rate that's going to dry up the world's supply within 100 years- The Supply Will Inevitably Dry up and be gone forever anyway- an Unavoidable Truth that Americans don't deal with well...
          the great fish encapsulation sealsland a great many and washes forth a sea of frothy ruined in silver and gold.  sigh in the middle of the night... don't take it for granted... bawk at the appearance of phantom cars that appear and disperse in a poofpuff of whiff by the window forgotten before they even happen. if you can't imagine an America without cars it's only because you can't look far enough. you must at least be able to see an American highways and city streets rid of the oil torching Hubris PODS rotting in ditches empty and burned out amongst the rubble and flowers- we laugh and dance the laugh and dance of the ones who see that this "civilization" is Unsustainable, and wish it good luck, knowing not what horrible final force it will take it to rein in the Masters's needs for death and dismemberment and our silent participation?   they've got us too sad and tired to care anymore... don't fall for the scam industry of despair... depression is constructed and functional. the forces of evil are actively lobbing pill missiles from cruise ships. the final act of cowardliness and domination of the world begins when we put missiles in space... and guess what??  

-and He doeth great wonders so that he make fire come down from the heaven on earth in the sight of men, And decieveth them that dwell on the earth by means of those miracles which he had power to do in the sight of the beast; saying to them that dwell on the earth, that they should make an Image to the beast, which had the wound by a sword, and did live. And he had power to give life unto the Image of the beast, that the beast should both Speak, and cause that as many as would not worship the Image of the beast should be killed. (Revelations 13:13)

          The problem is not so much that the Pentagon is building a weapon system to surround the globe, but rather that many people feel this is a good idea- Boys down at the War Room are calling it "Full Spectrum Dominance". Chapter 2 of the "The Vision for 2020", (document available in full at looked it up at work)) says, "The Vision looks 25 years into the future and may be summed up in one sentence: "A globally integrated aerospace force providing continuous deterrence and prompt engagement for America and its allies ... through control and exploitation of space and information."
          in a plan where they gloat about "the ability to hold terrestrial targets at risk"  and the inherent advantage of filling space with Our Satellites first, because they can fly weapons over any country without any sovereignty or border issues and whatnot... they uh, "expect this advantage to persist..."- because once you're there you can dictate who else gets to launch satellites- who else gets to broadcast news and information- this is the Imperial Eagle- the ultimate predator of the earth- able to engage targets in "near real time" and hinting at "high-energy weaponry"- cheer all you want for this, but as CCR sang-
"when the band plays 'Hail to the Chief',
they point the cannon at- you!"

always from behind the window... behind the bars, always outlooking at outlooking cars. driving in the dreams of others, walking about in the gardens of other's minds, looking for eggplant. nothing quite does it like mastercard, am iRIGHT folks?
          the drug addled must learn that the ordinary is extraordinary on it's own terms, and the non-drug addled need to learn that clouds are breathing. just as it is as it allsways wuz...does he need sleep or recuperation? something tells this bloke to go for broke and not make a joke of his unspoken hope-  all the cars, over and over, over and over, all the time cars, all night and every day cars, and don't say that's the way it's always been cuz thats bullshit. this is the PRESENT, and as The Present Decides to give us certain pleasures of eternity, wiffs, puffs, bodies smeard with it and the sad violins laughing, singing, at least one happy soul alone in the vibrating city night of sound and light- brain gun fired brain after brain over the castle wall to splatter googlysmoosh in the moat... goodnight cat, goodnight kittens, goodnight mittens and bowl of mush, old lady Rabbit whispering hush- goodnight moon and the red balloon, good night my friends, goodnight...

          night after night in my dreams I'm back at my desk watching amateur news shots I downloaded off the internet. One Angle- filming firemen standing around a street grate. when the shot begins, they're all just standing around doing absolutely nothing watching one fireman fiddle with the street grate with some kinda metal stick, when they all hear this big engine thing flying over- is that a plane? they all look up and around, kindof confused, then the camera turns directly to the WTC and boom, guy screams "holy shit!", flames, falling rubble, people running...
          another angle: someone filming the WTC for no apparent reason what-so-ever when an airplane appears from the left side of the screen and then disappears behind the tower. this guy at the bottom of the screen, who's eating a sandwich on butcher paper opened up on the roof of his car, when he hears this big boom and is almost slightly startled. then he turns around and looks and nearly shits himself, drops his sandwich even.
          these tapes kept running over and over, and each time they'd be a little different. how many firemen in that last shot? which one was talking to a walkie talkie? which one had the stick? who looked up first? what kind of sandwich was it?  this time the airplane appears from the right and explodes into the tower. this time the guy screams, "Muuuuther Fuuuucker!",
the flames are the same, and the rubble still falls and the people are still running, but each time the tapes are played it's getting closer and i'm not at my desk. i've been sucked into my monitor while imminent destruction is on "Pause" and we're flying over it in a satellite from space, zooming in from miles above to the tiny cogs of the circutboard cityscape. you're the satellite wandering in orbit only able to watch and see nothing human but points of movements and termination on a grid. you're a 4 Star General who only ever even cracks a grin while watching combat in real time from outer space. you speak of kill ratios and daisy cutters and noiseless entry and collateral damage death of real sons and daughters and mothers and fathers without flinching- without even the slightest hint of emotion to your buddies who all nod and agree because they too are psychotic or too weak to speak against your psychosis.
and lately in the land of democracy,
you've acquired the psycho's grin.
tailoring the bloodlust neckties of a conqueror,
weenee vidi WIN!
You stand ready to brand your "Good" on the People all over the World-
but 'United We Stand'
from the lips of an oil man
comes with a plan
to burn the planet's gas as fast as we can
misunderstanding or
overlooking the absolute finiteness of fossil fuels
or not caring,
which is easiest and most cowardly of
and has
nothing to do with
what comes after you
and the effects of the life you leave behind,
but the effects of the life you live presently in-between words, or
ontopofwords, orgroundrounddowntomean words, werd terds, for Terds iz
Werds dear friends ...pukeup everything on the hotel room floor, leave
the mess for the Maid.
another sweat drunk heathen night gone home without no laid,
the girl only wants to know, "how much do you get paid?", monstrously
afraid you'll love
how long can she, America, hold back unsingable suffering- noiseless
thrashing about on a bed of feathers and fondue forks,
Auld Land Syne and champagne corks,
DiPhallactic DemonFuck for the false Profit "Progress" and even still at
this late date- GOD and DUTY to the Onward ImperiMall Urges tward
invitations to whore as Thor,
learn to kill in the Gay ol Core,
fight a War for the Country's Store
in a dream of meat without end.

...Axel's telling me a story about a young shaman that he read about in some book he doesn't remember, but "relates to the things that help us deal with it...
          "this apprentice shaman gets all jammed up on Petyote and has this vision that he's falling into a deep dark chasm- a pit without end into total darkness- and he's Afraid- I mean, he's falling into Nothingness Forever- and you can't be afraid of Nothing- but still, he's Afraid- follow me now, so his fears take Shape- Fills the Nothing- maybe sink into features of the surroundings- Become Things. Now he's on a beach- he thinks he's been closing his eyes all this time and all this is in his head, but he opens his eyes and he really IS on this beach at like Midnight- everything Pitch Black- even the sand- and that's how he could tell he was on a beach- he could feel the sand and hear the water and see them barely- He's still too afraid to totally open his eyes- I mean, this kid had no idea what he was getting into, right?  This Old Indian dude chanting some stuff, and giving him all these drugs, telling him to close his eye and fall in, well... now what? He's opened his eyes and he's on this beach and feels- Feels it in the Unexplainable way of dreams that this is the place of Ultimate Fear- can even see it in the shadows seeping upwards from the sand like oily water through the air- I mean- He's gone to the Place of All Fears in the Soul- where Raw Fear is Produced- and that's too far for an apprentice of his level- Too Difficult to remain intact and not Panic and Lose his Shit forever you know- you gotta be careful you go mucking about with the soul- anyway, he's overcome with Terror and starts screaming and there's no echo- No sound- no breath- No Air- it's like he's suffocating but not breathing at all on the edge of dying- (He finds out the next day from the Old Shaman that during this period of the trip he was writhing around on the floor choking himself with his own hands)- so Then from the ocean comes this ship- this big black Spanish Galleon coming in slow and low like midnight itself- like a magnet for all the fears- pulling the air into it's hull and spewing it out poisonlike and just evil- it was Pure Fear - and The Terror got to him- it was too much to bear and the apprentice is wailing nothing outloud to nothing and watching this movie reel of horrors going through his brain until the various visions of failures and mutilations of the spirit are clogged into one pill that he's swallowing constantly and choking up there on Fear Beach- and with all his fears amplified and knotted he feels lonely- wretched unloved loneliness aching in all his bones- the fear that he is trapped, alone behind those same two eyes forever, disconnected from everything...he's so terrified that the Terror itself reaches the breaking point inside him and he opens his eyes to the long dark scowl of a pterodactyl, spreading it's wings and sqWaawaking like crazy- as if things weren't bad enough, right?- he sees that things are coming off the boat- all these pterodactyl Lizard things- all Filing off like soldiers and lining up on the shore- and the apprentice is terrified and screaming- who are you? what do you want?- and they answer him in thoughts- speak right into his Brain- say that they're a species of Reptile from another planet that's come to rule Earth. well this apprentice just can't deal and freaks out and starts running- he go in way too far too fast- and the pterodactyls are flying  after him, pecking him in the head the whole time shrieking- We'll RULE THE EARTH!! WE'LL RULE THE UNIVERSE!!! (raising his arms and flapping around the room)
          -anyway... (Axel pauses for a sip of coffee)... next day, apprentice wakes up from his vision to find that the fears never resolved themselves- that these forces he found within himself that claim extraterrestrial origin and say they want to dominate the earth hadn't really settled themselves, so he tells the Old Shaman about his vision and describes all the fears- the beach where even the air and sand was permeated with pure fear- and the boat where all the Lizard Bird thingys got out and how he was overcome with terror- and he's telling all this to the old guy, but he's not, you know, feeling any sympathy, you know- the Old dude is just sitting there smiling, and the apprentice gets pissy and yells at him- "EVIL LIZARDS within My OWN Soul Told Me They WANT TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!!- and the Old Shaman just laughs- laughs and laughs, laughs out "That's what they always say!"

          home for the holidays in the eternal sports bar talking to people I hadn't seen since highschool and didn't remember anyway. televisions everywhere all totally silent but creeping like scattered campfires at the upper edges and pretty much everywhere you could look. i'm talking to a kinda husky-but-cute-and-could-probably-lose-that-weight-if-she-wasn't-chain-smoking blonde girl, who feels that "thu reaal tragedy of Sept eleventh was that most of those people who were killed probably weren't saved by Christ and went to Hell- don'tchoo think? Cause most of them people in New York are atheists, right? Is it the same in Philadelthia?"
          "no, actually...not everyone in New York is an atheist. not everyone in Texas is a Christian-"          
          "and That's the Problem!"
the last night of the Republican National Convention and all the main elevators are jammed as the Politicos left their parties with escorts, and the service elevators weren't moving as a security measure. I was working as a Production Assistant for Fox News. it was pouring rain outside and I'd purloined a cooler full of assorted beers from Trent Lott's Skybox party right after Bush's inauguration address and was trying to get it down to the golf cart before they towed it. the Secret Service had the stairwells closed off, so I had to wait for the elevator. this guy Leon, who was taking the leftover food downstairs- baguettes, dips, little blocks of cheese, several untouched shrimp cocktails smushed by stacks of plates squirting marinara sauce to run down the white table cloth. Leon was jumpshotting shrimp into the garbage can across the room to waste time, saying, "I tell you what, man... these people Can PARTY. I mean, GOD DAMN!, when they Throw Down, They ThROW Down!  I mean, I like to drink just as much as the next guy, right?  but these country club folk, I don't know...girls got they furs and they jewelry, and everybody laughin and drinkin they martinis. and i'm supposed to throw out all this food, and I can't find one goddamn bottle with a drop oliquor left in this whole bildn. they took it ALL, man... they took it all...

          And Now, to the ominous everpresent facSICSCImo, that couped from inside... who knew it could happen here? scenes of Afghanistan on the news show a nation on Fire. people being beaten with sticks and buildings being burned in the background. Bush in an American Flag Turban reading his speech on tv.
          i'm over at my friend Axel's house. Axel manages a real estate office for Slum Lords. they give loans to anyone to buy houses, he tells me, "no matter what their credit history, if they have a decent sum to put up front, we'll take it, put you in a deathtrap and soak you for whatever wages you can pull together- and you'll never have enough to make significant payments, like, to Buy, like they said in the Ad...but at $42,000 at 13%, you stand quite clearly Under the Thumb. when you can't pay, we evict you and sell the debt to a credit agency for .80 on the $1.00. and that's like releasing the hounds. imagine hundreds of robots programmed to bother you night and day until they get their money. these companies are Re-Lent-Less. they want their money. they don't see it as your money- they've already purchased the debt- it's Their money and they're going to get their money, or they'll ruin you. it's the only thing they do. they don't produce anything. all their business is living off people's debt. our company takes the loss, but keeps the house, and just sets up the next cash batteries with the same loan at 13% and it all happens again. these are numbers that never really translate into real cash, ya know- but only to be a sum that people always have to keep earning towards like, you know, the carrot and the donkey."  
          Turbaned Bush reading from the TelePrompTer: This is Civilization's Fight. This is the Fight of All who believe in Progress and Pluralism, Tolerance and Freedom!
          Axel: it's wage slavery. no one ever talks about the fact that the abolitionists who opposed slavery in the South also opposed wage slavery of corporations in the North. it's clear who's behind the money in this country- I mean- how does an honest to God aristocracy arise in the midst of America and no one ever notices?  I mean a true aristocracy with Patrilineal succession of power- how else do we have political families like the Kennedys and the Bush's and Colin Powel's son running the FCC?
          Georgie: We will ask, and we will Need the help of Police Forces, Intelligence Services, and Banking Systems around the World.
          Axel: lemme ask you this question- the Fed funds banks right? gives banks money, regulates the flow... well who gives money to the Fed?  The Fed has to go to Private Investors to get the money they give to banks. Private Investors. and you can't find out who those investors are.
          Georgius the II: I ask for your continued participation and confidence in the American economy. Terrorists attacked a symbol of American Prosperity. They did not touch it's source.
          Axel: I was reading this book about the illuminati and you know... the guy had some interesting points. he said that the illumniati want to use up all the world's oil to speed up the process of global warming because they're all actually reptiles. if you look at Bush closely, his tongue seems to have a prosthetic slice to hide the fork. it's only a slight discoloration- look, there, you can kinda see it...the point was that they are the illuminati and they've got the money and the want the New World Order.
          Hyno-Eyes BUSH, w/prosthetically corked fork: Americans should not expect one battle, but A LllllEeeeeNGTHYyy CAMPAIGN, unlike any other we have sssseen.
          Axel: You've seen that stuff on the back of the dollar bill, the one eyed pyramid and all that stuff in Latin- all the Forefathers of this Country were Masons. Check out the coins-
          Shrub: ...dramatic strikes, visible on television, and covert operations-
          Axel: line up a quarter, nickel, dime and penny all with the heads rolled around, you know, the same way.
          Busch, Head for the Mountains of: Every nation, in every region, no has a decision to make...
          Axel: what do you notice right off- all the silver coins have heads facing left and the penny is facing right, right?  why is that?
          Butch: starve Terrorists of Funding, turn them on against each other, drive them from place to place, until there is no refuge or no rest.
          Axel: because Washington, Jefferson and FDR were all Masons... guess who's not a Mason- Lincoln, who also freed the slaves. they're really on the side of all the silver coins against the One Brown one that symbolically and literally means the least.
          CEO, USA Corp.: Every Nation, in every region, now has a decision to make. Either you are with us or you are with the Terrorists. From this day forward-
          Axel: no one ever wonders about Who Designed the money... we just take it for granted- but this is stuff that someone put alot of thought into how they could make is just like they wanted. these decisions aren't arbitrary. they happen because someone has desired effects in mind-
          THE W: dozens of Federal Departments and Agencies, as well as State and local governments, have a Responsibility affecting Homeland Security. These efforts must be coordinated at the highest level- SO tonight I announce the creation of a Cabinet-level position reporting directly to me- the office of Homeland Security.
          Axel: and the Republicans hold up Lincoln as Their Guy without any sense of irony-
          Talking Sandwich[with olive eyes and stabbed by toothpicks]: as a Threat to our Way of Wife is to Stop it, Eliminate it, and Destroy it where it Grows!
          Axel: He's not even a good puppet- I mean, don't you they wish they could've gotten somebody to read the cards right, but that's an aristocracy for ya- the leisure class that's existed since civilization's began.
          The Fear of being Eaten by a Sandwich flapping lips of Bologna: By sacrificing human life to serve their radical visions -- by abandoning every value except the Will to Power -- they follow in the path of Fascism and Nazism and Totalitarianism. And they will follow that path all the way to where it ends: in history's unmarked grave of discarded lies!
          Axel: did you ever hear about what happened in South Africa. did you ever think about what's happened in South Africa for the last 100 years?  do you know why it was colonized to begin with?  to get the diamonds. the  Diamond Interests Went in, Debeers, you know, the commercial that's all silhouettes to Debeers, the composer? well they have the largest share in the Mines there and the government set up Martial Law and put everyone to work on Mining the Diamonds. Mandela tried to fight it and they put him in jail, kept Martial Law and Apartheid going for the last 30 years, and then what happened- they said- ok, it's a happy country again, Mandela's out of jail and he's elected Democratically- and all the diamonds, gone. they took all the diamonds and said, ok, you can have your country back now. chalk one up for the age of Liberty, triumph of Democracy and all that... thanks for the rocks, and enjoy Coke, we're going back to Belgium, or wherever -but see, who were these people that did that?- you can't know who's the money behind these operations, but this is a clearly designed and implemented plan to hijack a country, rape and pillage for as long as they possibly could, which, in this case, was 30 something years, so, with actual slave labor, they were able to be careful and take their time getting everything. and where was the United State's Humanitarian Intervention then? they did it all with our support. we backed them the whole way. the same way we've supported Israel's political assassinations- we give them the helicopters with missiles to shoot into cars or apartment buildings, or whateverthefuckallthey decide to do with it-   you've seen the pictures: Israeli tanks driving down the street at a bunch of little kids throwing rocks. these people have ROCKS for christsake. and the Israelis are armed to the fucking teeth with all this stuff they had to scratch the American Logo off there, ya know? eye for an eye, those people don't fuck around. over there, you turn 18 and Bam: here's you gun, gotta keep the Holy Land going.... when I was a little kid, I remember this, I asked my mom why the people over there were fighting, and she told me (doing the voice)'that's just the way they are, honey. it's just for religious reasons that go back thousands of years and we'll never know why'... and so, I always thought those places had been there for thousands of years, fighting the whole time. now come to find out that the Israel is a country the British put there in 1948 to create the Jewish Nation State after WWII. what?  before that it was just called Palestine, all of it...and, ofcourse, predominantly Muslim, but everyone was getting along at least. do you know what this is? This is the Bush's family Plan to secure the Oil Reserves in the Middle East as a 'favor for future generations'. this is how Oil men think. They can't fucking stand the fact that those Godless Sonsubitches are sitting over there on all that oil. Old George was an Oil Man AND, AND Director of The C I A for nearly the whole cold War...this is the same Agency that arranged for the bombing of a Mosque in Nicaragua- bombed it at a time when ther'd be the most people and 80 people got killed. He Ordered This to Be Done. you know, in hindsight, who do you think was in charge of things when it was Regan-Bush?  how the hell does a guy like Bush ever get elected President anyway. he's not attractive, or charming, or especially witty or interesting... he looks like an old dork. and they played up that whole Wimp thing. don't think the CIA doesn't think of things like this. if everybody thinks he's a Wimp, then you'll never believe he's the only Western leader ever to be convicted of a war crime. it's true, you can look it up. we invaded Nicaragua and killed a bunch of people and they didn't like that very much and took it up with this thing called the World Court, had you ever heard of the World Court?  I hadn't, but, we rejected their decision that it wasn't right to Invade this country and kill all these people...anyway, Bush wants the OIL. he's had plenty of time and plenty of resources at his disposal to set everything up so that this country would go to War in the Middle East to secure the Oil patches. The US doesn't have that much oil left and they know it. Texas is pumped, lets face it, and they'll continue to rape the coastline and the Gulf and all that offshore crude, but that's why Little Georgie wants the Alaskan Wilderness opened up to Oil Companies- we're running out and they want to grab whats left while they still can. ...this has been brewing for a long time, I mean, Rome wasn't-[EVENT]... from the street outside, the scrreech of tires, Thud and crushed glass. Axel hyperventilates and has to find a paper bag, but is still compelled to actually leave his apartment and go see what happened. we go downstairs and outside on the pretext of going to the 7-11 across the street. the crystal quiet night is bathed in the nauseous swirl of siren light as a towtruck pulls a pickup out of a Volkswagen. someone's thrown a rock through the window of 7-11. the people on the sidewalk are all looking at down the street. I can't see what they're looking at and I can't hear a sound.

          Back at work. early meeting and i've had too much coffee and am already sweating. try to make jokes, jot down notes, act like i'm busy... and the meeting hasn't even started...
          in an room overlooking Philadelphia skyline of glass and silver, we convene begrudgingly to plot...
          HeadofMarketingStrategyRudy: ok, clearly, consumers are going are going to be shaken up by this Tragedy- and I think they'll be asking themselves... asking themselves... Philip, what are they asking themselves?
          CopyistPhil: they'll definitely be asking themselves questions... I agree..
          HoMSRudy: but what Kind of questions? America has just been wounded! Livelihoods are at Stake here! what do consumers want??
          [the table of people sit still and eyeing the floor mostly]
          HoMSRudy: I know you all feel remorse for things, and that's good. I think that's perfect- let's talk about it- let's Use those feelings- what's going on with the Disney Project?
          DisneyProjectCaptainGwen: well, Rudy, everyone.. of course, much has been made about the Viagra trends among the passing middle aged baby-boomer demographic, and we're projecting that that trend will hold and more empty-nesters are primed to revitalize sexual roots at Disney World.
          HoMSRudy: Ok, fine, but what do they want- these baby-boomers- what is their inner most desire-
          DPCGwenwhowilljust droneonifyoulether: well the babyboomers grew up in the safety and Jetsonesque 50's in very formative early childhood, but then the experienced the horror of the loss in Vietnam and the blossoming of the Counter-Culture Movement. it was a time of much confusion. their own lives were at stake and they questioned their universities and military institutions. Many Protested the Vietnam War or felt sympathy for the protesters but now feel a guilt about adopting this peacenik stance and blame it for loosing us Vietnam. They mostly made money in the eighties, lost it in the late eighties, and gained it back in the nineties under the inflated sums of the tech-boom, and  have raised children who, incidentally, have responded positively to our 'suburban rebel-teen' models-
          HoMSRudy: that's all well and good Gwen, but what can we sell to them?
          DPCGwen: they want fantasy getaways, mostly, we think... this ties in with Viagra phenomenon that indicates empty-nesters are responding to their sexual urges again and wanting to feel right and comfortable about what they're doing.
          HoMSRudy: anyone talking to the Sportscar People? the lamborghinis and whatnot- if there's dispensable income and a sexual need to spend then that must mean race cars, am I right? did you have more to say?
          DPCGwen: only that the War on Terrorism is an opportunity to market to the babyboomers heavily with WWII type images and virtues, because it responds to their stimuli as children which they want to revisit now as they are beginning to feel the first real signs of aging and fears of death are beginning to surface [out of breath].
          HoMSRudy: ok, ok, now we're getting somewhere- so the Disney Project is going for-
          DPCGwen: the change-of-life-baby seekers- or at least those with disposable income looking for fantastic getaways...
          HoMSRudy: and our angle is that it's our Patriotic Duty to Travel to Disney World- ohMYGOD- Philip, are you writing this down? we'll make Disney World the nation's Touchstone- everyone will come to it- from miles around- all the babyboomers who never grew up will be children again- Rightfully- Yes, Yes, this is going to Sell!! We'll Tell them to be children again- they were the 'First Disney Generation' now come back! ha! they'll eat it up!- Okay, enough Disney, what else do we have? what about Ford- have we a jingle yet? are there words ringing about in some corridor ready to spring forth wealth everlasting to me coffers?   what say we Eustice? what melodious phrases will drive us into tomorrow?
          us: well... [frozen in all the gleams of the boardroom's eyes who all know we haven't any jingles for Ford and just wait to hear the gruesome news- holding smiles so ridiculous that they inoculated themselves to ridicule, like wax potatoes with lips]...I was thinking of something, (kindof pathetically singing) Balls to the Wall, um... Not Gonna Crawl, No, ... um, You're, uh, Sitting Tall Now, uh Answer the Call Now- Ford! (ending with confidence, wanting to bury my head in my hands and weep)
          [hesitation to see how Rudy would react--]
          HoMSRudy[breathing in real deep like and nodding]: ok, ok, I like it, I like it- Balls to Wall, Answer the Call- Ford- Yeah! I LikE! I LIKE! Consumers Will Believe it's Their Duty to Drive Trucks. It's What Being an American is all about- the right to have  larger vehicle than your opponent on the road- WOW- did I just say opponent? Philip, check the tape- I'm having a, wait, it's just gas... no, wait- It is A ViSion- I can see it- Dunebuggies! Armament- Mad Max fantasies- we'll all be wandering through the desert battling it out for the last bit of Oil. it's going to be a big help in the battle if you have a big fuckin terror-mobile, ya know?  are you with me? Philip, are you writing this down? DuneBuggies are the FUTURE! Balls to the Wall- You're Sitting Tall in a..DuneBuggy!- sing it with me people! DuneBuggies! Answer the Call- Dunebuggies! Anyway, Good. let's move then to the Untied We Stand campaign. We gotta move fast on this People-
          Philip: pardon me sir, but the order is for United We Stand, sir...
          HoMSRudy: Philip! You know how much I hate Sir Sandwiches! [stabs him in the hand with a pencil- Philip shrieks in pain, scuttles to clean up his mess]... ok, whoops it is 'UnIted' We Stand- sorry bout that, do you need some tissues?  United makes alot more sense, don't you think?  Untied might say it a little more accurately,  but We'd Need to Stand United, as a Nation, right? I mean, so what's going to unite us?
          DPCGwen: Viagra!
          HoMSRudy: No, no, no... I mean What will Unite a People?  People are only United out of Fear of an Outside threat- which we have, but if the terrorists don't do something else again soon, we'll wear ourselves assholes-out trying to fan the flames of this thing- I mean- I'm thinking something Prolonged, something that would divide America.. something that would Divide America into For and Against- We need to find out who will stick it out to the End- in History's Unmarked Bologna Sandwich- Who's going to...who's going to... Help Eat that Sandwich- who's going to... who's going to...
          us: obey?
          [evidently he'd been speaking to himself b/c the response gives him Pause]
          HoMSRudy: ... obey... who's going to Obey? who's going to Rebel? What do they Obey? against what do they rebel?  Who's in- Who's On board- Who's down for the count, who's come to the Mount- Who's With uS- are any of these sounding off any of you? - Who's Game? Who's Fame? Who's Name is Jane?  I don't know- maybe- Are you Reichdeutch? Reichdeutch! ha! Get that one to the New York Office- the hip scene suffers for  obscurities..... is any of this churning any ideas around?  are you With me here?  Eus, you're squirming there not wanting to say something- what is it? come on, more with obey... talk about Obey.
          us: um... obey, to obey... to obey and not say, I guess..., what... would come out naturally if just you let it... things you   might   say, but choose    to   obey... die inside   maybe, and forget  what   you might  have said...
          [looking at the floor and jus kindof trailing off...]
          HoMSRudy: ok, great... thanks for that, really. Would anyone else care to make some inane ramblings? [completing his joke and then to Eus] Are you on drugs?
          us: no sir.
          HoMSRudy: Philip, get Eustice some drugs- what flavor do you savor?
          us: i'm making a point about information-
          HoMSRudy: there's too much information, yeah, we've heard-
          us: Not that there's too Much information but that the bulk of it is largely unproveable for...well, pretty much everybody- people just accept what tv tells them.
          HoMSRudy: Thank God for that! am I right?
          [some other nervous laughs, i'm feeling ill and talkative]
          us: I mean, there's a trust there and people          have, faith that you're, well.. that... the information is Reality- or at least reflects reality. and I think that, I think that advertising United We Stand when we know that, well, that there are quite a few Americans who don't Stand UnIted, at least in the effort towards the War- I mean- don't we have a responsibility to at least advertise the truth?
          [the was a long silence. a plastic bag, caught in
in-between-building zepherous-upgusts, spirals by the window...]
          HoMSRudy: you're joking right?
          us: No! [slamming fist to the table] I mean, the planet is running out of Oil and i'm doing jingles for trucks-
          HoMSRudy: damnit Eus- I said DuneBuggies Were the Future!
          us: it's all seduction into madness that I swallow Myself and my Soul with Every-
          HoMSRudy: Were you ever called a drama queen? You're just being Alarmist-
          us: Yes- Alarmist! Sound the Alarms! This is Political Propaganda for WAR- for More Terrorism!
          HoMSRudy: for Chissakes, Eus, it's just a fuckin slogan-
          us: A Phrase We'll Plaster everywhere on billboards and in bathroom stalls for Political Machines with their own Agenda- Anti-Democratic! Anti-HUman!
          HoMSRudy [relaxing in his chair and grinning sarcastically]: Are you cracking up?  Wow!  I've always wanted to see someone crack! Please continue...
          us: fuck you!
          HoMSRudy: oh, you want to get fired is it?
          us: fired? I quit [exits left]
          HoMSRudy: Quit?  you can't quit! -  [yelling out the door now, down the hall] you have to at least try to get fired, right? I mean, if we fire you then you get a Benefits Package and Severance!! You're missing the chance to do something really Zany!  come back here and kick me in the Balls! Come Kick Me in the Balls you WUSS! Bite my Pinky oFF- IDARE YOU!! TRIPPILEDOGDAREYOU!!

-remembering always Philip K. Dick's wisdom that finds heroism in tiny refusals, "you can always say no, refuse to participate..."   wanting always to make tiny bigger.. I don't know, I don't know... I leave myself to the first northers of Autumn still tilting the shadows and shedding the trees in slow motion world death, each dying embers whispers the ghosts of Christmas Futures  
          The term Terrorists is expanded to include Terrorist Sympathizers, "Blame-America-Firsters", ACLU Lawyers, PETA activists, you and me. television brings us friends in the Agency, behind the scenes of a benevolent West Wing, tales of an honest Citizen Bush and the Golden Arc of the Covenant in the most effective propaganda mill history has ever known. News Entertainment, Entertainment News, Real Life Dramas, Reality Gameshows is all the rage("That President Bartlett is My Kinda Guy, huh uhc")... Car and Truck ads w/PRIDE.... Conzoliza Rice's One Hour Makeover...and people are beginning to ask themselves "Who Is the Weakest Link?".
          The Weather is fastened to the skies and we have the overnight winter of Infinite Justice. Specialized Forces Infiltrate and Explode, the Taliban is already old news, The Age Of Global Liberty- must Smoke them out of Their Holes and bring the Terrorists to- say MacDonalds? Because right now on our New Dollar Menu we have- A Lengthy Campaign with Lots of Disturbing Pictures You're Going to Have to Find the Stomach for Or- Just Say "Supersize It" for- 40 billion dollar "relief" appropriation, passed by Congress in a special- sauce, lettuce-Jesus Was Rich! He Wore the Finest Clothes! Stayed in the Nicest Hotels! And He Wants You To- have a Coke and a- (blip!) power off, the magic show of light and sound disappear and the room falls silent...

it wouldn't be the city without sirens
always drifting in and out of the everpresent roadnoise background all
day and night
it wouldn't be the city without asphalt forever in all directions
creeping the Reganesque octopus arms of starsprinkled civilization's
starving need of scrap metal and fiber optic tongues and near death white
light meat want for more more and more-> drive to the ends of the earth-
you can- try the Pan American Highway to Neuvo Progresso Mexico, where
the poorest of the poorest wait under the border bridge, crying like
gulls on the shore where they can cry like gulls for the loose change you
don't give because you've come bargain hunting.
over the bridge for 5 dollar filet mignon, Cuervo Gold, and furniture for
a song, ignoring horrifying wails of malnourished accordions,
refusing Chicklets gum from a boy bearing a decorative crucifix complete
with Jesus nailed up, bleeding, sipping a Pina Colada in Holy nonchalance
and you don't even flinch, never for a second wondering what this's got
to do with you
and your lovely life in the airconditioned nightmare machinery of
we live in (within) an aristocracy covered several layers thin,
complete comfort, dim, on couches through the nation watching
the world through the one guided eye of the power silos
and raising children who video tape themselves in their backyards
smashing each other over the head with metal chairs.
Welcome to America  

I never thought i'd get used to it,
but it's years later than years before
and I don't hear anything anymore.... citywise that is,
the cars whoosh and shhhhooo hallucinated shadows carving the edges of
the room in a whispered rhythm
interssspersssssed with long periods of ssilence...
punct!uated by intermittent bursts of motorist exuberance-
driveshaft emotion realized in a mechanical Squawk amongst the flockers
the honkers, the geese are going bonkers in desperate deadlocked rush
hour traffic for hours without moving because of an accident only heard  
about on the radio.
I dreamt a scene for the Schuykill Expressway: in the sweaty, post-work
afternoon, drivers stuck in bumper-to-bumper nobody going nowhere
total automotive paralysis kind of traffic, drivers
listening to the report from Suzy in the News Chopper
thumperbeating overhead turn off all that shit
stop honking desperate impotence to the air
turns off their cars
takes out their keys
and everybody stuck on the highway gets out,
goes to their trunks
gets out their tire irons
or anything blunt and heavy and preferably metal for smashing the
everloving Shit out of All the Cars-
             Let the shattering of glass be upfront and personal!
          Let the tearing of metal mean something inside!
leave the rotten carcass to rust and crumble,
just walk away,
or better yet- run.

imagine amber waves of grain and you on a tractor,
mowing and spewing the happy teeth of maniacal glee-
imagine a forest ancient as the stars as far as the eye can see,
and now strap chains to it and pull it down with your truck.
imagine sitting on a shoreline sucking down the ocean breeze,
squeezing a fistful of sand and peeing into the froth and wash
no light for hundreds of miles save the spectral glowings of sailboats
teetertottering crescent moons against a heaven of total blackness.

the stars coagulate and vomit a mess of marbled scattering that solidifies into a lovely bannastered stairway and well, what else but to suddenly find yourself in a truly awful white on white Regis-like color combo suit and tie, white spandex socks and white leather loafers with gold puritan buckles...
          complimentary top hat and silver cane float down from outer space with 30's style big band with the cheesy white bandstand horn section and Krupastyle Kettle beating the shit out of that bass thaaang fills the vine covered culvert with thumpbumping, bouncesoff the backs of beach heads and row houses and barrels down the alley canyons if America dripping jasmine from slide trombones with a voice so fragile and clear it's hanging lewd laundry naked.
           And do i take Top Hat and Cane?  
                    Dance the stairway with fragile veins?
          Eat Uncle-Sam Ham
                       for the 1000 year Reign?
                    sing along with the wailing moan?
"Daaaown at Club Limbo,
          thhaaay still plaaaaaaaay                      STAAAAAaaaaaaarduust...
Down at Club Limbo,
                    thhaaaaaaats the plaaaaaaaaaace
                                                   for our luuuuuuvvvvvv...

© crossconnect 1995-2002 |
published in association with the |
university of pennsylvania's kelly writers house |