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Fifty-Eighth Sitting

S:"No it's not."

M:"Whaddaya mean?"

S:"No... it's not."

M, interrupting: "All modern, sensible, civilized cars have anti-lock brakes."

S, quick and long: "No... It's an extra feature, and if it doesn't have cruise control, it doesn't have anti-lock brakes."

Pause, then simultaneously M: "Duh." and S: "Like the one time we saw the.."

M, interrupting: "Yeah... And it's also we're in a Saab..."

S: "...the one time--no," S laughs, and simultaneously S: "Mitsubishi." and M: "You wanna bet?"

M: "Wanna bet Mitsubishi doesn't make cars; they don't make cars; they just make TV's."
S, interrupting: "Yeah... yeah, I think you already did your vacuuming on this one now listen."

M: "Okay."

S: "The one time you..."

M, interrupting: "Besides, you already kissed my neck."

S: "No... the one time..."

M, interrupting: "You did!"

S: "No, I didn't."

M, interrupting: "You did!" and simultaneously S: "No..." and M: "the one time we were in the in the in the..."

S, interrupting: "I did not kiss your neck."

M, finishing: "water."

Simultaneously M: "It was very light" and S: "It was not... a kiss."

M: "It was."

S: "It was not."

M: "Well, what was it?"

S: "It was water... and your imagination."

M: "You're just totally lying." Simultaneously M: "You're just totally lying." and S: "I am not lying."

M, softly: "You kissed my neck."

S: "... what?"

M: "You kissed my neck."

S, interrupting: "I did not... kiss your neck."

Pause, then S: "You are wanting to believe that..."

M, quickly: "No, you did... while we were..."

S, interrupting: "No. I know what you're thinking of..." then simultaneously M: "okay." and S: "...and I know I thought you thought that's probably what I did, but it was not what I did."

M, interrupting: "Well, what did you do, you went [makes gross hacking noise]..." She laughs and S: "Yes, it was water."

M, interrupting: "Yes, it's a hairball."

She laughs longer "Water noise... choking. It was choking."

M: "...totally lying."

S, quickly, laughing: "No, I'm not. You're just..."

M, interrupting: "Well, then you're just giving me wrong signals like that; that's why everything went astray, and we did that [slight pause for emphasis] horrible, demented thing.

Pause. S: "Well. You should have verified what you had..." She trails off.

M: "No, I didn't want to break the mood of the moment. You know... It was..."

S, interrupting, laughing: "Well, it was water suction, not a kiss." She really laughs.

M, after a pause: "Oh, yeah, okay... well... So were all mine. You know... All this suction of spittle; ya gotta do somethin' with it."

S, interrupting: "No, no, no."

M: "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

S, forcefully: "No!"

M, feebler: "Yeah."

S: "Yeah."

M, after pausing to briefly hyperventilate. "Don't you try to confuse me! You're so wily, dammit." She laughs while M: "Stop being wily." It ends almost plaintively.


Whew. Now I know why I don't write realistic dialogue... One minute, thirty-nine point twenty-nine seconds of dialogue (maybe a bit more; my walkman runs fast) = what? two and a half pages? Hey, I could figure out minutes per page... of course I could; I'm God! And I can say it as many times as I want and be as big of a bore as I want `cause it's my cosmos and I'll cry if I want to. And I guess I did last night, as I set my Godly sophisticated recording equipment to play that one verse of Her singing again and again... Yeah, I guess I officially missed reaching the climax of this book by Halloween, and the day after for that matter, so now it's an actual month after I left, but fuck that. I'm uncertain (because I choose to be) whether it's the month or the lunar month or the Halloween in between that makes for significance, but I decree that the significant temporal point will be whenever I get to the climax, which has really already started but it's kind of slow so you might not have noticed. And I guess I did know that daylight savings time started Saturday night, and not Sunday night, which means I purposely rushed away from eating with the hypothesized-rival Woman of Deepest Despair on the pretense that I was late for something that I really wasn't late for, which I guess is why I got there before anyone else...

And I thought that by getting the situation really in my head enough to cry over Her, it would be such a relief, and it is, but I know now as God that it's a relief several times in succession, i.e. I cry, but then feel very peaceful, but then cry again, etc. And I would know how this continued through My sleep, but I didn't get very much, as I had to get up for My first day of an actual Forty Hour/Week job, which thank Me will be over with forever come Saturday, after which I will once again be stocked up with 89cents pizzas and 45cents pot pies (which are a type of lard) and so can have enough energy to worry about what to do with all my time now that I'm done with this book, which I will be by then, I know `cause you know why. And I am God and God is Love and I Love Love Love Love Love so much over such vast distances and to such high heights that I'm going to have to beat the crap out someone, and don't think I didn't walk through His (X-Their) neighborhood yesterday, because I did, and I just may again for the book! For the book! For you, Sophia and minion Ted and my left toe and the fifteen faces of Las Vegas and all of you! I love you and if you let me into your heart and head I will never leave you (even though the lame-o author will probably be too busy chewing his cud or fornicating or wanting to do so {chew his cud} to give you so much as the time of day `cause he's such a lame-o), for I have always been a part of you, which I did say somewhere in the first or maybe second sitting, and you should be way satisfied by now that there is unity to this manuscript, because I decreed that it be so even though in fact the entire book was written by having DOGS fight over a sea of papers, and then shaping the bloodstains into the nearest possible letters.

I am good and it's time to grasp that bastard Evil by the roots and kick His silly butt till His ears bleed. And then again and again and eat off all the limbs in order of weight like an animal cracker, and then spit `em up and make Him eat them, then throw Him into the big `ole Lake of fire to burn for an eternity of burning, which is not even the teensy weensy fancy-feasty bit fun, and I will not be silent until my city rises bright and clear among the rubble of Fairbanks, which I declare here and now to be in British Columbia, I DAMMIT!


It came to a head in gym class. Of course gym class. And this was just pre-junior high, too, so there were actual females to get embarrassed in front of, among them the fabulous pre-She, incarnation of the Great Seductress who incidentally I saw just last year... She's done some pretty swell paintings, many of them life size, with very deep, piercing eyes...

The argument and harassment had started somewhat earlier... I don't care over what... It could have been any of a hundred incidents of humiliation inflicted for the simple crime of not knowing quite what to do or say at any given moment, of being out of touch with the group pseudo-teleology that makes systems like digestion and even the Department of Motor Vehicles look like smoothly-working perfectly sensible miracle wonders... and so they ARE! HA!

We were sitting down in our "squads" at the end of the class, those little regimented little fricking little lines that people sat in alphabetically which actually were totally ineffective to repress our little wonderfully sparking shining fricking brilliant little minds, but retained that para-military-looking form nonetheless, the intention to keep in line, to suggest, that just makes me want to take two mountains and just smash them together with my head in the middle and then laugh laugh laugh.

So as I was walking I remember being tripped, not by the shithead, but by more of a pecker, one of the Big Man's toadies with little beady eyes and an attitude problem (obviously). So he tripped me, and It was the second-or-third-to-the-last straw. I had been tormented for far too long, and the evil must be put to a STOP. So it escalated, and Captain Mean of course set Himself in the front, having the most to lose. And I remember the bastard on some completely different day making definite sexual jokes at and with Her, now that I think of it, at least as sexual as we were capable of, calling Her simply by the name Wah-Man. And I don't care if this wasn't in the equation at the time, I am psyched, and the Man must go down.

And so the bunch of us moved gradually outside, as recess was starting, and there was pushing, and the pecker wanted to fight me himself, but everyone knew what score needed to be settled. And I remember seeing Her on the side of the hallway, and I just said "Hi" as the punches began to throw themselves about. And I don't know whose fists were whose, but both were traded around a bit just before we exited out into the fantastically beautiful sunny day that rained down upon the schoolyard. And the crowd pushed us out, and told us to save it, and we moved down, across the vast sheet of black black blacktop, with more anger growing in me than I had known before or have known since. We passed through the smaller area decked with playground equipment, and I saw my own caste members just swinging on the swings. Because We are alone, By God, when it comes to the end. And behind the trees, punches swing. And I couldn't feel them as they landed on my face. No pain at all... just pressure. And I know I landed some good ones, though I don't remember those; I don't remember my individual fists striking in upon in that fucking evil bastard, and I don't remember being happy with His pain, as I really doubt He felt any either. And I refused to use any of the karate moves that I had learned in the previous two years of classes two times a week, because we weren't supposed to, and I was not an asshole who goes around bashing people; no, I fought on His terms, and threw those silly-ass rounded punches that come in from the side, so much less efficient than a direct and straight piercing smack right between the eyes and back through the frontal lobes into inches of awful squish, dammit. I make myself cackle with the ineffectuality of even trying to emphasize the moment with a "dammit," or graphic imagery, or even a Goddamn Butt joke, but that's how distracted I was. My body was moving, but my mind was free, and I distinctly remember even throwing a comedy punch... one that purposely missed and left me spinning around and around and around. And yes, they laughed, but I don't think that mooted my performance, which that bastard He actually complimented later, though He might have just been in a good mood. In any case I was on much better terms with Him after that for the most part, though it fell apart again when we hit junior high and didn't have to see each other as much... he had to use what precious time with me to use me like a bonified enemy should, to make fun of my walk and my face and whatever uncreative, stupid thing came to his so totally average mind so charged with hostility. And then He moved away, as all my enemies do (I have no idea why), and only our sixth grade teacher, probably the wisest man I ever met, gave us news of him (as it seems the bastard moved away from my neighborhood and into his...), and then only on the rare occasions when I stomped back to that place of my past, back in days when I wasn't as sentimental, though I admittedly used up just as much film, through just the sheer need to record it before it all slipped away.

The aforementioned teacher came and broke it up, and I was like two men my mind was so far from my body. And as we walked back in the way we had come and down to the principal's office, I passed Her again and let out a merry "Hello" with a big suave grin. She just stared. I have no idea how I looked; I just felt numb. He walked silently beside Me; there was no need for triumph, no need for despair, because no one had won. I feel tempted to say that no one ever wins, but in doing so I would obviously be trying to get across something sixty-five thousand times more subtle than that, so whatever. When we got to the principal's office, the resident authority figure asked what had happened and I just started crying and saying "I don't know. I don't know. I don't know." He was much more suave about it, as He had obviously been sent there about sixty more times in that week alone than I had. They asked me about His hand, which had two marks in it a couple inches apart. They thought I had bit him, and did I? Should He get a tetanus shot? Neither of Us could remember that happening, though He said it did, and I remember swearing that of course I didn't bite Him; My teeth just weren't that shape... I had incisors, fer Chrissake! I was not just a mass of canine! Do not blame my teeth, for they have done no wrong. Please, don't blame my teeth.

We were set to stand against this wall outside the gymnasium for the rest of recess... I think that might have been the only punishment I got. I calmed down somewhat as I was there, and We got to the same level. Being knocked around takes something out of you, even if you are a rabid DOG who doesn't care whether He lives or dies. I tasted that. I tasted that simplicity. And I tell ya... it never happened again.

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