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brightbeautifulthings · 4 years

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Week 20 (p. 651-808)

"Hal himself hasn't had a bona fide intensity-of-interior-life-type emotion since he was tiny; he finds terms like joie and value to be like so many variables in rarified equations, and he can manipulate them well enough to satisfy everyone but himself that he's in there, inside his own hull, as a human being -- but in fact he's far more robotic than John Wayne" (p. 694).

I'm pretty much over this week-to-week business. Now that the end is in sight (roughly 300 pages), I'm abandoning the schedule and reading as much as I can. Scheduling reading has only ever worked for me as far as it goes. I prefer to immerse myself, however much a novel like IJ seems to discourage that. The book is always structurally interesting, but it starts to get more complicated now as various characters and plots begin to almost slide into one another. There's a cool series of scenes where Matty Pemulis observes Poor Tony, Kate Gompert, and Ruth van Cleve pass by, with Lenz running around the fringes, where pretty soon all the paths intersect at some point, with or without the characters (or the reader) noticing. There's a lot in here about J.O.I.'s films, which seem increasingly unnecessary (but so much of the book is, and is meant to be). The section on the Incandenza family from Joelle's perspective provides some of the clearest insight we have of them, and they are indeed one of the saddest families in literature. We also get Joelle's history from Molly Notkin, both interestingly told from outside perspectives, as if main characters can't be trusted to see their own families clearly.

Week 21 (p. 809-981)

I forgot how totally frustrating it is to near the end of this book and realize the plot isn't going to wrap up in any sort of satisfying way. Wallace commented in an interview (I forget which) that he didn't need to talk about what happens at the end of the book because we know what happens. Buddy, YOU know what happens. The rest of us are here flailing about trying to fit a thousand pieces together, as I suppose we're meant to. We know that the A.F.R. is planning to infiltrate Enfield by the end of the novel, that Poutrincourt is one of their spies ("...which is the slip that indicates that Poutrincourt's figured out that Steeply is neither a civilian soft-profiler nor even a female ... and would require an almost professionally hypervigilant and suspicious person to notice the significance of" p. 1052)., and that John Wayne has some vague connection besides simply being Canadian. We know that, given Orin's capture at the end, they will probably have a Master copy of the Entertainment very soon. What we don't know is how that all goes down, what the fallout is for O.N.A.N., or how Hal gets to be in the state he is in the first chapter (DMZ? AFR? I still can't decide).

"...but it couldn't ordinarily affect anybody or anything solid, and it could never speak right to anybody, a wraith had no out-loud voice of its own, and had to use somebody's like internal brain-voice if it wanted to try to communicate with something, which was why thoughts and insights that were coming from some wraith always just sound like your own thoughts, from inside your own head, if a wraith's trying to interface with you" (p. 831).

This seems like the most compelling motive for J.O.I. to want to dose Hal with DMZ, if in fact he did. Wraiths can only talk to someone who has slowed way down and is no longer experiencing time the way humans normally do--which sounds exactly like what happens when someone ingests DMZ. By the end of the novel (the beginning chapter), we know that Hal can no longer communicate with the outside world, but that there's nothing wrong with his brain voice ("I am in here" p. 3). Will Hal and Jim finally get to have a conversation?

It's clearer than ever that something has happened to Hal though. I don't know if there's any support for the DMZ toothbrush theory--I was actively looking for it and didn't find any, other than the DMZ obviously being missing when Pemulis goes to get it and Hal and other E.T.A. kids vigilantly guarding their toothbrushes. If it's true, it's a leap, but making a leap may be the only way to make sense of that particular conundrum. Whatever has happened is getting worse, as people continually interpret Hal's facial expressions as either very sad or very amused, when we know he's neither. Most tellingly, the narrative switches to first person point of view, Hal telling his own story for the first time (chronologically, if not structurally).

"He dreams he's with a very sad kid and they're in a graveyard digging some dead guy's head up and it's really important, like Continental-Emergency important ... and the sad kid is trying to scream at Gately that the important thing was buried in the guy's head and to divert the Continental Emergency to start digging the guy's head up before it's too late, but the kid moves his mouth and nothing comes out ... while the sad kid holds something terrible up by the hair and makes the face of somebody shouting in panic: Too Late" (p. 934).

It seems like Gately eventually recovers, since we know he goes with Hal to help dig up J.O.I.'s head (verified in chapter one when Hal recalls it). It's possible the Wraith told him about the Entertainment, and this seems especially plausible when Gately somehow knows the plot of the Entertainment while he's still lying in the hospital. It's also possible that Joelle told him about it; through her conversation with Steeply (p. 940), we know that she knew the Masters were buried with Himself--which, ironically, is now buried in the Great Concavity. I'm still not clear about how John Wayne got involved, but there's this super oblique comment in an endnote about Bernard Wayne, a potential A.F.R. member who had not jumped when the train arrived and later drowned (p. 1060), which could potentially be John's father or grandfather.

I had forgotten that the 'Swiss' hand model was actually Luria P----. There are two obvious nods to other novels near the end here, with Fackelmann's A Clockwork Orange style end, and Orin's business with the cockroaches echoing the rats in 1984, specifically his nonsensical shouting "'Do it to her!'" (p. 972). Her who? Luria? Avril? All Subjects in general? I'm a little curious as to why Wallace bothered to make the references. He was doing well on the graphic horror all on his own, no need for outside references.

I'm amused by how many of my questions in my Q and A section are still unanswered. I thought if I paid closer attention on a second read that I would pick up more of the plot things I'd missed on my first, but I don't think that was the problem. I think it's that those answers simply aren't to be found in the actual text. Of course, they can point us toward various conclusions, and the novel certainly encourages us to speculate and make connections, but I don't think the actual answers are there. I have some more thoughts on this, and I'll likely have a review up this week or next.

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS. TURN BACK BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE.

Questions & Working Theories

[tw: drug mention, infidelity, incest, statutory rape]

Q: What happened to Hal? (Obvi) - Hal purposely ate the DMZ. He even says in this section, “I cannot make myself understood, now. Call it something I ate” (p. 10). I never bought this explanation, though, because later in the book it seems like Hal is making an effort to come off drugs. - The mold Hal ate as a child had long-term effects, and something (coming off drugs?) may have triggered his current condition. Also supported by, “Call it something I ate” (p. 10). - Aaron Swartz has a very convincing theory that Hal accidentally ate the DMZ when The Wraith placed it on his toothbrush. (Again, supported by above.) Hal is an excellent communicator but lacks feelings, and J.O.I. was attempting to create something that would draw his son out of himself. - Hal was injured when the A.F.R. attacked Enfield Tennis Academy. There’s a weird line in this chapter: “I once saw the word KNIFE finger-written on the steamed mirror of a nonpublic bathroom” (p. 16). This is likely also the work of The Wraith, indicating some kind of violence, perhaps the A.F.R. attack on Enfield. - "A surreal memory of a steamed lavatory mirror with a knife sticking out of the pane" (p. 951). A: Still unclear, but I'm leaning more toward DMZ than A.F.R. on this read. We can see Hal's symptoms growing worse from the Eschaton game onward, and in the last chapters, people think he's either laughing or grimacing when he's not feeling either of those things. Still super interested in the mirror/knife asides though. Is this part of the A.F.R. attack?

Q: Why was Hal hospitalized “almost exactly one year back” (p. 16)? - The side effects of the DMZ were first starting to appear. - Hal was injured in the A.F.R. attack. - It’s clear, also, that this was when Hal met Gately. Although they never have an on-page scene together, Hal refers to the two of them attempting to dig up J.O.I.’s head to find the Entertainment, alongside a masked John Wayne. A: Unclear. See above.

Q: How did Gately, Hal, and John find out about the Entertainment in order to dig it up? How did they discover where it was hidden? - Himself actually mentions that the cartridge has been implanted in his head when he’s talking to Hal as a posed conversationalist. However, this is all the way back in the Year of the Tucks Medicated Pad, when Hal is only ten-going-on-eleven. Hard to imagine that Hal remembered what was basically a throw-away comment, let alone understood its meaning. - The Wraith may have told Gately about it while he was lying in the hospital, the same way Gately somehow knows the plot of the Entertainment while he's there. - Joelle may have told them about it, since from her conversation with Steeply, we know that she knows that all the Masters were buried with Jim, which is now buried in the Great Concavity. A: Unclear, but several plausible scenarios.

Q: Who is mailing out the Entertainment? - Swartz suggests that it’s Orin Incandenza, who later under threat of torture releases it to the A.F.R. This seems well-supported by the text, since the initial cartridge is mailed from Arizona, and it’s conveniently sent to a medical attaché with whom Avril probably had an affair (per J.O.I.’s conversation with Hal). - Some support for this theory during one of Hal and Orin's phone conversations: "'What are you doing going to the post office? You hate snail-mail. And you quit mailing the Moms the pseudo-form-replies two years ago, Mario says'" (p. 244). Why is Orin at the post office, if not to mail more copies of the Entertainment? - However, as Marie pointed out, we don't know for sure that Orin was in Arizona in April YDAU. He's there in October, but there's a flashback of him in New Orleans in July that doesn't mention the year. If it was YDAU, Orin couldn't have postmarked the Cartridge from Arizona in April. - Orin also asks Hal directly about the days leading up to Himself's death, and he seems suspiciously interested in whatever film he was working on. "'Did he have film-related things with him when he flew somewhere? A film case? Equipment?'" (p. 250). However, if he already knew about the Entertainment back in April, why ask Hal about it in November? - This conversation is continued in a lengthy endnote where Orin asks about the definition of samizdat ("the generic meaning now is any sort of politically underground or beyond-the-pale press or the stuff published thereby" (p. 1011) and comments, "'So you'd have no idea why The Mad Stork's name would come up in connection with somebody saying samizdat?'" (p. 1011). Again, it's suspicious that he's even asking, but also, if he already knows about the Entertainment, why bother to ask? Is he trying to find out, or just trying to find out what Hal knows about it? Why? - "...place the likely dissemination-point someplace along the U.S. north border, with routing hubs in metro Boston/New Bedford and/or somewhere in the desert Southwest" (p. 549). Obviously, the Southwest could be Orin, but who's distributing it in Boston? Orin before he moved? I'd guess the Antitoi brothers, but their copy turned out to be blank (or seemed to be, if it was played on the wrong model). Orin has motive to want the medical attache dead for the affair with his mother, but why the film scholar, the avant-garde film festival, and the members of the Academy of D.A.S.? Were these Himself's rivals, or people Avril also had affairs with? - "Swiss cuckolds, furtive near-Eastern medical attachés, zaftig print-journalists: he felt ready for anything" (p. 597). - "There was reason to think M. DuPlessis had received his original copies from this relative, an athlete. Marathe felt U.S.B.S.S. felt this person may have borne responsibility for the razzles and dazzles of Berkeley and Boston, U.S.A." (p. 723). Did Orin give a copy to DuPlessis, or did he send it to him to kill him? A: It seems pretty clear on a re-read that it is Orin sending out the Entertainment, either from Boston before he left it or from Arizona where he currently lives, or both. I'm still not clear how he knew about it in the first place though, in order to dig it up. Between Orin's capture/torture at the end and the Antitoi brothers' having copies of DuPlessis's stolen cartridges, it seems certain that the A.F.R. will soon locate a Master copy. (The Antitoi's turns out to be Read-Only p. 725.)

Q: How did Orin find out about the Entertainment? - Joelle might have told him, though this was after her disfigurement and their breakup, so I'm not sure why she would. A: Unclear.

Q: When did Orin transfer from New Orleans to Arizona? - In June YW-QMD, Orin was still with the New Orleans Saints, per the mail between him and Avril (p. 1006-7). - In October YDAU, he's in Arizona. Q: Unclear.

Q: What happened to John Wayne that he can’t win this year’s WhataBurger competition? A: SUPER UNCLEAR. Thanks for nothing. We know he survived the A.F.R. attack (if Steeply didn’t stop the attack) because he’s in the off-page graveyard scene with Hal and Gately. Was he an A.F.R. target after that for going against them?

Q: What “sordid liaison” (p. 30) with the M. DuPlessis, who dies in a later chapter, did the Incandenza family have? - Still not clear, but it sounds like J.O.I. either purposely or under duress gave a Master copy (or copyable copy) of the Entertainment to DuPlessis, or had it stolen from him before or after his death, and it was then stolen by accident when Gately robbed and killed DuPlessis. ("Whether or not the A.F.R. ever even recover this alleged Master copy from the DuPlessis burglary..." (p. 489).) A: Best guess is that Avril had an affair with DuPlessis, Orin/Jim discovered the affair (possibly with a name written on the fogged up glass of Avril's car), and Orin sent him a copy to kill him, which he didn't watch (because he died? Not clear on the timeline). The copy was then stolen by Gately and ended up with the Antitoi brothers.

Q: Is Marathe a double-agent, or is he just pretending to be a double agent? - Marathe has betrayed the A.F.R. and is aiding Steeply and the Americans in finding the Entertainment in order to get medical care for his wife. - Marathe is only pretending to betray the A.F.R. in order to get more information from Steeply. A: Marathe is a double-agent, and is actually betraying the A.F.R. "The A.F.R. believed Marathe functioned as a triple agent, pretending to betray his nation for his wife, memorizing every detail of the meetings with B.S.S. ... M. Fortier did not know Marathe had reached the internal choice that he loved his skull-deprived and heart-defective wife Gertraud Marathe more than he loved the Separatist and anti-O.N.A.N. cause of the nation of Québec..." (p. 529).

Q: Where did the tripod set up in the middle of nowhere on the ETA grounds come from? - The U.S.S. Millicent Kent set up the tripod as an excuse to get Mario alone. - This is the possibly the first instance of the Wraith's work. He's responsible for most of the odd occurrences at ETA, and "Mario said his late dad had used a somewhat less snazzy IV-model Husky back in his early days of making art-films..." (p. 122).) A: The Wraith put it there. "But it's true. The Husky VI tripod of Mario's near-fatal encounter with the U.S.S. Millicent Kent was only the beginning" (p. 632). After this, the instances of objects being in odd places around E.T.A. increases dramatically.

Q: Who is the narrator in some of these sections about ETA? - It's a distinct voice from the sections that have conversations, but it also sounds a little like someone talking to us. ("I want to be like that. Able to just sit all quiet and pull life toward me..." (p. 128). Is this a character? A: Unclear. The only clear first person POV character we have in the novel is Hal. In some ways, the narrator's voice does sound a lot like Hal's, but if this is the case, he also discusses himself in third person a lot (which... Hal is pretty removed from himself, so that's not entirely impossible). I'm not confident enough to say that Hal is the mystery narrator throughout the book though.

Q: Are the effects of DMZ the effects we see in Hal in the first chapter? A: Very likely. Whatever starts in the Eschaton game grows worse toward the end of the novel, as people continually interpret Hal's facial expressions as either very sad or very amused, when we know he's neither. Most tellingly, the narrative switches to first person point of view, Hal telling his own story for the first time (chronologically, if not structurally).

Q: Why do Hal's symptoms in the Eschaton game seem more like DMZ side effects than marijuana side effects? Was there DMZ mixed with it? Was it purposely mixed in, or was it the work of the Wraith? - This is the first time we see Hal with similar symptoms as the ones he has in the first chapter, which seems to suggest that--whether or not the DMZ and marijuana are related, whether it was intentional or not--Hal did take the DMZ on Interdependence Day YDAU. - Pemulis goes looking for the DMZ later on, which seems to suggest it wasn't intentional, at least not on his end. Hal also doesn't consciously acknowledge that he's going to take it in this chapter either. - Mario reflecting on his brother: "He can't tell if Hal is sad. He is having a harder and harder time reading Hal's state of mind or whether he's in good spirits. This worries him. He used to be able to sort of preverbally know in his stomach generally where Hal was and what he was doing, even if Hal was far away and playing or if Mario was away, and now he can't anymore" (p. 590). Why the change? DMZ-related? - "But the crisis of faith that cost Stice the match had concerned a different Hal, Hal can tell. It's now a whole new Hal, a Hal who does not get high, or hide, a Hal who in 29 days is going to hand his own personal urine over to authority figures with a wide smile and exemplary posture and not a secretive thought in his head" (p. 635). If Hal took the DMZ on purpose, does he know it will be out of his system in a month? What else could have created a "whole new Hal"? It seems like a leap to think that quitting marijuana is the sole cause of all the changes. A: Very likely that Hal took DMZ, maybe more than once, starting at the Eschaton game.

Q: Who is Mario's father, Jim or Charles? - This is more of a detail question than anything because I'm not sure I care about the answer. It certainly doesn't seem to matter to Mario. He obviously bonded a lot with Jim over film in a way that seems almost worshipful at times, and I'm always in the camp of family is who you choose, not necessarily who you're related to. Also, Charles seems repelled by Mario, whereas Jim apparently loved him and spent time with him, so fuck Charles. A: Unclear.

Q: Is Charles Avril's half-brother or step-brother? - Again, this is a detail question, although one is significantly grosser than the other if they're having an affair, which it sounds like they are/were. ("...the thing it's not entirely impossible he may have fathered asleep up next to the sound system..." (p. 451).) That’s... not really a question if they weren’t sleeping together. Fuck you twice, Charles. - "Charles Tavis is probably not related to the Moms by actual blood" (p. 900). A: According to Hal, he's most likely her step-brother, though it doesn't seem like anyone ever cared enough to verify this.

Q: Was Pemulis selling DMZ to the Antitoi brothers, or buying it from them? - "Bertraund had been starry-eyed enough to agree to barter the person an antique blue lava-lamp and a lavender-tinged apothecary's mirror for eighteen unexceptional-looking and old lozenges the long-haired old person had claimed in a jumble of West-Swiss-accented French were 650 mg. of a trop-formidable harmful pharmaceutical no longer available and guaranteed to make one's most hair-raising psychedelic experience look like a day on the massage-tables of a Basel hot-springs resort..." (p. 482) A: Unclear, but I'm guessing buying, since Pemulis ends up with it and, as far as we know, the Antitoi brothers don't.

Q: What's the significance of Lucien Antitoi's spirit immediately after his death? Does this have an impact on the Wraith's activities? - "...and is free, catapulted home over fans and the Convexity's glass palisades at desperate speeds, soaring north, sounding a bell-clear and nearly maternal alarmed call-to-arms in all the world's well-known tongues" (p. 489). A: It seems like the Wraith's activities amplify after Lucien's death. If he knows that Hal is in danger from the A.F.R., he might be trying to rally Gately to help.

Q: If Pemulis has Avril's affair with John Wayne to hold over her, why is he still expelled at the end of the novel? A: WOOPS. Peemster accidentally dosed John with 'drines, as well as his very public tennis opponent. Can't help feeling Pemulis unfairly got the worst of it, while Avril got in zero trouble for having an affair with a teenage student. Also, hilariously, Hal already knew about the affair and didn't care about it.

Q: What's up with John Wayne and Hal? - "...John ('N.R.') Wayne opened up the ajar door a little more and put his whole head in and stayed like that, with just his head in. He didn't say anything and Hal didn't say anything, and they stayed like that for a while, and then Wayne's head smoothly withdrew" (p. 560). - "I could somehow tell for sure that John Wayne's head was inside the open door. I could feel it clearly, almost painfully. He was looking down at me lying there on the Lindisfarne carpet. There was none of the gathering tension of a person deciding whether or not to speak. I could feel my throat's equipment move when I swallowed. John Wayne and I never had much to say to one another. There wasn't even hostility between us" (p. 956). A: No idea. There’s the possibility that John is a spy for the A.F.R. the same as Poutrincourt, but I’d thought they had to infiltrate the tennis academy because they didn’t have another spy already in place. Thanks to the weird endnote, we know he has some connection, but I’m not totally sure what it is.

Q: Do Pemulis's descriptions of the effects of annulation have anything to do with how DMZ affects people, or the effect the mold Hal ate as a child had on him? It seems oddly similar to how Hal is experiencing time in the first chapter. Is this how J.O.I. stumbled onto it? - "'Accelerated phenomena, which is actually equivalent to an incredible slowing down of time", "relativity of time in extreme organic environments" (p. 573). A: Could be one of a million metaphors in this book.

#infinite jest #david foster wallace #infinite slow summer #infinite summer #infinite jest readalong #yrstruly

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antialiasis · 5 years

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Dave and Mia Discuss Infinite Jest

I wrote this for @negrek‘s birthday, but figured it might possibly bring some amusement to others as well.

(This is a non-canon Morphic extra. It contains some vague spoilers for the book Infinite Jest.)

Dave looked up as he turned off the TV, just in time for the news to switch over to sports. Mia was still sitting by the kitchen table, working on her new book report.

He stood up and approached the table, watching her write. Her handwriting was a curious blend of messy and meticulous, precise consistent lines but with no aesthetic or care to the letterforms themselves; her teachers had attempted to complain, and her parents had tried to encourage her to write more nicely, but he’d maintained they were full of shit and it was perfectly legible. It definitely wasn’t from upside down, though.

“What’s that report on, anyway?”

Mia didn’t look up. “Infinite Jest.”

Dave sat down opposite her, blinking. “Huh. Isn’t that that… that fucking book with the tennis?”

“Yes.”

“Huh. I read that when I was in college. I…” He paused. “Wait, hold the fuck up. That’s the book with the… That’s not an age-appropriate book. Who assigned you that?”

Mia shrugged. “Mrs. Webb.”

“Why would—”

“She was angry when she heard we read The Quest for the Legends last year. Said we should read a more adult and challenging book.”

“…What the—”

“She told us to skip some parts, though.”

“…Right.” Dave narrowed his eyes at Mia. If he had been given those instructions in tenth grade, he would definitely have read those parts, probably before the rest of the book. “And you skipped them? Just, less reading, great?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” God, if Jean ever took this fucking class. He scratched at his scalp. “Well, what’d you think?”

“It was very long and nothing made any sense. The people just kept on doing stupid things for no reason. Even more than normal.” Mia wrinkled her nose. “That’s what I’m writing about.”

Sure. Mia’s book reports were always colorful. “Well, I guess that’s true. It’s about a bunch of drug addicts, isn’t it? Hardly a bastion of rationality.”

“And there was a movie that people would just watch over and over until they died.”

“Hah. Yeah.” Dave leaned back in the chair, lips curling into a smirk. “Do you think it’d work on you?”

Mia stared at him. “There is no movie. It’s fiction. Someone made it up.”

“Well, yeah, obviously, but I mean, if there was a movie like that.”

“No,” Mia said. “It made no sense. There’s no point watching a movie again when you know how it goes. And this one sounded very boring anyway.”

“Well, it’s all some kind of big metaphor for drug addiction, isn’t it? By the time you’ve watched the movie once, it’ll have fucked with your brain chemistry so that you don’t think it’s boring anymore, and all you want to do is watch it again.”

Mia narrowed her eyes at him for a moment. Then she shrugged and returned to writing. “Then it works. Unless it doesn’t work right on Scyther brains. They didn’t try it on Pokémon in the book.”

Dave folded his arms, amused. “Fair point. I figured maybe you’d say you’d just never fall for something like that.”

“If it can just change the brain, then it doesn’t matter. It’s not me anymore.”

“Well, I mean, it’s not magic. Or, I guess maybe the movie in the book was magic, but drugs in real life aren’t. So, you know, people still technically have free will, and in theory they might want to stop and they could stop, but they’re addicted, so they just keep buying and using the drug anyway. Like with the other people in the book.”

“That’s stupid.”

Dave turned it over in his head, looking for a way to explain. “I mean, sometimes you see a fly and you just want to slash it, right? You can be pretty impulsive. Imagine that, but the thing you want to do is the drug. It’s something that makes you feel good and you want to do it, but you could choose not to.”

Mia cocked her head. “If it just makes me feel good and I want it, then there’s no reason not to.”

Uh. Fuck. That went somewhere he didn’t expect. “Um, well, imagine the movie in the book again – they love watching it, and they want to, but it’s still killing them. That’s what it does, it makes you want something that might be actually really bad and going to kill you. You see how that’s bad, right?” God, he hoped so. Mia on drugs would be a terrible idea – potentially hilarious, but terrible.

Mia surveyed him with interest. “They’re only dying because they keep watching the movie instead of eating and sleeping. If I really wanted to watch the movie as much as I could, I’d just have to make sure I still get food and sleep. I could watch while I eat too. They’re just being stupid about it.”

“Okay, but…” He stopped himself. “Look. The brain chemistry thing? You probably can’t think or plan that clearly once you’ve started watching the movie, so you’d end up not eating anyway. Drugs fuck with your brain. You don’t want that, right? Even the ones that don’t kill you are liable to make you do something stupid. Don’t do drugs.”

Mia looked at him blankly. “Alcohol is a drug.”

“What? No.” She frowned. “Well, I mean, it’s – it’s not the bad kind. It’s legal. Everyone drinks.”

“It makes you act stupid, though.”

“I mean – sure, but – look, even aside from that, you don’t want to do the illegal kind because you might go to jail. Drug possession is just the excuse some people would need to put you away.”

Mia gave him a suspicious look, but finally turned back towards her paper and continued writing.

Dave sighed, rubbing his temples. Maybe they’d need to have another drug conversation. Weren’t they supposed to handle this bullshit at school?

He watched her hand flit across the paper, her eyes intense and focused. “What did you think of the ending?” he asked after a moment.

“Which part?”

“Well, it suddenly turned out there were ghosts, for one. I remember being pretty unhappy about that one.”

“Why?”

Huh. Honestly, he’d expected her of all people to understand. “Well, you’ve gone most of this novel thinking it’s happening in the real world – or you know what I mean, a world that’s like the real world – but then it’s got ghosts all of a sudden, and those aren’t real. That’s pretty weird and jarring, isn’t it?”

Mia looked at him, deadpan. “It wasn’t like the real world. Nothing made sense anyway. It wasn’t any worse than the rest.”

Dave chuckled. “Okay, sure. What about how it just ended in the middle? Did you want to know what happened?” Though he supposed she probably wouldn’t care.

“What happened?”

“You know, with the main characters who never even met, and how they ended up at the beginning. Some shit about digging up his dad’s head, or something. I could never make heads or tails of it.”

Mia tilted her head at him. “It was obvious what happened.”

Dave blinked. What. Was it? Did she just think it was? He didn’t remember it that well, honestly. The only reason he’d read the thing in college was because him and some guys he knew back then had a bet going about who could make it through this bizarre postmodern thousand-page novel about tennis and footnotes. He’d skimmed the most obnoxious parts. Was the answer to everything in that fucking neverending section with the racist psychopath going on about cheese or something?

“What did…” No. No, he was not going to make Mia explain a book to him. He’d sooner read the fucking thing again. Jesus Christ.

“Well, were there any parts you liked?” he asked instead.

Mia looked up, thinking for a moment before answering. “I liked the bits with Lenz killing the animals.”

Something uncomfortable twisted in Dave’s stomach. “…Oh. Really?”

“Yes. He experimented and figured out the best way to do it. Those bits made sense.”

Dave blinked at her for a moment before exhaling. “Right. So not the part about him murdering people’s pets per se?”

“No. Mostly the part where it made sense how he did it.” She paused. “But most of the time he was just doing drugs or thinking about directions even though they don’t mean anything. Everyone in this book was weird.”

“So it’s not a bloodlust thing, just a… yay-science thing, I guess?” Dave looked searchingly at her. She shrugged.

“There was also a good bit with a fight. And a footnote about math. That was interesting.”

Dave sank back into his chair, rubbing his forehead. “Oh, yeah. I remember something like that.” Man, this fucking book. “I liked the chapter about the Eschaton, myself. The guy who wrote the rules and all that – Pemulis? I liked him.”

Mia tilted her head at him. “It sounded like a boring and pointless game. I didn’t understand why they all spent so much time on it. And they kept using a bunch of acronyms for no reason.”

Dave chuckled to himself. “Yeah, I guess the humour of it would be lost on you.”

“But Pemulis was better than most of them. He tried to explain why the snow falling on the map shouldn’t affect the game.”

“I thought that was the best part of the book, personally.”

Mia nodded slowly. “I liked that part. But those other kids were just being stupid for no reason.”

“You’d be surprised how many people are exactly that flavor of stupid in real life.”

She looked away, contemplative. “Why do people write books like this?” she said after a moment.

“Well, I mean, I imagine the author felt like he had something to say.”

“But why would you want to say a thousand pages about people acting weird at a tennis academy?”

“I’d guess the main point is the stuff about addiction and all that, what with the eponymous movie and all.”

Mia frowned. “But the movie wasn’t like drugs anyway. It’s like you were saying earlier, about how it was just magic changing the brain chemistry.”

“Again, it’s a metaphor.”

“It’s a stupid metaphor.”

Dave smirked. He’d been there for some of Mia’s homework on metaphors; she’d been very angry people would try to make a point about a thing by talking about a different thing that was not exactly analogous. Which was great, but her English teacher had been less happy. “I guess it’s part what if you had a super-addictive drug, part TV’s making everyone stupid these days.”

Mia looked at him with the sort of hard deadpan stare she reserved for emergencies. Dave grinned. “All right, all right, it’s a stupid metaphor.”

“And half of the book isn’t even talking about that anyway,” she said, a note of annoyance in her voice. “It’s just tennis exercises or a guy cleaning floors.”

“Sure. Guy really needed an editor. And there’s also some pretty, uh, fucked-up shit in that book. I’m guessing you skipped a lot of it, but I think he had some serious issues to work out.”

“Why would he write about that?”

Dave waved a hand. “Artists and tragic suffering and tortured self-expression, I guess. Maybe he thought writing about it would help.”

“Did it?”

“I’m pretty sure he killed himself, so I’m guessing no.”

Mia looked back at her report, clearly dissatisfied. “Why are they making us read this in school.”

“That one I fully agree with. What the fuck.”

Mia sighed irritably and returned to writing.

(Dave snatched the book out of her bag later.)

#morphic #infinite jest #actual writing #drugs cw #suicide mention #featuring: Dave being not at all in denial about his alcoholism what are you talking about #david ambrose's many issues let me tell you about them

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larrypancinhahehe · 3 years

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"And I say to you that you are Peter, a rock, and on this rock I will build my assembly, and the gates of Hades will not be stronger than it. I will give you keys of the Kingdom of Heaven, and whatever you tie up on the earth will be tied up in heaven, and whatever you untie on earth will be untied in heaven." (vv. 18–19)

The expression “And I say” is generally reserved for pronouncements by the major authority on issues that are contentious. Uncommon in Talmudic literature, it is found almost exclusively in Mishnah and Tosefta in formulations of Rabbi Judah the Prince, head of the Jewish communities in Palestine and of the Academy of the Sages¹³.

As for the name Peter, I see no reason to think that Simon’s name was not Petros¹⁴. Jews could have had multiple names; even one’s name in Judea might have been different in the Galilee¹⁵. So Jesus says, “Petros, which I, Jesus interpret as petra (Greek loanword in Hebrew, Aramaic), a rock.” Eventually Jesus will declare that nothing will be stronger than this rock—the authority of Peter—which anchors the Church. Rabbi Meir is quoted as saying about the biblical Elimelekh, whose journeys led to the eventual birth of King David: “[A]nd the name of the man was EliMelekh (Ruth 1,2)” as if he had unwittingly proclaimed two words eli—“to me,” and melekh—“will come kingship!” (Ruth Rab. 2,5). Similarly, Jesus declares that Peter’s name is actually a sign of his future. The passage is brilliantly constructed and rests on a nimble Jewish mind that has provided the puzzle pieces for the Gospel to connect, constructing its own picture for its own purposes.

The midrash (preserved in Yalkut Šim‘oni 766) interprets the reference in Num 29,3 to rosh tzurim as “from the first [available] rocks I chose him”:

The parable of a king who sought to build [a solid palace]: he kept digging deeper and deeper to lay foundations but as everywhere he dug there were watery quagmires, he dug elsewhere. He found petra [rockbed] beneath this other spot and declared, “I will build right here!” He laid the foundations and built it there.

In like fashion, when God wanted to begin the creation of the world, He contemplated and saw the unworthy generations that would spring up at first. When God foresaw Abraham arising in the future He said, “I have located My petra upon which to build and to lay the foundation of the world.” So He named Abraham ‘Tzur’ ” [=petra= rock].

Jesus sees within Peter’s name the unshakeable foundation of his church. A comparison might be made between the rock of Peter and the rock of Abraham. Just as Abraham [=Petra] is the one who spread the message monotheism to the world, so Peter [=Petra] will be the one to spread the word of Jesus’ messiahship to the world. Many have understood the rest of this passage to refer to Peter’s evangelical teachings.

The more creative rhetorical flourish comes from the realization of the word play in Hebrew etymology involving tzur. Not only do we find tzur as “rock, tzor also means “tie”¹⁶ or “lock up”¹⁷. Together they produce an image of something both immovable and secured. Not only will Peter be the foundational bed-rock for the church, he will also hold the keys that can lock up Hell or unlock Paradise. Ruth Rab. Petitchtot (7) illustrates tzor as “bound” or “shut closed” together with the sense of aḥaz, both having the same meaning:

Ahaz plotted . . . if there are to be no disciples, there can be no sages. But to have no sages, there can be no synagogues and schools, and [all the better] if there are no synagogues and schools, in a manner of speaking, God will not have a dwelling place in the world. Behold I will shut closed (aḥaz) the synagogues and schools! This is what Isa 8,16 relates (creatively rendered): Shut closed the teaching [places]! Seal up the Torah [scholars] with the disciples!

Rabbi Ḥanina says: [W]hy was he called “Ahaz”? Because he shut closed (aḥaz) the synagogues and the schools.

On the one hand, Peter has become tzur—rock; rock becomes solid foundation. The meaning of tzur then shifts from rock to tzor—shut closed. “Shut closed” moves us to the image of “keys that open or lock doors.” The interpretive trigger for the passage lies in the recognition that the (possibly Aramaic) source used by Matthew must originally have referred to tzur—perhaps the very tzurim (plural) of Num 29,3. It is tempting, although admittedly speculative, to see some kind of midrashic connection operating here. Tzur as petra applies both to Abraham, upon whom the principle of monotheism was founded, and to Peter, upon whom the Church would be founded.

If Abraham was the rock of this world for the Rabbis, Peter is the both the foundation of the church and the key-holder of the eschaton for the evangelist. This insight gives us the textual tools we need to interpret the import of Matt 16,19, which concludes the passage:

"I will give you keys of the heavenly kingdom, and whatever you tie up on the earth will be tied up in heaven, and whatever you untie on earth will be untied in heaven.

Let us consider further about what is tied up and untied on earth. I think “tie up” is best rendered “shut closed” and “untie” as “opened up.”

Many years ago I undertook a study of these lines,¹⁸ looking at the tradition history of word pairs deō/lyō (tie-up/untie) in Greek with their equivalents pataḥ -’asar in Hebrew. I mainly considered passages where the pairs were contrasted, as they are in the Gospel, paying less attention to usages where the one or the other appeared without its mate. I discounted the meanings of teaching, forbidding/permitting, swearing/dissolving promises, binding with spells/removing spells; even if these Jewish usages could be made to fit the context, they do not consistently appear as the word pairs that render deō / lyō (tie-up/untie) and upon which I based my study. I also examined the interpretation of our Gospel passage in the Didascalia Apostolorum and in its alternative tradition, John 20,23.

I concluded that this verse conveys the idea that membership in good standing in the Church is tantamount to having the bonds of death opened up forever; whereas the loss of this status is tantamount to having the bonds of eternal death shut closed. Heaven has concurred to follow the dictates of the churches and the leadership of Peter. To me the passage means “death will be shut closed or opened by the authority of Peter and his Church to admit or refuse membership.”¹⁹ This passage looks to be supportive of the Jewish Apostolic Church in Jerusalem. It was indeed this understanding of the authority of Peter, believed to have been embodied in the papacy, that gave medieval Popes their power over kings, whom they could threaten with excommunication and eternal damnation.

Matthew seems to have merged verses from a very pro-Peter source with a source that is either anti-Peter or neutral. We can see the effect of this pro-Peter source by comparing Matthew 16,17–19 with Mark 8,29–33—which also has its place in Matthew’s account—where there is nothing complimentary to Peter at all:

He questioned them, “And you, who do you say that I am?” Peter answered and said to him, “You are the Messiah.” He rebuked them, so that no one would speak about him. He began to teach them that it was necessary for the Son of Man to suffer many things and to be rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the Scribes, and to be killed, and after three days to rise. He made this speech boldly, and Peter, taking him aside, began to rebuke him. He turned around and, seeing his disciples, rebuked Peter and said, “Go behind me, Satan! You are not thinking the thoughts of God, but of human beings.”

Luke 9,20–22 has neither praise nor condemnation for Peter:

He said to them, “And you, who do you say that I am?” Peter answered, “God’s Messiah.” He rebuked them and commanded them not to tell this to anyone: The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and Scribes, and be killed, and raised on the third day.”

Jesus, having admitted He was the Messiah and praised Peter, now returns us to an anti-Peter narrative. Matthew’s Gospel, unique in its presentation, maintains both views of Peter alongside one another in unresolved tension. This verse seems to be a later, reworked version of a statement preserved in a more pristine form in Matt 18,18, where there is no reference to Peter or to the keys to the Kingdom.

"The Gospel of Matthew and Judaic Traditions, a Relevance-based Commentary" by Herbert W. Basser with Marsha B. Cohen, pages 420-424

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sistervirtue · 7 months

Text

crossover event of the century to practice. comic format

#eschaton academy #godhead death sentence #sister virtue #leopold lupei #lacramioara strigoi

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hauntedchild · 2 years

Photo

a cleaner Angel Gabriel sheet, although i’m still working on his biography! he’s the defacto head of the archangels, and is the ascended spirit of a young man from the early 1800s in Morelia, Mexico. His outfit is very heavily inspired by the Sanctuary of Lady Guadelupe from that very town, and mariachi charro, which apparently focus more on metalwork than embroidery? Thank you to @lgbtriddler for help with his design and backstory!

another fun fact: trumpets actually didn’t enter mariachi music until the 1900s. I gave him a baroque trumpet to reflect that; an older form of trumpet he probably got given from heaven instead of bringing from home.

#angel gabriel #eschaton academy #angel #angel oc

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bestworstcase · 3 months

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Sort of a funny/sad realization but it just occurred to me Salem & Sienna potentially could have worked together.

Cos even if we ignore well thought out speculation on Salem's end goals, her priorities have been Relics > Ozma > Maidens > Kingdoms.

With the last two being more like tools to get to the latter two.

Sure we know from Atlas she is OK with a civilization falling, but she's also fine with something just being snuck out of the Vault or given to her.

Thus, it seems it was more Cinder's methods and or issues with the kingdoms as concepts that informed some of her methods or allies, IE, Adam who cares more about killing than he does about building or conquering.

But if city destruction and mass death are not necessary, one could actually see an alliance between Sienna & Salem.

i think abt this all the time cause like

salem sends hazel, her most level-headed lieutenant and the one least likely to escalate or resort to violence in circumstances where ozpin is not present, to represent her to sienna khan

hazel (& salem by extension) is not forewarned of adam's plan to assassinate sienna and his open disgust with adam afterward leads to hazel (& again, salem by extension) essentially washing hands of adam's white fang at haven

"but the moment you put your desires before my own, they will be lost to you" <- this isn't true of hazel (he lies to protect emerald, salem intimidates emerald to make a point but does not hurt her) or cinder (salem doesn't stick to "she must be left to toil in her isolation" for long and cinder wins the power struggle in V8), but it IS true of adam, whose coup results in salem dropping him

so like… it seems pretty evident that salem would have preferred to work with sienna over adam which aside from the obvious ideological implications of that preference also… makes sense because, as you note, both sienna and salem are pragmatists motivated by change rather than wanton destruction.

i would also point out that salem's campaign is specifically against the huntsmen academies, with the kingdoms being collateral damage (grimm withdraw from vale but continue to hold beacon, in mistral she assassinated qrow's information network and targeted haven very precisely, her forces do not attack mantle or follow civilians into the subway), and atlas falls as a result of what ironwood does while salem is a smear of ash on the ground + by the time she reconstitutes the cities are almost completely empty. so i do think it's an open question whether salem intended for atlas to fall versus just not caring to save it from falling when she reformed in a doomed but fully evacuated kingdom.

which matters because if sienna were brought into the loop regarding what the academies are really for (i.e., safeguarding the relics for mankind's eschaton) i do think she would find working with salem to break the academies and retrieve the relics a fairly easy sell if salem gave her a compelling reason to believe that the ultimate plan is to build a new world--it is obviously not going to go well for the faunus if the human who controls those relics ever summons his gods back for the day of judgment and it isn't as though sienna's averse to violent tactics if she believes they will be effective in furthering her strategic end of a better world for the faunus. (salem not being human is also a potential point in favor)

#one of those 'they never met in canon but i think a normal amount about how they would interact' situations

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qphuikj · 4 years

Text

Quantum Phantasia

By Hui Kj

2019

CHAPTER 1

Oh, to be - and you do that of way and developing as that is what till the next bicycle. As I meditate on the bicycle’s heroin: it is too for two, and who are the flowers for? You dance around the source. Means of purpose - you have helped very much so. The impressions: the different words for different people - attention, a function could swerve to slur in a mind and latching discussion. Where does the wastefulness go? - bicycle construct theory, forgive me. The phrase my only stance, and you say it could change but all the same. Moon phase, eschaton questions to build; how are you laughing at absurdity? - what, which what for curiosity? A help out of discomfort: bicycle spirit for us. I am building on hills with hope for a share of collective insight thru times. Will you will again? We wield the bicycle as we must.

Daylight innocence - if we are talking - no matter what. Me: offering in aimless concrescence. You: just how you are. This is just how it is going to relay for one to imagine change in the bicycle’s modes: Forgive, it is just living, the shift is doing so, you find, and morning is of no dread for you against bicycle. The worst proclaimed and practiced all over in all’s habit anyway - have a good day. Many rushes of life, and nail it as Temple after our depiction - bicycle. Which genre superstition kicks in foreign ideals? To do good for free you say. Along the water to not be seen and covered by trees - there the mind. Pick your color, and foundation inspires - if that will not happen, then the atmosphere is home and our circle of earth offers a moment’s worth. Now, tell me how. We meditate with our palms and study a puzzling utopia of our own if you say, and here we are to learn in any way because it saved mornings, and I will introduce the royals when you hear the ring. For now explain to me your everything.

Okay, it is not wrong to not be right you mentioned - our common friend has not heard from me and I feel the distance: his season is star filled and the royals will lecture it. Ask about centered survival patterns to anyone. When the boundaries are devoured and the horizon is chased: pause for drama, a bicycle checkpoint would help. The royals will lecture gift formats like on how to look with purposeful heart. You know how it ends, but that is something else. Please, maybe tell me more.

Forgive me; you keep it divine - I wonder. You’ll find there is a nothing to worry - bicycle, but my conflict of purpose in a spinning world of the bicycle’s heroin. Note not my advice; introduce me to your family. There is balance in every way: now a drift going down hill. The royals will bless you; I told them your name. You have sprung my introversion, and it is still up to you - thank you.

When we imagine format way back when: think of where Skylar is. Now you have taught him endurance with just a few pokes you have longed to get acting for anyone but I say them as you do and Skylar is magnificent with a young shyness - the royals will lecture my faults and it is still up to you. Already so integrated, and us bailing him out of society from false justice in retrospect of a noble revolution, and he caught a cold early this year from meditating in nature any time; I’d like to invite him to the school sometime before we open. If you get tired: he knows about the bicycle. My addiction I will not pass on - he told us different and it was selflessly intriguing but of coming together in a great way all correct. By age and the royal’s blessing I am apt to leave you running till you get to your bicycle - tell me your color. With the colony we will build on the hill a foundation of shared intent; you include me and save when I fall. Somehow something will give us time - minds without mess. I walk into town to find you now: you invite me into your home - thank you. The first board meeting: the colony of color.

Not many have sat around: down on the couch here - you told me. You pull from your shelf a book of symbols and let me glance, and when I looked for ‘light’ you said think of an animal - flamingo on a bicycle. You told me to drink my smoothie but I stood up for the backyard in aimless anxiety. We sat for a cigarette like a picnic on the grass, and I am asking you now if we are like each other. You do not tremble when some things collapse - you are exciting. The jabs are not relevant to you, and that is how I will still learn even if a claim is registered in a difficult society.

Skylar’s symbols he latched and got going from your graceful mind’s intent - the common and expanding language we all seem to meditate on; he was sobered and contained in wicked culture for carrying equal concepts across structures. What we are bringing him to is the utopia of possibility that is seemingly aware and curious of: where it all goes right in finding truth - though mostly you are the celebration with him and that is all. To already knows how it ends with a path coming quick so soon. The royals will talk to you about color, and Family is in no way secret anymore but tell me more. You turn to Circles in the book and you mention a universe that is always a way. Forgive me. Now in moonlight, you pull out the couch’s bed and it is something like a bicycle. We know I can not sleep, and we are there itching our hair hailing music as meditation - thank you. Now you mention bicycle and we know we get disappointed: this selection you chose for purposeful misconfigure vibrations at daring risk atmosphere generally but we can swim thru. The royals make sense in time - they will see and they take interest. I still only offer my respects and absorb their wisdom - they ask about colony expansion and you know Skylar better than I.

In the morning you emailed your sister about what memory of mother together again - what bicycle do we meditate on? The heart in your family flows thru you too, and that is no surprise from how you tell me what you do about divine and honoring in honesty even when death shifts over loved ones - thank you for sharing and you show strength in heart - love, oh. Where do you want to start? You said your mother use to talk about architecture, which reminded me of a pressing bicycle errand that is a surprise for you, and I leave in swift with a secret glee.

It was your idea to open space for him and you visit him again now, and I begin a new test-module derived from collective intent and a mode against error-loss that you helped me see, and I talk amongst faculty on the hill about you and about what we will have - the royals want to be refreshed too; so thanks for giving me words. The opening debate for the students is youth direction, and it is of balance just as is: it is healthy to watch and latch onto any hoping minds - flamingo on a bicycle. Thoughts on diet and taking care of the land; the way to obtain insight even in difficult generation. So, I ask you about trusting in pulling streams or moving water of. You said: water and good. Skylar will split our joy and the royals keep asking about him too - please wish him a happy day there now in the middle of where you are in company. I will see you two hopefully soon.

Thank you for bringing the future to me for us. The surrounding culture pulls me at times, and yet the construction on the hill has shifted in color - I meditate on change. I pray to Spirit, but it does not need me to keep it alive at times I believe - there is more living for us and the values we are closing in on must be explained in depth to those troubled or even the ones who surpass our heart to prompt insight for each other with concepts developing that have and will keep us and even the universe alive, thanks.

One day we will marry Skylar of his own grand ideals - love his love, and I hope he will continue to develop endearment as some extraordinary surrender but also a departure from surrendering that you say he described with wholesome compatibility functions to prompt a productive family dynamic that will rest our feet when strangers come about, and the equality of common empathy to say all is family. Let me know if he is in love - bicycle heroin. I must see him more. You know how it ends; explain this to me.

I have had doctors try to kill me - bicycle. The caution - my flaw - is staring at cornerstone arena and itching my arm with aimless wonder against violence coming any second - to system relapse with error; but I make a life of this and shake it off. Bicycle absence: you know how it ends. We function far from wrath and will not meet it even if it is weak and able to collect spirits - the idea is that people will join in their own good will, and accept the wonder. The trace beyond the royals is Spirit’s bicycle and that is where their focus has been and mine merely sparked in a way not yet pointed.

To praise magnificent divine; we are coasting to the eschaton that is a singularity of purpose and climax. If you know how it ends, and Skylar and you discuss this: Invite me to the light, and we will tattoo identity in a way that is universally splendid. You tell me he reduces to applying a simple sacrifice consistently - what a celebration it could be. . . but you two know how it ends. Tell him I can not handle newer machines - our bicycle. He will get to the colors first - flamingo heroin.

The pressure for the academy: my time away from the knowledge transfers and exciting forms has made me a weaker spirit - caught up in routine schedule; bicycle heroin. Name the team - where does the mirror go? You are there now: what is his color? I owe life for how you fix what is falling - pride: dark and lonesome. Did you tell me your color?

Critique the colony’s hill - oh, never mind; not yet. At what angle will the motto fit? Never mind, we have not painted - the walls are up mostly. There will be a big picture: a tree on a boat; no, a flamingo bicycle on a straight path, no storm. You are telling me he likes me - what is my color? Let your office be the school’s library; but I know you are an outlet for me undoubtedly and will be for everyone of your gentle way with guidance and any of your maps of purpose will save many worlds. Yet, all I have is my bicycle heroin.

You tell me everything about the bicycle, and you say you found your color: you have become. How do you remain hidden in your everything? When you teach on intent you are relaying fruit. You told me one morning that Skylar has his own calendar precise to when concepts act out at last, all aligned to everything astrology: his example a youngling from the temple on her violin, then another when someone had a needed cry all of personality community. A colony of needed cries.

What color of shirt will Skylar wear on his first day? - flamingo heroin maybe. The sun will shine thru the school, and what purity is for our motto in your eyes? You say he teaches you on foundation to keep on; I miss you two. The hill, a climbing to monument. The royals asked about a meeting. When you consider family, is it learned or the meditation is on fire just because? As I walk where the garden will go, I know they all will feel safe. You make me feel safe against myself - what is Skylar saying to you now? - bicycle heroin.

The garden - Skylar: the beautiful wave. Maybe he will fall in love and flourish in color - the youth will find their purpose in the same world we live out in; this is home and I need you here. Your time with him is like a flamingo on a bicycle. We differ when I talk about my grey - you just wait with love and I am sorry. You will lecture against the bicycle and that is why I call you friend. Where there is growth at the temple, there will be a team here for us and they will build their own temples. The school is for the ones like Skylar, and I can not take a stance as some leader if you just whisper. Don’t you see I never fell in love again? - bicycle heroin.

When you look at me there is a point against nothingness. Never mind that; the royals will not have me - flamingo on a bicycle. The sky makes me pause, and Skylar makes me think of blue; what about blue? You root for the establishment but your mind is my dream. You freely give, and I am frantic against comfort. You dance around the source and I am a jealous man - bicycle. Skylar meditates on what haunts himself, so sure - my personal value is slipping away in ignorance of direction; just on the hill waiting. If he is suspicious of me, that is what makes him right - bicycle heroin.

Skylar is in love in many ways - all so personal and in divine bicycle that strikes my heart when I can only place something on a desk in a mess as he benefits only in selflessness. I am merely a harbinger somehow appointed to allow you thru and up to carry a miracle that is the boy that cripples me but will live on for eternity in the eyes of the one’s who never felt the love that you two revive to develop - thank you, from a flamingo on a bicycle.

You say he has new symbols, and I merely meditate on his spirit already. The rain now erases the dash of sorrow when one knows the garden is glowing - will you not come sit with me and tell me your everything? The colors and lack of colors is what will save me today. When there is not a wait, and the world bicycles around a subject: should one not let the self fall away? The difference between us is that you are integrated and the framework always seems to be in need of you from over here. Though, this is not a school - with ones like Skylar this is an infinite colony and there is nobody of credit besides the options that ask of each other. The bicycle heroin is how we are opened.

With the garden’s colors in the rain: I thank you. You teach me the mind’s piano. Could you ask Skylar what his love language is? - in some years there will be his name carved into a step with me long gone as the color will still keep him still somehow. He already makes me wonder where I will be when he saves the world. Tell me softly how you sweep me away - oh, never mind that. You say you want to teach poetry - so, thanks. Wherever you are: take care and take your time. A flamingo on a bicycle.

CHAPTER 2

It is understood in a beguiling and troubling way to think that your infinity of medicinal and mere inspirational ideals have spiraled against you - impossible as it seems, you say it is so, and when you get out of the hospital I will be here with open arms, or hidden away in shame: it is up to you, but I will feel ashamed and feel deeply with only empathy all in all. Last week you gave me a drawing of a flower and I passed it onto the royals - bicycle.

There is only a longing from me a guidance for you that gets found sooner than a life lived unhappy. Your sister wrote to the school this morning and stated that you will not be here tomorrow to teach - the young ones will paint you up wonders and that is a great thing. She is only your step-father’s daughter, and Skylar will visit you thrice a week. I am against the day - could it be your old lover? The redhead who could never look you in the eyes. I know you loved your mother.

When love was happening in a past register of myself, what it was is not what it is - a heart will transform, yet I do not know if your heart has become dark or dull. The only optimism relevant is a source from you, in me for me - and I may be responsible in a way even if you just feel empty. Your mother knew what you needed, and your sister remains family still. If it is anger: give me your anger, and it can just be fine that way if there has been an injustice that I am suspicious of. I go to your office and you are not there. Tomorrow I attempt to teach poetry with an open approach calling for participation.

If you see error in me I will set fire to spectacles unknown in pure focus of what it all could have been - I am sorry. In a way this is virginity - like, what is this? The only bicycle for me is the one to you but that is not your bicycle I see now: wow. You challenge me like a man should - Skylar is infinite and you know his color. If you see the moon thru your window then let yourself heal. If you have bad faith in me than I will change my name and bother none no more - flamingo.

I register you passive but as an endless placer with a collective mission: the social study away from the people besides your to me at times and with your very special Skylar. He is outgoing and will meditate on love than put into action the purpose and potential it possesses but not all can see - you make me see. The issue is that I have become dependently obsessed with how your rainbows curve and I look up in awe to a promise. You do feel for me in a way that I may have difficulties sorting - the hate for myself is drifted away, like today in your initial poetry class. Everyone has only praise for you, and I spark on that spark because I want you to be happy in all.

He is a powerful leader - all around the faculty is the excitement of a genuine beautiful mind. Skylar makes insightful comments in class and he approaches the teachers directly with a pressing concern on the general morals and functions - for example, in art history he knows whether the focus is on mood, religion, or vanity. There was joy in my heart when I found him seated in the garden. Even if he has the power to rule and is of justice to find the faults and may then kill me with a word: that is of my own ordeal and he will save the world with a palm of grace and youth stretched out and up.

The more you are away: the more I do not fear death. For as I am family, the bicycle is at home with yours left beside it - all here for anytime. My voice does not catch up to you in any space - the emotion derived from your innocence and splendor leaves me quite tired; tho who was I before? - flamingo on a bicycle.

There are no flaws found in you two in any frame and time only shows an interesting depth - like my grandma is dying of old age and light is the answer. It is Sunday and I am going into town to see her as well as you in following for this evening. She is 100 years old and the nursing home faculty have to feed her water with a spoon daily - she is 75 pounds and sleeps for days at a time. The old men nod, and the women chat about their families. The morning glowed thru the windows and it was quiet. Her hands are cold; my families warmth far away - my best is in sorrow and grey.

My grandmother was a photographer - specifically nature-wildlife spectacles. The light was in the creatures no matter where the light stayed or went; the moment would freeze for an eternity all in all - bicycle as her collection developed. On her mirror there was a picture of my grandfather, her sisters, my parents and her young in the desert with a red hat on - just heroin. Her breathing is slow, and her skin frail. When death kisses she will transition and look down on me: guide me and I will meditate on this moment for when family brought me to brokenness in a way and my heart fluttered.

The walking in the weather - still bicycle in my mind. With age in gratefulness: meditate on how it is as it is until there was the strangest feeling. My mind starts to race no matter how it is - something is not right. The sounds carve outward and a feeling of doom rushed over me. There is just a repetition of piercing feelings that seem all too deadly. Any moment and anything - an error and a confusion prepare me for nothing but an entanglement: bicycle panic. Down the road the people are moving about; the eyes were too good at seeing me, and as I stumble into the hospital I wonder if I will join you.

The doctor tapped his pencil while squinting at me with question. I completely forgot I have not slept in 3 days. He wrote me a prescription for bicycle heroin and that is what you are on in the room a couple hallways away. The doctor said you have made improvements and will be discharged tomorrow afternoon. He also said that your sister will be here, and when I entered your room I knew you would not be apt to teach by the look on your face. You are not wearing a shirt, your legs are shaking, your gaze at a wall, and unbearably lifeless with the same sorrow and doom I feel. I go to your desk with the books, the comb, the medicine, and I look to the mirror and say hello but you do not move in the slightest.

Neither of us were meditating but you were still. I made little paces around the room and you stayed gazing at the floor. There were other patients throughout the hallways and you started to take off your socks which made my eyes frantic. Your defeated voice puzzled me - something is not right. I want to pass you love messages but the window shuts out the light and suddenly you speak: I am addicted.

I sat next to you and sobbed on your shoulder - what is wrong? You kept staring at the ground and your breathing slowly deepened and see how I follow you in everything? What is wrong? You stand up and go to the door to close it and as your turn towards me: a hysterical broke out and you fell to the floor like a possessed pig. I rubbed my eyes and could not look away. I have never seen a more sad person as I started to shift back to normalcy. You looked very unattractive and embarrassingly disturbed to the point where I just stepped quietly out, signaled a tech, and walked out like I never knew you - and I never did.

The open-neighborhood-park was empty and I sat with a cigarette mildly numb and aimless with the bicycle script tried. It feels like a new year and I want to change. The grass was plush and my body felt as a golden stream sinking into itself. No troubles bothered me and life was being lived and death could happen but it felt nothing like I used to feel. The cigarette was a spectacle and shifting bicycles never had me suspicious; the school is a masterpiece and my jaw dropped thinking about the 45 students with promising artistic insights in their current bicycles and the one’s that will bloom after a storm. This mere moment of distraction painted me blue.

Up the hill, past mid-day: a lady of royalty stood on the front steps with her arms crossed and with a tapping foot - something is not right; mere dim blue. She waved me inside and pointed to my office where another woman who was pregnant had her head in her own lap weeping on the floor; my door open. The mother was shaking and would not look up until I stepped down beside her - she pointed into my office and resumed in pain. To my surprise there was Skylar at the chalkboard already turned towards me with a defeated, blue aura and bandages on his wrist. The words on the board read: ‘I am me.’ - over and over until he was out of room. I was horrified. He went for his mother to lift her up: the two sat down across from my desk as I raised my hands of confusion and as he puffed his chest smiling, the boy speaks tragedy…..

His love is love…..

The scars will tell but heal…….

Family will comfort him……

Dignity thru chaos in his mind……

Monarch, no…….

When they left he handed me a note: I wept in doom with all variations of hope plummeting, dragging me into the dull core of the earth.

You defiled hope! Oh, to be the imprinter disease source - you coward! I hate you! You have kidnapped light for your circus! Hideous, demented fool! Diseased, pitiful armadillo demon! You have had enough heroin! You have wasted your whole life, snake! Only a child!

Ladybug Finale - by Skylar Peterson, for Dr. James

My love will not change, but the range from rays In rage

River mother, another brother in the cage - mage one day with my dear mate

The world changed: New love and a mouse dance

Five years her and a holiday glance dance and paint pants in a health trance

I did not keep what he said, and I gave up being dead

Brother whispers out ‘bless the wed’s beds’

And I shout:

I will be happy…..

You will be happy….

She weeps, but still sassy

And they can still laugh at me - any day in a way

All family anyway at this next Sunday

fin

RSVP - Mr. and Mrs. Peterson / Sunday @ 5th Royal Manor 7 o’clock

Note:

In the end it is blue. The colony placed as a new place; the headmaster an old friend known from temple in my early days back there - Al, he is noble and speaks many languages and inspired me to find peace. Lately, psychology has framed a resting way with active meditation on types of types again and has become my life. With my home outside of Amsterdam I take a couple patients and teach religions at the local school three classes a week. The simple things matter to me: neighborhood cats near the back shack, apples picked from a tree, poetry, and the bicycle heroin that never let me love again - to be the mouse on the mice trap by a laughing, old, sad sad man.

contact: [email protected]

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