The mayor's missive:
___________________________
Now, you've got to understand I've been here a long time.
I've got my desk by mind/my window. OK, the window's plastic,
but you can still get a good idea of what's
going on outside.
I'll tell you what's going on outside...NOT
MUCH. That's what's going on.
And then Hank showed up...about five
weeks ago... I pretty much
had to take him in. No one else had the room
or the inclination...He's one of those people
who most other folk dislike on sight...
And the poor fool was too
stupid to get in out of the flies on his own...
So...
Anyway, I'm used to the place and
my life is in some kind of weird equilibrium
which I do not want any fool to fuck up.
So...
Some idiot is throwing off the
equilibrium.
I hear a noise across the bunker floor,
as if some large rodent is scratching away...
It turns out, of course, it's Hank:
"What are you looking for, you moron?" I ask him.
"Never mind," he says.
"I DO mind - you sound like the Global
Village rats... that used to climb up and down
a wire basket by my head..."
I"m looking for the MEANING!"...Hank says
to me.
"OH, oh...", is what I said.
"Do you think the "Meaning" is more in that
corner... than it is anywhere else?"
I ask him...
There was no answer.
All I could see is the strobe-like flickering of
those nasty yellow candles with black flecks in them...
Whoops.... now there's only one.
It's almost dark now. That's fine with me.
You get used to the dark up here... 24 hours a day with
no electricity... After a while you get to like the dark.
I mean, what choice do you have? What choice do any of us have?
The first couple of years were rough. But after
the 2nd year of unrelenting darkness, I got to like the
dark... The only place with light is Artie's (elegant) Bar And
Grill... now all he has is those yellow candles and a
blowtorch.
"I'm looking for my book on basic philosophy.."
says Hank.
"What's basic philosophy?" I ask him.
No sounds for fifteen minutes...once again... no light.
No interruptions in my train of through (which has
stopped being a "train" three years ago....) Now my
thoughts are more like fireflies on a balmy
evening somewhere around the 49th parallel.
( Please don't tell anybody
we ever had this conversation. )
"Well, this Basic Philosophy" book
starts off with one statement..." Hank says.
"?" I ask.
It says: "EITHER DO THIS, OR YOU'RE FUCKED!"
"Ha!" I laugh,... "That's not a bad start...
I think I like this guy... what's the author's name?
Can you read it?"
"Kuntz" Hank replies.
"So you're crawling around on your hands and
knees naked in the corner looking for Kuntz?" I ask
him, trying not to snigger.
"That's just about it," Hank says
I'm reading this guy KUNTz.
"I'll bet you are!" (Har! HaR!)
Another 15 minutes of silence passes between us.
"Makes perfect sense to me." I snicker.
"Wasn't 'Kuntz' the guy in "Heart of Darkness"
by Conrad... or "Apocalypse Now" by whojamacallit?"
No answer from the rat frantically flipping pages
in the corner of the dark bunker, corner by the headboard
of his bed... headboard that doubles as a dartboard when
we have light... right now scrabbling in the locker
in the corner - sounds like three rats, or Godforbid!...
One Big Weasel...!"
I can hear Hank panting heavily out of breath
in the dark... work on all fours is harder than it
looks... believe me, I know. I am used to all sorts
or Sordo-Circumstatial - stuff beneath the awareness
of what most people want to look at!
(????) Whether sleeping or awake. I have done shit no one even wants to dream about in his weirdest hour... let alone actively pursue in the twilight of semi-consciousness. (????)
(I have no idea what that last statement means.
But it has a certain ring to it, so I had to leave it in.)
Maybe, this is what Kuntz means when he
says, "Do it my way, or else...."
"Or else what?"
"Or else die motherfucker...." Is that it? If so,
you got to give the man credit.... if you're going to
waste your time with rational thought...
it's best to do philosophy with all the menace
you can 'mount'(word?)... manage...ministrate
All the menace you can muster!
Dear Lord, that's not the end of this story, is it?
___________________________
Now, you've got to understand I've been here a long time.
I've got my desk by mind/my window. OK, the window's plastic,
but you can still get a good idea of what's
going on outside.
I'll tell you what's going on outside...NOT
MUCH. That's what's going on.
And then Hank showed up...about five
weeks ago... I pretty much
had to take him in. No one else had the room
or the inclination...He's one of those people
who most other folk dislike on sight...
And the poor fool was too
stupid to get in out of the flies on his own...
So...
Anyway, I'm used to the place and
my life is in some kind of weird equilibrium
which I do not want any fool to fuck up.
So...
Some idiot is throwing off the
equilibrium.
I hear a noise across the bunker floor,
as if some large rodent is scratching away...
It turns out, of course, it's Hank:
"What are you looking for, you moron?" I ask him.
"Never mind," he says.
"I DO mind - you sound like the Global
Village rats... that used to climb up and down
a wire basket by my head..."
I"m looking for the MEANING!"...Hank says
to me.
"OH, oh...", is what I said.
"Do you think the "Meaning" is more in that
corner... than it is anywhere else?"
I ask him...
There was no answer.
All I could see is the strobe-like flickering of
those nasty yellow candles with black flecks in them...
Whoops.... now there's only one.
It's almost dark now. That's fine with me.
You get used to the dark up here... 24 hours a day with
no electricity... After a while you get to like the dark.
I mean, what choice do you have? What choice do any of us have?
The first couple of years were rough. But after
the 2nd year of unrelenting darkness, I got to like the
dark... The only place with light is Artie's (elegant) Bar And
Grill... now all he has is those yellow candles and a
blowtorch.
"I'm looking for my book on basic philosophy.."
says Hank.
"What's basic philosophy?" I ask him.
No sounds for fifteen minutes...once again... no light.
No interruptions in my train of through (which has
stopped being a "train" three years ago....) Now my
thoughts are more like fireflies on a balmy
evening somewhere around the 49th parallel.
( Please don't tell anybody
we ever had this conversation. )
"Well, this Basic Philosophy" book
starts off with one statement..." Hank says.
"?" I ask.
It says: "EITHER DO THIS, OR YOU'RE FUCKED!"
"Ha!" I laugh,... "That's not a bad start...
I think I like this guy... what's the author's name?
Can you read it?"
"Kuntz" Hank replies.
"So you're crawling around on your hands and
knees naked in the corner looking for Kuntz?" I ask
him, trying not to snigger.
"That's just about it," Hank says
I'm reading this guy KUNTz.
"I'll bet you are!" (Har! HaR!)
Another 15 minutes of silence passes between us.
"Makes perfect sense to me." I snicker.
"Wasn't 'Kuntz' the guy in "Heart of Darkness"
by Conrad... or "Apocalypse Now" by whojamacallit?"
No answer from the rat frantically flipping pages
in the corner of the dark bunker, corner by the headboard
of his bed... headboard that doubles as a dartboard when
we have light... right now scrabbling in the locker
in the corner - sounds like three rats, or Godforbid!...
One Big Weasel...!"
I can hear Hank panting heavily out of breath
in the dark... work on all fours is harder than it
looks... believe me, I know. I am used to all sorts
or Sordo-Circumstatial - stuff beneath the awareness
of what most people want to look at!
(????) Whether sleeping or awake. I have done shit no one even wants to dream about in his weirdest hour... let alone actively pursue in the twilight of semi-consciousness. (????)
(I have no idea what that last statement means.
But it has a certain ring to it, so I had to leave it in.)
Maybe, this is what Kuntz means when he
says, "Do it my way, or else...."
"Or else what?"
"Or else die motherfucker...." Is that it? If so,
you got to give the man credit.... if you're going to
waste your time with rational thought...
it's best to do philosophy with all the menace
you can 'mount'(word?)... manage...ministrate
All the menace you can muster!
Dear Lord, that's not the end of this story, is it?
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