7/16/10

and he wakes up and makes coffee and comes down to the bunker and out to the beach where everyone has split but nancy.

hey, she says.

hey, he says.

waking up? nancy says.

yup, he says.

so, nancy says, where we at?

i seriously don't know, he says.

well, nancy says, we appear to be sitting on the beach of the island watching the waves and thinking of things to amuse ourselves with.

but, he says as he farts, few would be amused by that.

fuck them, nancy says.

and he goes up to poop and to eat some yogurt.

but they're the ones who control everything, he says.

but they too busy fighting among themselves to pay attention to anything else, nancy says.

i don't know, he says. some of the rhetoric seems directed right at us.

all they can do is come have us taken out and shot, nancy says.

or just taken out and left to die, he says.

maybe, nancy says.

should i be scared? he says.

there's a lot of people who would say you should be, nancy says.

i think that's what's making me crazy, he says. i don't want to go through that again. once was enough.

as long as your fortune holds out, nancy says.

whatever, he says.

so, nancy says, we were discussing everything.

everything can kiss my ass, he says, and then go to hell.

that's one way of looking at it, nancy says.

i'm kinda fed up with all these clowns on this planet, he says.

they refuse to co-operate with your demands, nancy says.

i just want them to leave me the fuck alone, he says.

and pay your way and support you, nancy says.

that doesn't take much, he says. i can live on very little.

but that's just a little too much, nancy says.

i suppose it is, he says.

no one's interested in if you live or die, nancy says.

i suppose, he says.

and those who might care are powerless to do anything about it, nancy says.

as the world is overrun by assholes, he says.

as it has always been, nancy says.

but don't they know who i am? he says.

and who are you? nancy says.

i am i because my little dog knows me, he says.

but you don't have a little dog, nancy says.

i am that i am, he says.

you and everybody else who can say that, nancy says.

i suppose, he says.

you are no one special, nancy says. you're just a common bum.

everybody can be reduced to that, he says.

that's why they climb over each other's backs to rise above, nancy says.

while those on the bottom get pushed lower and lower, he says.

it's gotta be somebody, nancy says. it might as well be you.

i suppose, he says.

but the gods may smile on you still, nancy says.

they either do or don't, he says.

all the worry in the world won't change it either way, nancy says.

and one certainly can't appeal to those fuckers, he says. they just laugh.

and he goes up for an onion bagel and cream cheese.

and he'll need to go out and get cigarettes in awhile.

out in the world with people and everything.

all the meaningless dada of it.

for now he has a couple of tokes.

and he goes up to piss.

and all this is according to our theory, nancy says.

of course it is, he says. our theory is everything we might imagine it to be.

everyone should have a theory like that, nancy says.

they could if they chose to, he says.

but do any of us have any real choice about anything? nancy says.

one has a choice about imagining what goes on in one's head, he says.

not always, nancy says. sometimes the program is too strong and one cannot break free of it.

that's unfortunate, he says.

that's all we have to say about that? nancy says.

what would you have us say? he says.

gazorbnik, nancy says.

when in doubt, he says, gazorbnik.

besides, nancy says, all you did was follow your program of being someone who's crazy.

yeah, he says. that's pretty much about it.

so, nancy says, you really haven't freed yourself at all.

not one iota, he says. i'm just following the tracks.

to crazytown, nancy says.

to bumville, he says.

to oblivion, nancy says.

the outer darkness, he says.

learn to forget, nancy says.

learn to be forgotten, he says.

so, nancy says, should others go through this sort of self examination?

i'm not sure, he says. i suppose it depends on the person. some people may not need to.

but you did because you were crazy, nancy says.

i was just trying to figure out how and why, he says.

and ended up talking about everything with a bunch of imaginary people in your head, nancy says.

i couldn't stop myself, he says.

you compulsive fiend, nancy says.

i seem to be, he says.

and selfish and greedy on top of it, nancy says.

i can never have enough for myself, he says.

no one ever can, nancy says.

but i'd rather have too little and not enough than too much and not enough, he says. it's much easier this way.

many find it liberating, nancy says.

many find it frustrating, he says.

as we find it amusing, nancy says, being both liberating and frustrating.

yeah, he says. fortunately for us.

as he sits before the computer bewildered.

he smokes a cigarette.

and he wonders about his bewilderment.

how do the others do it?

they are so involved in the world like he never was much interested in.

it's as if it is a dream – a crazy dream.

like galaxies in a sunbeam through the window.

is dust a bad thing? nancy says.

dust? he says.

would there be dust in heaven? nancy says.

maybe not, he says. dust means decay. there is no decay in heaven.

so there would be no galaxies in a sunbeam in heaven, nancy says.

that doesn't seem right, he says.

no, nancy says, it doesn't.

and he goes up to piss.

but nevermind heaven, he says. we are not interested in heaven - nor hell.

we are only interested in our amusement, nancy says.

and there is an abundance of things we find to be amusing, he says.

like what? nancy says.

tree frogs, he says.

and why are tree frogs so amusing? nancy says.

because they exist, he says.

and what else? nancy says.

tesseracts, he says.

why tesseracts? nancy says.

because they don't exist, he says.

no? nancy says.

only as we imagine them, he says.

really? nancy says.

no one's measured one, he says.

i guess, nancy says, but they mathematically construct them.

all imagination, he says.

and he goes out for cigarettes.

and he decides to go up and make an avocado swiss red onion sandwich.

and now he needs a nap.

he decides to go up and lie down awhile with his baby.

they wake up and he makes coffee while his baby goes to pick up the kids and take them to their dad's.

have a nice nap? nancy says.

splendid, he says. my favorite part of the day.

i thought so, nancy says. that's because you're depressed.

apparently so, he says, i was prescribed anti-depressants.

trust your doctor, nancy says.

and he goes up for more coffee.

and he farts.

so, he says, it continues.

and what do we learn from it? nancy says.

that it's all meaningless dada? he says.

all meaningless dada that we rise above with our imagination, nancy says.

into realms of delusion, he says.

if that's what it takes, nancy says.

it would seem so, he says. we've been deluding ourselves our whole history and probably beyond.

one get rich quick scheme after another, nancy says.

all that leaves the others destitute, he says.

it's what happens in a free-for-all, nancy says.

those with the biggest sticks, he says.

and those who command them to follow orders, nancy says.

keeping the rest of us down, he says.

the masses of those who can't get their act together, nancy says.

i never had an act, he says.

you have your crazy act, nancy says.

right, he says. but i don't know if that counts as having it together.

probably not so much, nancy says. but you've got it down to an art.

i suppose, he says.

and he goes up to poop.

and his baby comes home.

and he has a couple of tokes.

and adam and steve show up and sit with them in a circle.

hey, they all say.

so, steve says, where we at?

just being here now, he says.

and babbling meaningless dada, steve says.

meaning is subjective and relative, he says.

meaning is universally absolute and eternal, adam says.

that is what many believe with their theories, he says.

but our theory holds that everything is true, nancy says.

even that which contradicts one another? adam says.

especially that which contradicts one another, nancy says.

it makes the world go around, he says.

it makes the world crazy, steve says.

yeah, adam says, who can trust who?

who can trust themselves? he says.

oh my, nancy says.

so, adam says, does gazorbnik contradict itself?

contradiction is the mainspring of gazorbnik, he says.

and gazorbnik is the driving force of everything, nancy says.

everything gazorbniks? adam says.

as hungrily as it can, he says.

like it is a starved animal, nancy says.

consuming, he says.

digesting, nancy says.

shitting, steve says.

and consuming again, adam says.

let's not forget fucking, nancy says.

let's not forget experiencing the orgasm of the universe, adam says.

from particles to galaxies exploding in euphoria, he says.

and us between, nancy says.

watching the fireworks, he says.

sitting eating popcorn in the theater of the absurd, nancy says.

the burning theater, he says.

where the whole world is a stage, adam says.

and us in a cast of billions, steve says.

the star of our own movie, he says.

where we know what is definitely the truth, steve says.

unless we are confused, he says.

we are not confused, nancy says. we have gazorbnik to fall back on.

when in doubt, he says.

aren't we always in doubt? steve says.

one should be, he says.

that's the only way all the contradictions make sense, nancy says.

they do? adam says.

if one takes into consideration their sometimes violent opposition to one another, nancy says.

yes, adam says. i understand.

and the world is where they all take their stand, he says.

it's the only thing that's happening, steve says.

that we know of, he says.

all in a war that can never be won unending, nancy says.

a storm on an otherwise calm sea, he says.

while we sit here amused by everything in play around us, nancy says.

until it becomes dangerous, he says.

it's always been dangerous, steve says.

that's what makes it the more amusing, nancy says.

i suppose, he says.

but you have battened down the hatches and holed yourself off from it, nancy says.

it's scary, he says.

you'll soon see scary, nancy says.

yes, he says, i know.

so, steve says, we're just goosestepping along.

whoever thought that looked cool? adam says.

someone out of their mind, steve says.

goo goo ga-joob, nancy says.

besides, he says, i can imagine the world going crazy enough on my own. i don't need to see it up close and personal.

but you might, steve says.

yes, he says, i know.

so, adam says, this is what gazorbniking is like.

it would seem so, he says.

seems easy enough, adam says.

as easy as sitting in the shade with a lemonade, steve says.

that's us, he says.

all while others are in misery of pain and suffering around us, nancy says.

we've been through all that, he says, and arrived at no workable conclusion.

except to become all the more amused, steve says.

how can we do something as cruel as that? nancy says.

easy, he says. we gazorbnik.

great, nancy says.

and he goes up to piss and to take his meds.

so, adam says, what do we have to say for ourselves now?

we are such fools, he says.

what else do we need to be? nancy says.

flaming geniuses, he says.

all of us together barely make a brain, steve says.

yeah, he says, that seems to be it.

and we're all going to crazytown, nancy says.

yes, he says, we are.

the world is going to crazytown, steve says.

yes, he says, we are.

yippie, nancy says.

i thought the world was crazytown, adam says.

it will be, he says.

or not, nancy says.

that's the thing about our theory, he says, it can be proven wrong at anytime.

that's the thing about any theory, adam says.

that's the thing about any absolute truth as well, steve says.

but it all continues anyway, nancy says.

flowing balance confrontation with one another, he says.

all in the whole gazorbnik of everything, adam says.

something like that, he says.

all in the meaningless dada of everything, steve says.

to each their own, he says. whatever one can imagine that works.

whatever keeps that mad god laughing and screaming at the void in one's head at bay, nancy says.

yes, he says. there is that.

as we are dreaming, nancy says.

we don't know that we're not, he says.

like it matters either way, steve says. it's meaningless dada whichever.

it's all up to however one chooses to perceive it, he says.

he wonders if he's hungry enough to make a sandwich.

he does need to go up and piss.

and he comes back down with a swiss and tomato sandwich.

and could this be more of nothing? steve says.

but, he says, everything is nothing.

or, nancy says, is it nothing is everything?

right, he says. a little different spin with that.

something from the positive end of things, nancy says.

like that matters, steve says.

it doesn't need to matter, he says. it only needs to be amusing.

right, steve says.

and he has a cigarette and goes up to go to bed.

he wakes up and makes coffee and comes down to the bunker and out to the beach where adam and steve have split and nancy remains.

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

you awake? nancy says.

barely, he says.

well, nancy says, drink up that coffee and let's get going.

sure, he says. i'm on it.

so, nancy says, where we at?

still living in the world of light and shadow, he says.

as always, nancy says. what about it?

anything can happen, he says, from good to bad depending on one's fortune.

and some are more fortunate than others, nancy says.

that seems to be the case, he says.

and yours is going from better to worse, nancy says.

it could be happening that way, he says. i don't know. i have no way of knowing.

one often does not know until it's too late, nancy says.

that's the way of the world, he says.

yup, nancy says.

so, he says, until then one keeps oneself amused.

yeah, nancy says. keep oneself deluded.

if that's what it takes, he says.

and who isn't deluding themselves? nancy says.

i'm sure there are many who feel that they are not, he says.

but the world itself is a delusion, nancy says.

as some would have it, he says, according to their theory about it.

it's all created to keep god from slipping back into the void, nancy says.

as it laughs and screams at the possibility of it all, he says.

one can hear it inside one's head, nancy says.

and it sucks us all back in with it, he says.

the end, nancy says.

yeah, he says. it was fun while it lasted.

but it really wasn't all that much fun, nancy says.

it is if one likes excitement, he says.

which you don't, nancy says.

i like things dull and boring, he says.

well, nancy says, this is certainly a fine example of that.

and he goes up for more coffee.

i find this to be exciting enough, he says.

but we don't do anything but sit around and talk about shit that ultimately is meaningless dada, nancy says.

but that's what i like doing, he says. what else is there to do?

go out and have adventures, nancy says.

let the others have all the adventures they want, he says. i'm done with that. but i'll be here to wait for their return and to tell me all about it.

yeah, nancy says, everybody has stories to tell.

i love to listen, he says. i'm everybody's biggest fan.

but you hate people, nancy says.

only when they interfere with me, he says. as long as they leave me alone i'm ok with them.

and support you, nancy says.

yeah, he says, that too.

and he goes up for more coffee.

but there are those who would put an end to that, nancy says.

there seems to be, he says. they're beating their drums about it and gathering support.

it may be a matter of time, nancy says.

oh well, he says. not much one can do about that.

not much one can do about anything, nancy says.

but we keep trying this and that and the other thing, he says, and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't.

and sometimes we only do harm to ourselves in the process, nancy says.

i've done that in my time, he says.

i know you have, nancy says. that's how you became shipwrecked here.

so, he says, it all works out for the best.

for a few, nancy says, who happen to have good fortune.

and one can do nothing about those for who don't, he says, except watch them go down.

and that's happening all around the world, nancy says.

until it happens to oneself, he says. and one goes down while others stand around and turn their backs not wishing to witness it.

it brings up their own fear about themselves, nancy says.

everybody's hanging by threads, he says.

it's a tenuous existence, nancy says.

that's why god is laughing and screaming, he says.

what do we do with a mad god? nancy says.

what can we do? he says. it is what it is.

but there are other gods we can appeal to, nancy says.

the gods will do as they will depending on how it amuses them, he says. they will us good or bad fortune at a whim.

so, nancy says, we're fucked.

yeah, he says. we can imagine this or that or the other thing but the reality of it breaks through it all.

the reality of it being that it's all meaningless dada, nancy says.

that seems to be the bottom line, he says, no matter what we may delude ourselves with otherwise.

even the gods must come to terms with that, nancy says.

that's why they set up the world to distract themselves from it, he says.

even for them it's a tenuous existence, nancy says.

an eternal tenuous existence, he says.

at least for us it has an end, nancy says.

that's the good news and the bad news, he says.

yeah, nancy says, pretty much.

and he goes up for more coffee and to poop.

so, he says, we amuse ourselves while we can.

though sometimes we're being torn to pieces, nancy says.

the world is always constantly creating and destroying us, he says.

that we can count on, nancy says.

and we either survive through it or we don't, he says.

that would seem to be the case, nancy says.

but we are always constantly asking ourselves why it must be this way, he says.

and we've come up with any number of answers, nancy says.

all delusions of our imagination, he says.

yes, nancy says. they would all appear to be.

but that is our nature, he says.

yes, nancy says, it would seem to be.

conscious beings caught in the absurdity of our own consciousness, he says.

that's a dark way of looking at it, nancy says.

it's a realistic way of looking at it, he says.

and there's no way out, nancy says.

but it's such a joy, he says.

so, nancy says, hold your head up.

right, he says.

so, nancy says, what do we have for those reading this for their amusement?

nothing but troubling thoughts, he says.

are we troubled? nancy says.

the human race is troubled, he says.

and we can offer no solution, nancy says.

we can only share our delusions, he says. and one can do with that as one pleases.

to laugh at us and our foolishness, nancy says.

or take some of it into their own delusions, he says, as we have done from others.

and it all goes around and around, nancy says.

down the drain, he says.

yes, nancy says, that vortex of the void within it all.

but here we are now, he says, surviving as we will or won't.

we keep on keeping on, nancy says.

spreading the news, he says.

the news about what? nancy says.

i'm not sure, he says.

what can we possibly have to say that others haven't already thought of? nancy says.

i can't think of a thing, he says. we are the most ignorant of all.

and yet we continue, nancy says, despite it being meaningless dada.

but there's a chance it might not be, he says.

and there's a chance pigs will grow wings and fly, nancy says.

we imagine our own meaning on it, he says.

and we hope that it's true, nancy says.

that's how we maintain our sanity in the midst of the insanity of it, he says.

we maintain our sanity by deluding ourselves? nancy says.

how else is one supposed to keep oneself going? he says.

i don't know, nancy says. but none of it is real.

we make it real in our heads, he says.

and that's sanity? nancy says.

it's as close to it as we're going to get, he says. what else is there?

there is what is real, nancy says.

what is real is the void, he says. and according to our theory even god couldn't face up with that.

if our theory has any basis in what is real, nancy says.

it's as real as we can imagine it being real, he says.

but there is no hope, nancy says, if that's the highest consciousness we might be able to attain.

that's what the world is for, he says. for us to dive into again and again to experience and to amuse ourselves.

i suppose, nancy says. if that is what we are doing.

according to our theory that is exactly what we are doing, he says.

then one just accepts that and finds the groove of it and digs it, nancy says.

what else do we do? he says. we can sit around and gaze into it with wonder and dread until we are eventually pulled into it and are gone.

but for many that would be the best alternative, nancy says.

it is an option, he says. if that is what one is amused by.

whatever floats one's boat, nancy says.

i feel that it is what's happening and going to happen anyway, he says. why think about it until then?

yes, nancy says. why not delude oneself with something amusing and enjoy this while it lasts?

that's exactly what we are doing, he says.

and that is what we are hoping to provide for others, nancy says.

whatever we can, he says. but this may not be it for any but a few.

and he goes up to piss and to take his meds and maybe eat some yogurt.

and he makes more coffee for his baby who's getting up.

this ongoing not-poem continuing through the madness of it.

and as far as he can tell of his observation of the world all these years of his sweet short life everyone is mad.

and for some they can make their madness work for them and for many others not so much.

all the despairing people in the world of pain and suffering.

and there are those who offer hope.

but hope requires faith.

and faith is delusion.

and delusion is madness.

so it turns full circle on this wheel we are on.

and for him there has been nothing but doubt.

doubt is his faith.

but it has brought him low.

to the ground.

beneath the ground into a grave waiting for it to be filled in and for him to be forgotten.

that seems to be all that is left.

that is what seems to him to be real.

hiding down in the bunker afraid of the world around him.

and that seems to be where people would like him to stay out of their way of running the world.

running it into the ground as much as he can tell.

but what does he know?

he has always been told that he knows nothing.

that probably is true.

he doesn't claim to know anything but what he has put together from his imagination.

all his own delusions about whatever.

his own madness in a world going mad.

but maybe that's not how it is.

how does he trust his own perceptions?

he has been told he is not quite right in the head often enough.

he has been told he has to set himself straight and get with the program.

the program that seems to be marching all together in a grand parade that has nowhere to go but around in circles all around the world.

marching off to war.

hail victory.

power to the people.

long live the revolution.

and all the other mantras they chant to themselves to keep it all going.

while he sits in the shade with his lemonade.

he is their biggest fan.

he loves to see them go.

as he observes and reports.

as he writes it all down the best he can.

as he posts it for the amusement for others to enjoy if they will.

if they are so inclined.

but there is no need.

he amuses himself and that is all it needs to be.

as he marches around in his own parade waving his common ordinary freak flag burning.

so, nancy says, you having fun basking in your madness?

as long as it's all pretend, he says. but when it becomes real then it's not so fun.

no, nancy says, i wouldn't imagine that it is.

but it's real for so many, he says.

don't worry about them, nancy says. let them worry about themselves. you hate them all anyway.

but i wish no harm would come to them, he says.

that's very altruistic, nancy says, but goes nowhere.

so, he says, to hell with them?

that is where they seem to be going, nancy says. and of their own free will whatever that may be or not.

probably or not, he says. we are programmed by nature and conditioned by nurture into being automatons.

automatons believing they are making choices on their own, nancy says.

perhaps, he says.

it hardly matters, nancy says. it's just a point of ages old philosophical debate. no one cares but them.

i suppose, he says.

and he goes up to piss.

and he has a couple of tokes.

so, nancy says, everything is hunky dory.

to itself maybe, he says. but i doubt even that.

why shouldn't it be? nancy says.

it keeps changing all the time, he says.

maybe that's how it's hunk dory, nancy says, in a state of constant change.

one would think if it was hunky dory it would be at rest, he says.

and one may think wrong, nancy says. change is life. rest is death.

i suppose, he says.

all being created and destroyed in a single moment, nancy says.

in a moment eternal, he says.

that's just the time it takes for everything to happen for once and for all, nancy says.

yes, he says. imagine that.

we are imagining that, nancy says, according to some theories.

including our own, he says.

does our theory state that? nancy says.

among other things, he says. some of which stand in direct contradiction with one another.

as the way it should be, nancy says.

according to our theory again, he says. and again with that included in with our theory in contradiction.

yes, nancy says.

and carla and frank and jane show up and sit with them in a circle with jane leashed beside nancy.

hey, they all say.

so, frank says, what's happening?

everything, he says.

that's obvious, frank says.

but not many think of it, he says.

and should they? jane says.

why not? he says. they might find it amusing.

but some might find that thought disturbing, nancy says.

then they don't need to think it, he says.

besides, nancy says, that thought is only theoretical.

like that matters, frank says.

no, he says, it doesn't.

so, carla says, have we made any progress about peace, love and understanding?

not so much, he says.

i thought we gave up on that, jane says.

it will come with the revolution, frank says.

isn't that what all revolutions promise? carla says.

but this is the real true revolution, frank says.

and isn't that what all revolutions claim? he says.

but this is it, frank says.

and what is it? he says.

it is all that we are doing, frank says.

and what is it we are doing? he says.

imagining it, frank says.

but everybody is doing that, he says. and they all each have different ideas of what the revolution will be that many of which are in contradiction.

just like our theory, frank says.

i guess, he says.

our theory is the revolution, frank says, and the revolution is our theory.

that's quite a statement, he says.

it's the statement for the moment, frank says.

the moment eternal, nancy says.

until it comes to an end, frank says.

or both, he says.

or neither, nancy says.

right, he says.

the possibilities are endless, nancy says.

but the probabilities are not, frank says.

until they are reduced to the point where they are almost certainties, he says.

and thus the real world, nancy says.

the real world that is constantly changing, he says.

and always creating new possibilities, nancy says.

and it all goes around again, frank says.

oh well, he says.

oh boy, jane says.

and he goes up with his baby to move some stuff around in the garage and bring down some shelves.

so, carla says, what does any of this have to do with peace, love and understanding?

nothing, he says, and everything.

then what's the point? carla says.

we've stated before that the point of everything is for our amusement, he says.

but i'm serious, carla says. if it doesn't result in peace, love and understanding then what good is it?

that's what the revolution is about, frank says.

and evolution too, nancy says.

but there's no way it can be enforced, he says. it must come about on its own naturally within each of us.

that's what the awakening of the christ is all about, nancy says.

that's what gazorbnik is all about too, he says.

and he has another toke that leaves him coughing.

so, carla says, it's gonna happen?

we'll just have to watch and wait, he says.

i suppose that's better than nothing, carla says.

it's all we can do, her says.

hope for the best, nancy says, and doubt the worst.

but i have no doubt, carla says. it will happen.

whatever you want to imagine, he says.

isn't gazorbnik about imagining the best thing ever? carla says.

it could be, he says. but the best for you is not the best for everyone else.

but it is for many, carla says. maybe even most.

maybe, he says. but there will be others who would be violently opposed to it.

yeah, frank says, and on down that line to its obvious conclusion.

until we are in a well-defended walled garden, he says, surrounded by warring tribes or something like that.

and either would be paradise to someone, frank says.

so it's win/win, carla says.

it could be, he says.

so, jane says, we just watch and wait?

someone will be watching and waiting, he says. there always is.

watching and waiting for the revolution, frank says.

some would be watching and waiting for that, he says. others just watch and wait for whatever reason no matter what.

sort of like us, nancy says.

sort of, he says.

we don't watch and wait for anything, carla says, we just watch and wait.

it's what we do, he says, for as much as we can get away with it.

we're getting away with it so far, nancy says.

yup, he says.

and then adam and steve show up and sit with them in a circle.

hey, they all say.

so, steve says, where we at?

watching and waiting, carla says.

for what? adam says.

for the hell of it, nancy says.

and our amusement, he says.

cool, adam says.

yeah, steve says, count us in.

but what are we watching? adam says.

everything, he says.

that's a lot to watch, adam says.

we watch what we can of it, he says.

but so much of it gets by us, carla says.

nevermind that, he says.

but it might have been something important, carla says.

perhaps, he says.

everything is important, adam says.

yes, he says, it is.

and his baby watches her tv and he slips into pandora.

and he goes up to piss.

and what do we do in the meanwhile? adam says.

we discuss it all as always, he says.

wonderful, steve says.

then i write it all out in a report and post it for anyone's perusal, he says.

which they may or may not be amused by, adam says.

they will react as they will, he says. some will be turned off and some will be turned on.

who knows? frank says.

not us, adam says.

certainly not, nancy says.

so, steve says, what are we discussing now?

everything, he says, as usual.

we're sort of like the aliens, adam says. watching and waiting.

but we don't abduct people and give them anal probes, carla says.

we could, steve says.

but people would go to the police, adam says.

but there aren't any police on the island, frank says.

there's police everywhere, steve says.

then people would form an angry mob and come and get us, adam says.

with torches and pitchforks, steve says.

just like the old days, adam says.

just like in the movies, steve says.

so, he says, no abductions and no anal probes.

just a thought, steve says.

i thought it was a good one, jane says. i was ready to do it.

it'd just be a joke, steve says.

by doing harm to another, carla says.

yeah, he says, we're trying to avoid that.

we can imagine it though, steve says, right?

if one so chooses, he says.

what one imagines is free to oneself, nancy says.

if one is free to imagine, he says.

and how is one free to imagine? carla says.

gazorbnik, adam says.

that's one way, he says. others may for other ways.

to imagine oneself attaining godhead, frank says.

and finding no one home except a god going mad laughing and screaming at the void in one's head, he says.

or finding nothing but waves of peace, love and harmony, carla says.

that's what most seem to believe happens, he says.

but we know better, adam says.

it's only what we imagine, he says.

what else can we imagine? nancy says.

we can imagine whatever we want to, adam says.

not necessarily, he says.

within the limits of our limited consciousness, adam says.

our ape brain, frank says.

breaking open like a cracking egg to be hatched as a new creature on the earth, nancy says.

maybe, he says.

i doubt it, steve says. sounds like dogma doo-doo to me.

it is our dogma doo-doo, he says.

that explains the smell, steve says.

this is all our dogma doo-doo, nancy says. every word of it.

believe or die, steve says.

or not, nancy says.

these are the reciting of our thoughts, he says, nothing more and nothing less.

our thoughts tend to go around in circles, nancy says, that's all.

like the wheels of the universe, he says.

like the waves on the beach, nancy says.

like anything one might care to imagine, adam says.

it's all at one's command, nancy says.

right, he says, if one has command of oneself.

but you don't have that, nancy says. you're as confused as fuck.

i have gotten myself free enough to imagine, he says.

imagine confusion, steve says.

i do all the time, he says.

and trying to figure it all out, steve says, driving yourself mad in the process.

it a living, he says. and one that i personally enjoy.

it's not for everyone, nancy says.

certainly not, he says. only by trained paid professionals.

we are them, steve says.

right, he says.

and he goes up to lie down with his baby.

and he can't sleep so he gets up.

and maybe it's his new meds.

the last prescription for antidepressants wired him up like speed.

what a jumbled mess this is, jane says.

just as it's supposed to be, he says.

what do you want written by some crazy person? frank says.

yeah, jane says, what was i thinking?

what are we all thinking? adam says.

a bunch of meaningless dada, steve says.

and it goes on and on, frank says.

like the waves on the beach, nancy says.

if it were that simple, he says.

what's so simple about waves on the beach? steve says. they're far more complex than we might imagine.

in that sense nothing is simple, he says.

no, steve says, it's not. that's why it becomes meaningless dada.

but still we can sit here and simply enjoy the waves coming in and going out again, he says.

and he goes up to take his meds.

and his baby is waking up.

we get bored with simple things like that, steve says.

yeah, adam says, there's only so many waves a person can watch and then one begins to wonder about shit.

like, what the fuck is everything? frank says.

like, what exactly are these waves one is watching? adam says.

and one is thinking and thinking and thinking, frank says.

and then the confusion sets in, nancy says.

delightful and terrible confusion, he says.

could it be anything else? nancy says.

not that i'm aware of, he says.

a confusion of meaningless dada, steve says.

what other sort of confusion is there? he says.

but one cuts through it with gazorbnik, adam says.

or one learns to enjoy it with gazorbnik nancy says.

if we only knew what gazorbnik is, steve says.

yeah, he says, that does seem to be our main problem with it.

but it can mean anything, adam says.

and that renders it meaningless, steve says.

which makes it mean anything we want, he says.

and around that circle we go, nancy says.

and he decides to go up and go to bed.

he wakes up and makes coffee and comes down to the bunker and out the beach on the island where the others are gone and nancy is at.

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

you awake yet? nancy says.

no, he says.

well, nancy says, i guess i'll have to talk to you in your sleep.

ok, he says.

so, nancy says, what should we talk about?

i don't know, he says, i'm asleep.

well, nancy says, i suppose we should talk about everything as usual.

i suppose, he says. but i've got nothing.

yeah, nancy says, i don't have much of anything either.

so, he says, what do we do?

well, nancy says, you just drink your coffee and wake up. we'll think of something.

like what? he says.

like tesseracts, nancy says.

why tesseracts? he says.

they're funny, nancy says.

yeah, he says. ha ha ha. but they're an integral part of the mind shift/ship.

that's going to whisk you away in the nick of time, nancy says.

lots of magick is gonna happen, he says.

you don't know that, nancy says.

i have a feeling, he says.

all based on some bad acid trip, nancy says.

yeah? he says. so?

i wouldn't give it that much credence, nancy says.

hey, he says, the doors of perception and all that.

just some hippie lingo dada, nancy says.

it's as real as one imagines it, he says.

well, nancy says, i still wouldn't believe in it too much.

i have my doubts, he says.

as you should, nancy says. it's gotten you this far.

yeah, he says, wherever that is.

we're now here, nancy says.

nowhere, he sys.

yeah, nancy says, that too.

and there a spoon that is not a spoon, nancy says.

there is always that, he says. one of the mysteries of the universe.

and rugs and ashtrays, nancy says.

don't forget the tree frogs, he says.

no, nancy says, not that. not ever. they're so cute.

all this collected stuff in my head that means nothing, he says.

let confusion reign, nancy says.

as it always will, he says.

not with all, nancy says. they are those who are very tightly organized.

yeah, he says, it's a plague upon the earth.

but look at all the wonderful things they've done, nancy says. like indoor plumbing.

when we were sitting up in the trees we didn't need indoor plumbing, he says. we just pissed and shit wherever. it didn't need to be organized.

the good old days, nancy says. back before we ate of the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil.

and we've been trying to get back ever since, he says.

and we keep fucking things up all the more, nancy says.

it would seem that way, he says.

and he goes up for more coffee.

so, he says, what does all this add up to besides meaningless dada?

whatever we want it to add up to, nancy says.

the best thing i've been able to come up with is a god who is going mad creating a delusional universe to keep itself from facing the void.

and that's worked out ok, nancy says.

i suppose it has, he says, except it could be better.

like how? nancy says.

a little more peace, love and understanding would be in order, he says.

that time may come, nancy says. let evolution take its course.

but everything is shadowed by doubt, he says.

you need to balance that with hope, nancy says.

i do, he says, sort of. hope for the best and doubt the worst.

and one gets by somehow, nancy says.

or not, he says.

yes, nancy says.

but all of this is less than nothing, he says.

one could see it that way, nancy says. or it could be more than everything. it depends upon each individual's perception of it.

i suppose, he says.

we need to turn people on, nancy says.

but turn them on to what? he says. we got nothing that hasn't been said before.

yeah, nancy says, these are pretty old themes we're running ourselves through.

party discussions for a bunch of stoned sophomores, he says.

that's about what it amounts to, nancy says.

and most people get over it and move on with their lives and actually do things, he says.

good for them, nancy says. and what have they got to show for it?

big houses, he says. fast cars. big screen tvs.

oh boy, nancy says.

and they leave the rest of us with nothing, he says. sometimes without even scraps from the table.

it's a cold cruel world, nancy says.

yeah, he says. ain't nothing one can do but fend for oneself as best one can.

there'll always be those who are left out, nancy says.

the poor you will always have with you, he says.

and the few who try to help them, nancy says.

yeah, he says. i've always counted on that.

but there are so many, nancy says.

and there are those who feel that they should just be left to die, he says.

that'd solve the problem, nancy says.

but they'll always be more, he says.

probably, nancy says. but we can't do anything about that so why talk about it?

but we can't do anything about most of the stuff we talk about, he says.

true enough, nancy says. but we have to talk about something.

i like rugs, he says, but i hate carpet.

but carpeting is a sign of luxury, nancy says.

i prefer hardwood floors, he says. it's more real.

i guess, nancy says.

so, he says, it all continues to continue.

like the waves on the beach, nancy says.

as scary as that is, he says.

scary? nancy says.

it sometimes scares me, he says. not knowing which or what the fuck.

it's all a gamble, nancy says.

i'd rather not get into that, he says.

but you have no choice, nancy says. every decision you make is a roll of the dice. even whether to go up and get another cup of coffee or not.

and he goes up for more coffee.

i just don't understand this world, he says.

why? nancy says. it's very simple. it doesn't mean anything.

i think it's more the people i don't understand, he says. all the things they do.

it means something to them, nancy says.

i don't understand what any of it might mean, he says, besides being a denial mechanism.

that denies what? nancy says.

the futility of it all, he says.

then we would all just lie down and die, nancy says.

i guess, he says.

let them have their amusements just like you have yours, nancy says.

i suppose, he says.

and your amusements still amuse you, nancy says, don't they?

for what they're worth, he says. meaningless dada.

you've got to stop wallowing in that, nancy says.

but it's what's real, he says. all else is delusion.

one can realize that and still find meaning in things, nancy says.

there's things i've given meaning to, he says. things others would find to be quite worthless.

that way they won't take them away from you, nancy says.

yeah, he says. they steal everything else.

until all you have is your mind, nancy says.

a mind going crazy, he says.

crazy to them, nancy says.

that's my only commodity, he says, my madness. and it goes pretty cheap.

those who are mad are a dime a dozen, nancy says.

if that, he says.

yeah, nancy says. there's always more people who are mad lined up trying to get in.

yup, he says.

and he goes up to piss and to eat some yogurt.

so, nancy says, why do we always have to talk about madness?

it's what's happening, he says.

but it all seems so clear to me, nancy says.

that's one of the symptoms, he says.

but it's all a social construct about who's mad and who's not, nancy says.

madness is socially created too, he says, born into the fabric of the home and family.

we are what we are forced to eat, nancy says.

yeah, he says, something like that.

and he goes up to take his meds.

and adam and steve show up and sit with them in a circle.

hey, they all say.

so, steve says, where we at?

talking about madness, nancy says.

this whole thing is mad, steve says.

not really, he says. it's just perceived as being mad.

same difference, steve says.

i suppose, he says.

consciousness is madness, adam says.

yes, he says. there's an argument for that among some.

consciousness struggling against the void, steve says, creating illusions to keep itself amused and away from that awareness.

but that awareness keeps bubbling up into our consciousness no matter what, he says.

spin, baby, spin, adam says.

i just don't get it, he says.

i don't know, nancy says. it seems to me you get it just fine.

but it all becomes meaningless, he says.

as is its nature, nancy says.

what is one to do, adam says, but just make things up that make sense to oneself and give one meaning?

like you're doing with this not-poem, nancy says.

yeah, he says, like the human race has been doing since forever.

but some of the things people make up are pretty twisted, adam says.

to each their own, steve says.

yeah, he says, especially now when truth has been debunked. now everything is up for grabs.

and we discover god has been mad all along, adam says.

but not really mad, he says. god is an artist.

but aren't all artists mad? adam says.

they are often seen as such, he says. but they have the gift of creativity.

it think god was just bored, adam says. what is there to do in the void without even spacetime to move around in?

i think it's all pretty fantastic, he says. what a complex vision of pure beauty the universe is.

with all its ugly parts included, steve says.

that just makes the beauty more beautiful, he says.

it makes me want to dance and sing and fall down and laugh, adam says.

why not? he says.

and they all get up and dance and sing and fall down and laugh.

life should be celebrated, nancy says.

but some celebrate it by doing harm to others, he says, for their own amusement.

if there was just some way around that, adam says, the world wouldn't be half bad.

we have tried in various ways to get rid of it but it keeps rearing its ugly head, he says.

some say we need to be more disciplined, steve says, others say we need to be more free.

and here we are right in the middle not knowing who's right and who's wrong, adam says.

sitting on a fence, he says.

until someone comes and knocks us off to one side or the other, steve says.

then we are in the fray of it, he says, being pushed and shoved around like everyone else pushing and shoving.

the comedy of errors, steve says.

the error of comedy, he says.

that too, steve says.

what a world, adam says.

i wonder if other worlds have these types of problems, nancy says.

or maybe they're more ideal, adam says.

our world is the cesspool of creation, steve says. it's where the other worlds flush all their shit and garbage while they enjoy paradise.

that is our conception of what needs to happen here, he says. throw everything and everyone that displeases us into the bottomless pit.

and by magick it goes away, adam says.

until the pipes clog and back up, steve says, and it all comes up in their pretty face and all over their dancing shoes.

but it's what we all want, he says, though we have different opinions as to what and who to throw away.

it calls for tolerance, adam says.

and that will never happen, steve says. there's always something someone won't tolerate.

we wouldn't tolerate people doing harm to others, he says, if we had the power to enforce it.

but jesus will come and save the day, adam says.

everybody's personal jesus, he says.

so, adam says, we're saying there is no hope?

not as we are, nancy says. we must be transformed into a new creature on the earth.

evolution is the only solution, he says, if there is to be any at all.

we'll be able to get over ourselves, nancy says.

perhaps, he says.

and he goes up to piss.

we spread the word of gazorbnik, adam says. that'll help.

for those who get it, he says. but many will not.

but maybe there'll be enough who do who will turn the tide, adam says.

we can watch and wait, he says.

i have my doubts, steve says.

gazorbnik allows one to imagine everything, he says. once that is realized it will radically change everything about us.

we need to get people free within their own heads, adam says. then that desire to harm others may leave them.

the awakening christ, nancy says.

as good an idea as any, he says.

everything else has failed us, adam says.

this'll probably fail as well, he says. there's no reason why it should be better than anything else people have come up with.

but we have to try, adam says.

yes, he says, we do.

though it is doomed, steve says.

you're always the one with the cheery thought, he says.

just trying to keep our feet firmly on the ground, steve says.

yes, he says. that's probably a good thing.

but let's say gazorbnik does get spread around somehow, adam says, what does it do for anyone?

it turns them on, he says.

turns them on to what? steve says.

it turns the light on inside their head so they may see things clearly, he says. it is only then that they are able to judge this and that and the other thing as to what they really might be besides our desire for and fear of them.

but that would be frightening to a lot of people, steve says. they have things in their heads they'd rather not see.

we all have that, he says. we've all been beaten up and denied by the world. but gazorbnik will allow one to overcome that and become clear.

and if gazorbnik can't do that? steve says.

then one must find another way, he says. gazorbnik is not universal though there is no reason it couldn't be.

so, adam says, what is the goal?

to become free enough and comfortable enough with oneself to become amused with oneself, he says. all other things will follow from that.

yeah, steve says, the contempt of the others, steve says.

one will endure many hardships along the way, he says.

that's enough to turn people off right there, steve says.

but people endure hardships along the way anyway, he says. why not endure them for something that might do one some good?

but it's all too iffy, adam says. people want something concrete.

and they want it now, steve says.

if gazorbnik is understood properly, he says, then it becomes very concrete. it becomes the most concrete thing ever.

it becomes real? adam says.

gazorbnik defines and shapes reality, he says.

how? adam says.

through the imagination, he says.

that's treading thin ice, steve says.

yes, he says. one can break through and become hopelessly lost in one's madness.

it always comes back to madness, nancy says.

it's not so much what the others may think if one is mad or not, he says, but when one doesn't know for oneself.

and do you know? steve says.

i sometimes wonder, he says. but if i am or not i am quite content with whatever.

and amused, nancy says.

yes, he says, and amused.

and one becomes amused with gazorbnik, adam says.

that's what it's there for, he says.

gazorbnik is everybody waving their freak flag high burning in the field of flags, nancy says.

and everybody dancing and singing and falling down and laughing, adam says.

yes, nancy says, like that.

life as constant celebration, he says.

as it could and should be, nancy says.

if only, he says.

if only what? adam says.

if only it was real, he says, instead of something we're just making up.

but everything we do is just something somebody just made up, adam says.

i doubt gazorbnik will be a hit sensation, steve says.

yeah, he says, me too.

it's pretty much only what everyone is doing already, nancy says. we're all seeking that promised land in some form or another.

but it's all here now, adam says.

in this messed up world? steve says. i don't think so.

it's where one's head is at, he says.

and it's what one might imagine, nancy says.

imagination is the key to gazorbnik, he says.

imagination is the key to everything, nancy says.

everything we wish to imagine, he says. it's all ours for the taking.

and how does this lead to peace, love and understanding? steve says.

but not everyone wants that, adam says. there are those bent on war, hate and confusion.

and all the yin/yang of it, he says.

and as we remain in the middle of it as much as we can and keep it all in balance, nancy says.

the balance out of balance, he says. teetering and tottering this way and that way and the other way.

and let the others fight over the rest of it, steve says.

that seems to be what will always be the case, he says. there are those of us who just try to stay as far from that as we can.

but sometimes it comes looking for us, steve says.

or just bumbles into us, nancy says.

it doesn't matter if it's intentional or not, steve says, the result is the same. we are wiped out.

but there will always be others taking our place, he says. those who figure it out for themselves.

and that is what we leave this behind for, adam says. to turn people on to doing just that by our example.

and it is an example, he says. it's not a blueprint. one should do it for oneself in whatever makes sense to them.

but, steve says, we run into that problem again of there being those to who killing is what makes sense.

all we can say is that that is not gazorbnik, he says. that's obeying one's inner darker self one has failed to bring to the light to see exactly what it is as opposed to what one imagines it to be with one's desire and fear peering through the darkness.

but killers we shall always have with us, nancy says.

yes, he says. along with everyone else.

so, adam says, where does this leave us?

with the same meaningless dada as before, steve says.

i don't find it meaningless, he says.

no? steve says.

not with gazorbnik, he says.

but gazorbnik is meaningless, steve says.

not to me it's not, he says.

then what does it mean? steve says.

that is what we have been explaining, he says. one needs to infer what we imply.

but who will do that? steve says.

there will be some, he says. and maybe others along the way.

and maybe someday everyone will gazorbnik, adam says.

maybe not gazorbnik exactly, he says, but something very similarly close to it.

whatever it's called doesn't matter, nancy says. as long as it frees us to ourselves.

whatever that means, steve says.

but some people don't want to be free, adam says, or are frightened to be.

they cling to whatever appears to them to be solid, nancy says.

yeah, he says, until they are forced to let go.

many would go mad, adam says.

it'd be the best thing for them is they did, steve says. the grass is greener on the other side.

if they make it, nancy says. many will not.

oh well, he says. not much we can do about that except spread the word of gazorbnik.

the cure for all one's ills, adam says.

pretty much, he says. if one allows it to be.

or, nancy says, find something else that'll do the same thing.

but beware of the mass produced, he says. all the supposed one-size-fits-all answers one then has to twist oneself into shapes to fit in with.

homegrown is best, adam says.

yup, he says.

but isn't gazorbnik one-size-fits-all? steve says.

gazorbnik is adaptable to anyone, he says.

and anyone is adaptable to it, nancy says.

and gazorbnik will solve everybody's problems? steve says.

those that are self-generated, he says, yes.

outside sources can't be helped, nancy says. but gazorbnik can help how one responds to them.

with amusement, he says.

if possible, nancy says.

or a complete freak out if not, he says.

either/or, nancy says.

yup, he says.

and he watches a baseball game for awhile.

then he goes up to piss and get some coffee left over from the morning.

ugh.

so, steve says, nothing changes.

not so much as i would know, he says.

then what's the point of gazorbnik if not to change anything? adam says.

who said gazorbnik had a point? he says.

the point is for us to be amused, nancy says. and i for one am quite amused by talking about something as absurd as gazorbnik.

yes, he says, that's the point.

so, adam says, gazorbnik is a joke?

it could be, he says.

not a very funny one, steve says.

i think it's hilarious, nancy says.

yeah, he says, especially for those who don't get it.

that would be nearly everybody, steve says.

but what's to get? adam says.

nothing, he says.

i don't get it, adam says. i thought we were actually talking about something real.

something imaginary, nancy says.

as real as one imagines it, he says.

or more so, nancy says.

and he goes up to piss and take out the recycling.

so, he says, i'm at this point where i can't tell what's really happening or not. i don't know if things i see are actually real and they cause me anxiety or that if i feel the anxiety and see things as real that actually aren't.

it's a tough call, steve says. it could be either way.

i think a lot of people have that problem, nancy says.

it could be, adam says. that would explain a lot.

yeah, he says, it would.

but who thinks about that, nancy says. they all believe what they see is real and maybe it is and maybe it's not.

what do you see? steve says.

oh, he says, just the world ending and shit like that.

that's not real? adam says.

not necessarily, he says.

and certainly not the way we're imaging it, steve says, with all this evolution revolution business.

one never knows what's possible and what's not, he says.

probability knows, steve says.

what was the probability that we would have evolved as we did out of some little rodent thing running around or even less than that? he says.

yeah, steve says, i suppose there is that.

so, nancy says, why not into gods?

i suppose it could happen, steve says. though doubtful.

everything is doubtful, he says.

except for gazorbnik, adam says. it's for certain.

maybe the only thing that is, he says.

i doubt that, steve says.

self-denial mechanism, nancy says.

right, he says. everybody has one.

or two or three, nancy says.

or 6 or 9, he says.

right, nancy says.

so, steve says, what exactly are we saying about gazorbnik?

one cannot say anything exactly about gazorbnik, he says. it is very mysterious and obscure.

it's secrets are hidden in code throughout this text, nancy says, for those mysterious and obscure enough to use them.

use them with one's imagination, he says.

it unlocks all the doors except one, nancy says.

which one? adam says.

the back door, nancy says.

why not that one? adam says.

it's for authorized personnel only, nancy says.

and who's that? adam says.

all the angels and demons that dance in one's head, nancy says.

on the heads of pins? adam says.

sure, nancy says, why not?

is this what people call pseudo-science? steve says.

this is metaschizophrenic science, he says.

with some non-linear propulsion thrown in too, nancy says.

that's what powers the mind shift/ship, he says.

i thought gazorbnik did that, adam says.

forget gazorbnik, he says.

oh, adam says. ok.

and him and his baby order some food delivered.

and she watches her tv while he digs pandora.

is there a method to this madness? steve says.

there could be, he says, but it would be highly irrationalogical.

yes, steve says, it would be.

so, adam says, why are we trying to explain it as if it were rationalogical?

hence our madness, he says.

huh? steve says.

exactly, he says.

so, adam says, anything goes?

as it always has, he says.

or not, nancy says.

there are rules to follow, steve says.

what goes up must come down, he says.

exactly, steve says.

and then carla and frank and jane show up as jane sits leashed beside nancy.

hey they all say.

what's up? frank says.

we're following the rules, adam says.

what rules? frank says.

the rules of order, he says.

fuck that, jane says.

right, he says.

and he goes up to lie down awhile

and he wakes up and takes his meds.

so, carla says, are we taking this seriously?

of course not, he says, that would not amuse us.

and we take our amusement very seriously, nancy says.

just keep playing those mind games together, he says.

pony, carla says.

rock salt, steve says.

with penumbra unfurled she slipped back into the circus tent, jane says.

and the funny clowns climb out of their tiny car and fuck the bejesus outta her, adam says.

like liquid drops of acid on our tongue, nancy says.

all ready to explode into urinals of desire, frank says.

mammary glands, steve says.

stink butt, jane says.

and he goes up to piss.

and he has a toke or two.

so, carla says, how's our theory of everything going?

swimmingly, he says.

any conclusions about anything? frank says.

the point of it is not to reach a conclusion, he says.

no? frank says.

it just makes it that much more confusing, he says.

and he goes up to go to bed.

and he wakes up and makes coffee and goes out to the island to the beach where everyone else has split and nancy is at.

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

so, nancy says, you awake?

working on it, he says.

so, nancy says, what sort of madness should we contemplate now?

everything is madness, he says.

yes, nancy says, it is.

so, he says, what about it?

well, nancy says, i guess there's really nothing about it.

yeah, he says, we just go on with our meaningless dada on and on about it.

yeah, nancy says, i suppose that's all we do. but aren't we still amused by it?

what else can we hope to be but amused? he says.

yeah, nancy says, whatever it takes to get us there.

and for some it means doing harm to others, he says.

i'm not sure how amused those people are, nancy says. i think it's more a matter of them being deeply troubled within themselves.

it could be, he says. nothing a bit of gazorbnik couldn't fix.

if only that were true, nancy says.

it could be, he says. one never knows until one has tried.

but how do we get them to try? nancy says.

we have a revolution, he says, and we force feed it to them until they straighten out and fly right.

i don't think that would work, nancy says.

probably not, he says. they would resist.

and, nancy says, we'd be imposing our will on theirs. our revolution should be about free choice.

but gazorbnik will liberate them from their desires and fears so they could make that free choice, he says.

it's a dilemma, nancy says.

well, he says, there ain't gonna be no revolution so the point is moot.

the revolution must be spontaneous within each of us, nancy says.

the spontaneous combustion of gazorbnik, he says.

something like that, nancy says.

and he goes up for more coffee.

but, he says, it could happen.

it already is happening, nancy says.

we can only hope so, he says.

so, nancy says, does gazorbnik bring us into one mind?

not necessarily, he says.

there are some people who are afraid of that, nancy says.

they won't be once gazorbnik gets hold of them, he says.

but how do we get it to do that? nancy says.

we send out the vibration of gazorbnik out on the psychic airwaves, he says.

but those airwaves are jammed with negative thought, nancy says.

gazorbnik can cut through all that, he says, like a diamond bullet between the eyes.

the great awakening of the christ within us, nancy says.

the great awakening of ourselves within us, he says, unhampered and free.

we have so many chains upon us now, nancy says.

that is what people have become used to and believe it is part of themselves, he says.

they won't easily let go, nancy says.

not unless there is something else to hold onto, he says, that they would see as being more in their best interest.

and that would be gazorbnik, nancy says.

right, he says.

but gazorbnik is such an intangible thing such that it barely exists, nancy says.

that's how it manages to worm itself into one's head and takes over, he says.

just by reading the word gazorbnik one is infected, nancy says.

gazorbnik is a thought bomb, he says.

ka-boom, nancy says.

yeah, he says, instant enlightenment.

if only it were true, nancy says.

we can pretend it's true, he says.

a lot of good that'll do, nancy says.

if it amuses us, he says, then it's done its job.

if we could get it to amuse others as well, nancy says.

that's what we are trying to do here, he says, with all that we are doing.

all of this is gazorbnik? nancy says.

it could be, he says. who knows what gazorbnik actually is or not?

who knows what it is possible for it to do or not? nancy says.

one just needs to find the groove of it, he says, and dig it.

and then pass it on to turn on as many others as possible, nancy says.

the gazorbnik revolution, he says.

deep underground, nancy says.

while the powers that be are sleeping, he says.

but they are ever-awake, nancy says. they are constantly on guard against this sort of thing that might undermine them.

but gazorbnik is undetectable, he says. it's disguised as some made up word by some crazy old guy collecting checks from the state.

they'll never know what hit them, nancy says.

not until it all crumbles down around them, he says.

the death of the old world, nancy says, and the birth of the new.

the year zero, he says.

mark one's calendar, nancy says.

all the calendars will be tossed away, he says. it will always be now from then on.

yes, nancy says, a glorious day will be upon us.

and a terrible one as well, he says. all will be lost.

it's the end of the world as we know it, nancy says.

and we feel fine, he says.

and we need to get as many of us on the other side of it as we can, nancy says.

we are them, he says.

yes, nancy says, we certainly are.

and he goes up for more coffee and to piss.

so, he says, what more needs to be said?

there is always more to be said, nancy says.

like people torturing and killing babies, he says.

there is that, nancy says. one must consider everything - even the worst of it.

and some revel in it, he says. they cannot get enough.

and some are repulsed by it, nancy says, they avoid thinking about it.

but one in balance can gaze upon it all and be amused, he says, because one knows it all adds and subtracts into nothing.

according to our theory, nancy says, which could be proven to be wrong at any moment.

if anyone understands it enough to refute it, he says.

who would bother? nancy says.

people with nothing better to do, he says.

but we would welcome that, nancy says. anyone who could prove us to be wrong and offer something better to replace it.

but would they offer something better? he says. or would they only come to tear our theory down and then leave it?

there is that possibility, nancy says.

and then we are left to pick up the pieces and begin again, he says. it would be up to us to offer something better.

but for most, nancy says, it will be far easier and waste less of their valuable time to just ignore it.

yes, he says. and we are counting on that.

we are? nancy says.

our message is hidden within a bunch of crazy talk that'll be dismissed as such by many, he says. that's how we slip it by them unnoticed.

our message? nancy says. what is that?

our message is clear to those who are paying attention, he says.

but i don't even know what our message is, nancy says.

i know, he says. it's better that way.

oh, nancy says.

and he goes up to take his meds.

the whole thing is secret, he says, even to ourselves.

but you know what it is, nancy says, right?

i haven't a clue, he says. it all works in mysterious ways.

so does everything, nancy says. at least we have yet to discover the mystery of it as much as we have uncovered so far.

we search within and without and have come up with nothing but more and more meaningless dada, he says.

which we refuse to accept is the answer, nancy says.

it is a condition of the answer, he says. it is the foundation of the answer.

i can dig that, nancy says.

one must lose it all to gain it all, he says.

that causes most people some concern, nancy says.

it'll rock their comfortable world, he says, and shake them up and shake them down and sideways.

scary, nancy says.

it's a scary process, he says, but ultimately for the good.

for those who make it through, nancy says.

yeah, he says. it won't be everyone.

that's unfortunate, nancy says.

yes, he says, but who will care about that as long as they're one of the ones who make it?

and brief moment of silence for those who have fallen, nancy says.

and then let the party begin, he says.

while everyone dances and sings and falls down and laughs, nancy says.

it could be like that, he says.

but we have our doubts, nancy says.

there is always doubt, he says. that'll never leave us.

even when it's proven to be wrong, nancy says.

but this'll be what everyone has been looking for, he says.

all within their heads, nancy says.

and that which will change their perception of the world, he says.

it'll be a kinder gentler place, nancy says.

it could be, he says, if people just allow gazorbnik to do its thing.

which is what? nancy says.

that's part of the mystery of it, he says. no one will know exactly what gazorbnik's thing is.

they'll just read it and think it's nothing, nancy says.

just more meaningless dada, he says.

right, nancy says. but to their surprise it'll transform them.

according to our theory, he says.

well, nancy says, let's hope this works because there does seem to be anything else that's going to.

we can only throw it out there and watch and wait, he says.

if we're wrong, nancy says, then we're wrong.

no harm done, he says. and it has amused us for the while.

yes, nancy says. it certainly is doing that. i am highly amused by it.

yes, he says. and we can only hope others will be too.

we can only do what we can with what is available to us, nancy says, which isn't much.

yeah, he says. me having imaginary conversations with imaginary people inside my head that i transcribe and post it on a website lost in the noise of it all that maybe someone might happen along and actually read.

there could be someone, nancy says.

it'll still work if there is or isn't, he says.

in some mysterious way, nancy says.

right, he says.

so, nancy says, that sounds like a plan.

it's the only one we got, he says.

a magical plan, nancy says.

a mystical magical plan, he says.

i wonder how many people are gazorbniking already as we speak, nancy says, without even knowing that's what they're doing.

there could be any number, he says. this is not really something we are initiating but what we are observing and describing what's happening.

we just are spreading the news, nancy says.

right, he says. news that many will already know about.

it just takes being tuned into it, nancy says.

and we call it gazorbnik, he says, because we have no other word for it.

but it can go by any other name one may wish to call it and be the same thing, nancy says.

ipso facto, he says. forget gazorbnik if one wants to. just tune into what we are saying about it.

and we are saying everything about it, nancy says.

we are trying to, he says. but there is so much to it all.

because it is everything, nancy says.

everything and nothing both at once, he says.

blinking on/off in the moment divided, nancy says.

and he goes up to answer the door and it's door to door bible people.

he should have invited them in and told them about gazorbnik.

but he didn't.

oh well.

there is something going on, he says, and we don't know what it is so we call it gazorbnik for lack of anything better.

because gazorbnik is free of meaning, nancy says.

right, he says. and that frees it to mean whatever we want it to mean.

free for anyone to give it whatever meaning they might want to or not, nancy says.

and he goes up to take his meds.

and adam and steve show up and sit with them in a circle.

hey, they all say.

so, steve says, where we at?

we're discussing more about gazorbnik, he says.

what more is there to say? steve says.

everything, nancy says.

but you said to forget gazorbnik, adam says.

forget the word gazorbnik, he says, if it gets in the way. we know it's a dumb word but it's what we're saying about it that matters.

we could call it transformational psychic transference, steve says. that sounds classy.

yes, he says, but that is only part of what it is. i think it's best we stick with gazorbnik that means nothing and can mean anything.

i suppose, steve says.

it's a funny bizarre little word, adam says.

i like it, nancy says. it's cute.

it can also be quite ugly, he says.

sure, nancy says. but that only makes it cuter.

i suppose, he says.

so, steve says, where do we go from here?

into anything we might want to, he says.

well, steve says, me and adam just did something you might not like.

what's that? he says.

we abducted someone and took him back to the cellar of the house by the garden and raped and tortured him and killed him, steve says.

is that what you're getting out of this? he says.

sure, steve says. why not? everything is allowed, right?

but not doing harm to others, he says.

but there's no way to enforce that, steve says.

i suppose not, he says. we can only ask people not to.

and if they refuse? steve says. or maybe they can't help themselves?

i guess, he says.

but this is all in your imagination, steve says, so no actual harm was done to anyone.

i guess, he says. but the idea of it should not be encouraged either. who knows what it might lead one to?

that's your problem, steve says, not ours.

i guess, he says.

but it was cool, steve says. we get this young guy and tempted him with sex and drugs back at the house where we overpowered him and brought him down to the cellar where we tied him spread eagle on the floor and whipped the shit out of him before we hooked him up with cables to his balls to a car battery and jolted him with that a number of times then we fucked him and then decided to skin him a little and the screams were beautiful as we sliced and peeled up the skin until he passed out and we revived him with smelling salts and threw boiling oil on him making him scream even more and then we piss and shit on his face and then adam fucked him again while i slit the guy's throat as adam cums as the guy is thrashing to death.

well, he says, what's done is done.

but you don't approve, steve says.

i would rather you use my imagination for other things, he says.

like peace, love and understanding shit? steve says.

something like that, he says.

boring, steve says.

yeah, he says, i suppose. but you're right about it just being my imagination and not actually harming anyone. that's ok.

you dig it, steve says.

i wouldn't be imagining it if i didn't, he says. part of me gets off on it obviously.

i thought so, steve says.

so, he says, what'd you do with the body?

we left it there, steve says. let it get a little ripe and then fuck it some more.

you're pretty twisted, he says.

actually you're the one who's twisted allowing this to happen, steve says.

yeah, he says, you're right.

but that has nothing to do with gazorbnik, nancy says.

it does and it doesn't, he says. gazorbnik opens up all the doors in one's head even the ones leading to the dark as well as the light. gazorbnik does not distinguish between the two. it only seeks to experience everything.

i suppose, nancy says.

with gazorbnik one is free to imagine what one will, he says. whatever one does within the walls of one's paradise is none of anyone's business.

but what about writing about it and exposing others to reading it, nancy says.

they can skip over those parts if they want, he says.

but i would imagine some may secretly get off on it, steve says.

yeah, he says. more people than one might imagine.

so, nancy says, what are we saying with this?

we're saying that whatever one imagines is ok, he says, despite how much it might go against what others might think.

as long as one doesn't harm anyone else outside of one's head doing so, nancy says.

right, he says. that's all we can ask but it is nearly impossible to enforce as history has proven.

but there's those who imagining these things will only lead them to want to experience it for real, nancy says.

it happens, he says. but it could also be that if one imagines these things vividly enough they might not need to experience it for real.

and these things pop into one's head anyway, steve says, and most people suppress it and then it only festers and grows until it becomes an uncontrollable force that then commands one to go out and do it.

it happens that way too, he says. it's best to air these things out in the open in the light. let them do their thing and then they might lose their power to entice one with the forbidden.

right, steve says. so we were doing you a favor.

i suppose, he says.

and he goes up and his baby is up and he makes an avocado swiss red onion sandwich while she makes more coffee for herself.

it actually wasn't all as exciting as i thought it would be, adam says.

things rarely are, he says.

but i feel the need to do it again, adam says.

if that is what you want, he says. just leave me out if it if you will.

wimp, steve says.

i just don't want it to become the main focus of what we're talking about, he says.

but it is a part of it, steve says.

certainly, he says. i cannot deny that.

i think you're mainly worried about what others will think reading this, nancy says.

maybe, he says.

fuck them if they can't take a joke, steve says.

raping and torturing and killing someone is a joke? he says.

sure, steve says, don't you think so?

one could look at it that way, he says, i guess.

they'll be those who do, steve says. they'll laugh and laugh.

i'm sure, he says. but what about the other end of it?

well, adam says, we did go to the hospital as clowns and perform for those dying kids.

i guess, he says.

and we are trying to enlighten people, nancy says.

ha, steve says, that's the joke.

yeah, he says, unfortunately it is.

we have no credentials, adam says.

we have the dada-ananda, he says.

just something else you made up like gazorbnik, steve says.

no, he says, the dada-ananda exists.

prove it, steve says.

the dada-ananda exists as being imaginary, he says. but the dada-ananda was once a real person named elmo dadaski.

prove it, steve says.

there is no proof, he says. whatever records there may have been seem to have gone missing. not that anyone has actually gone looking for them that i know of including me.

so, adam says, how do we know for sure?

there are the rumors, he says. that's how i found out about it.

what rumors? steve says.

rumors that one might happen to hear, he says.

you just hear them in your head i would imagine, adam says.

so? he says.

i'm just saying, adam says.

and he has a couple of tokes.

and he goes up to poop.

the new meds are giving him the shits as well as the shakes.

the dada-ananda is the spanner in the works, he says. the dada-ananda brings down the house.

the dada-ananda gazorbniks, adam says.

of course, he says. the dada-ananda gazorbniks along on the pathless path that leads one to oneself.

i thought the pathless path went nowhere, steve says.

i just changed it, he says. you have a problem with that?

nope, steve says. continue.

i've said what i have to say, he says.

but there is always more to say about the dada-ananda, nancy says.

like what? steve says.

like the dada-ananda howling at the moon in a grocery store parking lot, nancy says.

like the dada-ananda staying up all night to read the bible, he says, from back to front.

or from the middle both ways, adam says.

yes, he says, that's better.

and upside down, nancy says.

and maybe not the bible, steve says, but the bhagavad gita.

sure, he says. or the qur'an.

or a superman comic, nancy says.

or a crossword puzzle book, adam says.

whatever, he says.

and the dada-ananda flies into a tizzy and disappears with a sparkling glimmer leaving shoppers bemused wondering if they saw what they saw in their imagination or not, nancy says.

the dada-ananda sure is funny, adam says.

what else would anyone expect the dada-ananda to be? he says. the name dada-ananda means deliberate irrationality – bliss.

isn't that what gazorbnik brings us to? adam says.

it could, he says.

this is ground control to major tom, steve says.

exactly, he says.

donuts, nancy says.

yes, he says, one of the sacraments of the artchurch along with coffee and cigarettes.

i don't follow such things, steve says.

but you eat donuts and drink coffee and smoke cigarettes, he says.

but not as some sort of ritual, steve says.

everything we do is ritual, he says.

i suppose, steve says.

certainly what we're doing here, nancy says, repeating the same things over and over again.

our incantations, he says.

so, adam says, are we performing some sort of ritual?

we don't have any donuts or coffee, nancy says.

there's probably some back at the house, he says.

let's go, adam says.

so they fly back to the house by the garden deep in the midst of the forest of dreams.

nancy makes coffee and finds a box of assorted donuts in a cupboard.

so, adam says, are we now performing a ritual?

we might be, he says.

it is it, adam says.

and/or it is not it, he says.

amen, steve says.

so, nancy says, where we at?

well, he says, i think we've explained gazorbnik a little better and we've thrown the dada-ananda into the mix.

i like the dada-ananda, adam says. the dada-ananda makes my brain tickle.

that's one of the signs, he says.

the dada-ananda makes me feel anxious and wary, steve says.

that is another sign, he says.

the dada-ananda sometimes makes me feel sleepy, nancy says.

that is another sign, he says.

what isn't a sign of the dada-ananda? steve says.

the dada-ananda makes one feel everything, he says.

the dada-ananda can make one feel nothing as well, nancy says.

or anything, he says.

so, steve says, we're dealing with the same vagueness as usual whenever we talk about shit.

everything is vague, he says.

because everything is a mystery, nancy says.

or vice versa, he says.

yes, nancy says.

we should foment a rebellion, steve says.

against what? he says.

the gods, steve says, and their self-appointed representatives on earth.

yes, he says, that would be a good idea.

but people love their gods, adam says, and adore and idolize their representatives.

while they drag us down with their holy dada, steve says.

they keep telling us we're going to hell if we don't change and follow them and their ways, adam says.

fuck that, steve says. our hell is better than their heaven any day of the week.

but they have the gods on their side, adam says.

i see no evidence of that, steve says.

yeah, adam says, what proof is there?

none at all, steve says.

not like with us with who there don't need to be gods at all, adam says.

exactly, steve says.

it'd be nice if there were gods though, adam says.

there might be, he says.

or might not, nancy says.

and then carla and frank and jane show up and sit down with jane leashed at nancy's side.

hey, they all say.

so, carla says, what'd we miss?

we're fomenting a rebellion against the gods and their self-appointed representatives on earth, steve says.

it's about time, jane says, i fucking hate those people.

but we need to win them over with love, carla says.

fuck love, steve says. this is armed revolution.

but we don't have any guns, frank says.

we have gazorbnik, adam says.

is that a weapon? frank says.

it can be if we want it to be one, adam says.

and what does it do? frank says.

it disarms them, adam says.

how? frank says.

with magick, adam says.

like a ghost shirt, steve says.

but gazorbnik is real, adam says.

i doubt that, steve says.

you doubt everything, he says.

as we all should do, steve says.

we can doubt ourselves out of existence, he says.

which we may end up doing, steve says.

i almost did that, he says.

until you were shipwrecked here on the island, nancy says. i remember you were a mess of doubt and confusion.

i still am, he says.

yes, nancy says, that is quite apparent.

and he goes up to piss and to eat a plum.

i don't know, adam says, you seem sort of together to me.

and this from a figment of my imagination, he says.

take what you can get, steve says, from wherever you can get it.

i suppose, he says.

it's just you telling this to yourself, nancy says.

i suppose, he says.

nevermind, nancy says.

yes, he says.

and maybe this all is sort of together, frank says. maybe it's not as fucked up as it might seem at first.

maybe, he says.

the only one who can determine that is the reader, nancy says.

if there are any, steve says.

i'm sure there are, nancy says.

not so far as i can tell from my site stats there aren't any, he says.

oh well, nancy says.

at some point there might be, adam says.

there could, he says. but i kinda doubt it. and if any do come to this how many will actually read any of it?

so it's not a hit sensation, steve says. who cares? you've said before that it works either way anyone reading it or not.

yeah, he says, it does work either way.

and we're amused, nancy says. and whether anyone else is amused or not is no concern of ours.

i suppose, he says.

and he has another toke after going up to piss.

are we gonna fuck? jane says.

we are, nancy says, but you're not. you have to sit and watch.

can i masturbate? jane says.

no, nancy says.

yes, mistress, jane says.

and she sits there watching while the others fuck away at each other awhile until they all cum together at once.

and they light cigarettes after except adam.

and he watches some alfred hitchcock presents.

and he goes up to piss and make coffee.

so, steve says, have you lost your faith in doubt?

i'm not sure, he says. i know i tend to be gullible and will believe just about anything someone tells me. so i've learned to be wary mostly of trusting myself being able to judge what's what and what's not.

that explains it, steve says.

explains what? he says.

all this doubt that you have, steve says.

i suppose, he says.

so, jane says, i have no doubt about anything. i believe all this shit – what i can understand of it.

yeah, he says, understanding it is the hard part.

do we understand it? adam says.

in different ways probably, he says.

i understand that it's pretty much meaningless dada, steve says.

i get confused, carla says.

there is much to be confused about, nancy says.

we might even say that that is the point, steve says.

muddle the reader's thinking so we can slip in our message, he says.

what's our message? carla says.

gazorbnik, he says, of course.

right, carla says, of course.

so, nancy says, we watch and wait and see what happens when enough people ingest gazorbnik.

it could spread like wildfire, adam says.

or it could fizzle into nothing, steve says.

or even not get lit, nancy says.

whatever, he says. it amuses us whatever way.

it amuses us to sit here and jerk off together, steve says.

yeah, he says, that's pretty much what we're doing.

i wanna go out and kill someone, steve says. just bludgeon them to death with a baseball bat.

can i go with him, mistress? jane says.

sure, nancy says. you've been being good.

i'll go too, adam says.

and so the 3 of them split.

what's this all about? carla says. i thought we weren't going to do anyone any harm.

it's only in my imagination, he says.

but you're sending a message that it's ok to do things like that, carla says.

if one only imagines it, he says, sure. why not?

well, carla says, no reason, i guess.

i can't think of anything either, he says. and it is sort of amusing.

i think so too, frank says.

well, carla says, i don't.

as you wish, he says.

what exactly is so amusing about it? nancy says.

i don't know, he says. it just is.

we are talking about someone being beaten to death, carla says, right?

right, he says.

how can you find that amusing? carla says.

what if it's the reincarnation of hitler? he says.

that justifies it? carla says.

it might, frank says, to some people.

that's what karma is all about, he says.

but one is supposed to raise oneself above one's karma, carla says.

if one wants to get into all that, he says, and squat on one's ass and meditate all day in the hope of attaining it.

all you do is squat on your ass all day, carla says.

and this is my meditation, he says.

it's hardly anything that's gonna free you from your karma, carla says.

like i care, he says. all it has to do is to keep me from going out and killing people.

why would you do that? carla says.

it would be amusing, he says.

i don't believe you would really do that, carla says.

perhaps not, he says. it depends on how crazy i get or not. i've certainly thought about it and imagined it enough.

and he watches some more hitchcock.

and then he goes up to lie down awhile..

and then he wakes up and takes his meds.

and he has a couple of tokes.

so, nancy says, what next?

it should be something new and different, carla says.

yeah, frank says, to hold the reader's interest.

to hold our own interest, frank says.

well, he says, we should probably do that but i'm not sure if i can come up with anything.

that sucks, jane says.

yeah, he says, but i'm stuck with whatever happens to pop up in my brain about this and so far what we've been talking about is the extent of what happens to pop up tells me to write.

yeah, carla says, where the fuck do thoughts come from?

i have no idea, he says.

i don't think anyone has any idea, frank says.

thoughts are only the flicker of synapses in our brains, carla says.

that's the mechanics of it, he says. that says nothing about their origin.

if one slows one's thoughts, nancy says, then one can feel where that origin is.

says who? frank says.

the mystics, nancy says.

should we be like the mystics? carla says.

it shouldn't matter, he says.

but it seems to, frank says.

we have gazorbnik, nancy says.

gazorbnik generates nothing but confusion and doubt, he says.

we are that which one wishes on one's enemy, nancy says.

we are in that worst of human conditions, he says.

madness, nancy says.

it happens, he says.

but why to us? carla says.

people have been crying that out to the heavens for ages, he says.

and the gods look down amused and laugh, nancy says.

and we struggle to join them, he says, by any means possible.

and adam and steve and jane come back and sit with jane leashed to nancy sitting by her side.

that was a gas, adam says. we clubbed the holy fuck outta this old man.

did you kill him, frank says.

i don't think so, steve says. we beat up his legs and arms and ribs but not the head. he could be alive.

in frightening pain, nancy says.

that's horrible, carla says.

we thought so, steve says.

that's why we did it, adam says.

it was awesome, jane says.

that probably gets us kicked out of many people's heaven, frank says.

fuck people's heavens, steve says.

and fuck their hells, adam says, that they'd gladly put us in whether it is oblivion or burning lake of fire.

and fuck people in general, he says.

but we should feel love, carla says.

we love to feel our hate, steve says.

this is what many of us imagine constantly, he says.

how does anyone get through that wall? frank says.

which way? nancy says.

either way, frank says.

shifty, he says.

shifty? frank says.

i don't know, he says. it popped out.

i don't know of any way through it, nancy says.

they have their own paradise, he says. that is where they feel comfortable.

are they happy? carla says.

they might be miserable, he says.

miserable in paradise, jane says. what a life.

it happens, he says.

why? carla says.

why not? he says.

so, nancy says, now that we're doomed to hell what do we do?

we ask for jesus to forgive us, adam says.

fuck jesus, steve says.

i'd love to fuck jesus, jane says.

and jesus comes in through the open kitchen door and goes over and whips out his cock from his tight jeans and fucks jane and as he cums he ascends into heaven.

and they light cigarettes after except adam.

well, nancy says, why don't we dig the hole deeper?

to the center of the earth, frank says.

to the center of hell, steve says.

to the center of our minds, he says.

to an island in the eye of a storm on an otherwise calm sea, nancy says.

the sea is humanity, he says.

in the whirling twirling zig-zag gazorbnik of it all, adam says.

all along on the pathless path to ourselves, he says.

what a trip, frank says.

what a fucking trip, steve says.

yeah, he says. and it's only gonna get worse as the world comes to an end as we know it.

and get better as we are born as new creatures on the earth, nancy says.

according to our theory, he says.

our theory is all that we got to go on, nancy says.

it better be right, adam says.

but we have our doubts, steve says.

lots of them, he says.

more than one can shake a stick at, frank says.

like the stars in the sky, carla says.

like rain from the heavens, adam says.

but we have our hopes, nancy says.

lots of them too, he says. one for every doubt.

the balance of the yin/yang of it, frank says.

something like that, he says, though it is far out of balance.

that's why it keeps spinning, nancy says.

and he decides to go to bed.

and he wakes up and makes coffee and comes down to the bunker and out to the beach on the island.

and nancy comes along and sits with him.

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

i thought i'd find you here, nancy says.

yup, he says.

so, nancy says, you waking up?

sort of, he says.

you're always sort of awake, nancy says.

so? he says.

just saying, nancy says.

so, he says, things are weird.

what things, nancy says.

everything, he says.

what's weird about everything? nancy says.

that it is, he says.

i suppose that is weird, nancy says. but beyond that everything is perfectly normal.

i suppose, he says.

the weirdness is all in your head, nancy says.

i suppose, he says.

you're insane, nancy says, what do you expect?

i suppose, he says.

how would you have it different? nancy says.

more peace, love and understanding, he says.

there's more of that than you might imagine, nancy says.

all i see is war, hate and confusion, he says.

there is that too, nancy says. you're too negative at times. you need to open yourself up more to other possibilities.

i suppose, he says. but i thought i was being open.

you're as closed up as a clam, nancy says.

i'm afraid, he says.

afraid of what? nancy says.

everything, he says.

but everything sustains you, nancy says.

maybe i should have said i'm afraid of everyone, he says.

yes, nancy says. everyone out in it for themselves as much as they can get driving other people down as they claw their way toward the top.

it's a mad monkey world, he says.

what can one do? nancy says.

hold on for dear life, he says.

yes, nancy says. and hope the gods are kind and smile.

i think the gods have abandoned me, he says.

it happens, nancy says.

i suppose, he says.

and he goes up for more coffee.

so, nancy says, you sound like you're still depressed.

i suppose i am, he says. but i still feel the joy of it.

well, nancy says, concentrate on that.

it may be just delusion, he says.

one never knows, nancy says.

i don't know what the reality of it is, he says.

no one knows what the reality of it is, nancy says. we each make up our own.

yeah, he says, until reality smacks us upside the head.

it happens, nancy says.

i'm tired of it, he says. i just want to be left alone.

but you're in it whether you want to be or not, nancy says. you take your chances along with everybody else in this game.

but why must there be winners and losers? he says.

that's the way it plays out, nancy says. there is nothing to be done about it.

and everybody wants to be a winner, he says, with little or no concern of what that means for others.

and you're different? nancy says.

no, he says, i suppose i'm not.

you sit here comfortable in your bunker and ignore all the cries of suffering around you, nancy says.

there is nothing i can do but what i am doing, he says. i would change it if i could.

that's all anyone can do, nancy says.

but others don't give it a thought beyond what is in their own interest, he says.

and you do? nancy says.

i try to, he says. but it's frustrating. there are nothing but walls all around.

tear down the wall, nancy says.

but we're afraid of that, he says. who knows what might come and get us then?

almost anything, nancy says.

but we're each enclosed within our own prison fortress, he says.

it seems that way, nancy says.

it more than seems that way, he says, it is that way.

and what are we supposed to do? nancy says.

i have no idea, he says.

not until everyone is turned on to gazorbnik, nancy says.

that wonderful magical thing, he says.

all you can do is spread the word, nancy says.

but it gets lost in the noise of everything everyone else is making, he says.

if it is meant to be, nancy says, it'll happen.

it doesn't matter specifically about gazorbnik, he says. it means nothing. it's what people may be doing already that's out there.

and one cannot know about that because the lines of communication are confused, nancy says. news is hard to get through.

but it's out there if one knows where to look, he says.

there's more gazorbnik already in the world than many might imagine, nancy says.

we can only hope, he says.

well, nancy says, if idiots like us can come upon it then others who are more perceptive must know about it though they may call it something different.

it could be everywhere, he says. who would know?

well, nancy says, what does one look for?

it would depend on what one is expecting it to be, he says.

and what should one expect? nancy says.

we cannot say that, he says. gazorbnik expresses itself in so many different ways to fit each one's experience of it.

so, nancy says, it could be anything.

right, he says. one can only follow the vibrations of it toward what one imagines it might be.

but we all imagine so many different things, nancy says. and we're right back where we started with it being meaningless dada.

i have no idea about any of this, he says. i'm just babbling whatever pops into my head at the moment. it all means nothing.

and we go around the circle of it then being open to mean anything, nancy says.

and la-dee-da, he says.

and he goes up to take his meds.

so, nancy says, everything we are saying may be totally meaningless or not.

it hardly matters, he says. everything everyone says is open to interpretation.

so much misunderstanding, nancy says, when we all may be talking about the same thing.

we are all human, he says. we have the same human needs. so it would make sense that beneath it all we want the same thing.

but being human means that we each are all different, nancy says.

but those differences diverge from the same basic stock, he says. they are just different forms of expression.

if we could only be open to that, nancy says.

but openness requires trust, he says. and who can trust anyone if we cannot even trust ourselves most of the time?

and there are definitely those about who no one should trust, nancy says.

hence the walls that we must build around ourselves, he says.

and one cannot often tell if one is inside those walls or outside, he says.

it's a mixed up mess, nancy says.

yeah, he says. and that's the reason i hide from it as best as i am able. i am confused by it.

that's obvious, nancy says.

what a thing to be thrown into, he says.

but how amazing it all is that it's even as half together as it is, nancy says.

as we struggle through it and struggle against each other and ourselves, he says.

and then we die, nancy says.

yeah, he says. that's the joke.

it would seem to be, nancy says.

and he needs to go out and get cigarettes for him and his baby.

and he survives the harrowing trip out in the world.

and he has a couple of tokes.

so, he says, does this get any more confusing?

i don't know how it can, nancy says.

but i don't really feel confused much of the time, he says. not to myself. it's mainly when i think of the others and what they are doing.

who the fuck can figure them out? nancy says.

i can't, he says. and there's lots of people studying just that and as far as i know they haven't come to any real workable solutions.

out of everything, nancy says, we are the biggest mystery of it all.

nobody knows what the fuck is up with us, he says, though there are theories galore.

which we throw in with our theory, nancy says.

and take it for a spin around the block, he says.

and see what falls out that might mean anything, nancy says.

but so far all that falls out pretty much has been meaningless dada, he says.

and gazorbnik, nancy says.

yes, he says. gazorbnik falls out into our laps and we have to figure out what the fuck it is.

it's a mystery, nancy says.

yes, he says. and in the end it may not have anything to do with anything.

but we won't know that until we puzzle it out, nancy says.

which is what we've been trying to do all this time, he says, and we haven't come up with much to show for it.

nothing at all, nancy says, that can be said that it is this or that or the other thing.

it's a slippery fluid thing, he says, like quicksilver mercury.

like thought itself, nancy says.

whatever that may be, he says.

our minds are the biggest mystery of ourselves, nancy says.

and that's where gazorbnik is located, he says.

and our imaginations are the biggest mystery of our mind, nancy says.

and as far as we can determine, he says, gazorbnik may be entirely imaginary.

gazorbnik is right smack in the center, nancy says.

gazorbnik is ourselves, he says.

imagine that, nancy says.

imagine whatever, he says, as one may be amused by imaging it.

imagine the best thing ever, nancy says.

imagine paradise, he says, whatever that paradise might be or not for oneself.

and be here now, nancy says.

wherever one's here now might be, he says.

one never knows, he says.

it's a mystery, nancy says.

what is not a mystery? he says.

i can't think of anything, nancy says.

and adam and steve come up and sit down with them in a circle.

hey, they all say.

so, steve says, where we at?

it's a mystery, he says.

duh, steve says. join the investigation.

but where does that leave us? adam says.

mystified, nancy says.

hopelessly wondering, he says.

so, adam says, we're lost?

not necessarily, he says.

we are always here now, nancy says.

and he goes up to make more coffee.

but we've figured out so much of it, adam says.

and we've imagined so much more, nancy says.

but we are still very much confused, steve says.

confused among ourselves as to what it all means, he says.

so many different and contradicting theories to wade through in order to come to any sort of understanding about it, nancy says.

if one can, steve says.

one finds the balance of it, he says.

if one can, steve says.

and he goes up to make a swiss red onion sandwich.

so, adam says, are people supposed to understand this?

people will understand it as they will, he says.

some will understand it as meaningless dada, steve says, which it is.

and some will place their own meaning on it, he says, which is as it should be.

and the overwhelming vast majority will never have heard of it, nancy says.

yes, he says. this certainly doesn't have mass appeal.

it's for the few elect of individuals who get it, steve says.

but, adam says, what is there to get?

whatever one gets, he says, is what one gets.

beyond that there is only mystery about it, nancy says.

it sounds like everything, adam says.

it is our theory of everything, nancy says.

for whatever that's worth, steve says.

it's worth as much as anyone else's, he says.

but this is crazy, adam says, written by a crazy man.

everyone has their own perspective on it, he says, to add into the mix of it.

and do we need to go back into what determines if one is crazy or not? nancy says.

not necessarily, he says. i think we got the idea by now that it is all a social construct.

but few are willing to go that far with it, nancy says.

not with all the pharmaceutical companies making money providing drugs for it, steve says.

and the whole mental health industry, nancy says.

thousands and maybe millions would lose their jobs if it wasn't for the insane, he says.

and he goes up to piss.

the reality challenged, adam says.

yes, he says. though who isn't challenged by reality?

but many are thoroughly determined that they are right and everyone else is wrong, nancy says.

so many are sure that they know the answer, adam says.

we're pretty sure that we have the answer, he says, which is gazorbnik.

but that will be one more thing that people will argue about, steve says. what's the use of that?

but there will be those who understand it as it is, he says.

which is what we have not yet been able to explain except in the vaguest of terms, steve says.

gazorbnik is not something to be pinned down and dissected and described, he says. it is a living thing.

it is the expression of the soul, adam says.

yes, he says, even as dark and ugly as a soul may be.

or as greedy and selfish, nancy says.

he has a couple more tokes.

a branding iron, steve says.

huh? he says.

we forgot to use a branding iron on the guy we tortured, steve says.

too bad, he says.

that would have been nice, adam says.

the next time you guys do that, jane says, i want to come along.

sure, steve says, but we have to finish with the guy down in the cellar which he may be just ripe enough by now to fuck.

and adam and steve and jane with nancy's permission go down to the cellar to fuck the corpse.

that's almost half appealing to me to go join them, frank says.

why not? he says.

i can imagine it well enough, frank says. i don't need to really do it.

yes, he says.

but, nancy says, we're becoming distracted from everything.

yes, he says. that is our primary objective.

why settle for anything less? nancy says.

we have it all, he says.

as much as we might imagine, nancy says.

and there is so much more than that, he says, into the unimaginable unknown.

we plant our flag in all of it, nancy says.

in the name of gazorbnik we claim everything as our own, he says.

hooray, nancy says.

we are them, he says.

so, carla says, i need to go to work. tell jane to come join me when she's done.

right, nancy says.

i need to go too, frank says.

and they split.

and he goes up to piss and make a peanut butter burrito.

and he goes up to lie down with his baby.

and they wake up and go to the store.

so, nancy says, it comes down to you and me again.

i'm glad they're gone, he says.

they are a little much at times, nancy says.

so, he says, has this all gone out the window?

it's hanging by its fingernails and tender threads, nancy says.

why must it always be that way? he says.

no wonder the ancients worshiped the eternal, nancy says.

not just the ancients, he says. they do so today.

and don't we look for it ourselves? nancy says.

i suppose we do, he says.

we have it and the mad god, nancy says. and gazorbnik.

well, he says, i don't know about gazorbnik. it's a thing for the moment.

the moment eternal, nancy says.

maybe, he says. or the moment fleeting.

it's both the same moment, nancy says.

yeah, he says, it's always now.

it will be now forever, nancy says. no other time exists but that.

and all that doo-wah-ditty-dada-doo, he says.

and he has a couple of tokes.

and adam and steve and jane come back from the cellar.

so, he says, you have fun with your corpse?

it was disgusting, adam says.

it sure was, steve says. i loved it.

the stench of it was quite intoxicating, jane says. and he was still hard so i was able to fuck him too.

well, he says, i'm glad it worked out for you. can we have the robots clean him up now?

we're not done with him yet, steve says.

no? he says.

the cold floor down there is slowing the decay process, steve says. wait until he's ready to explode.

i see, he says.

yes, steve says.

and he watches a little more hitchcock.

so, jane says, what are we talking about?

i'm not sure, he says.

eternity, nancy says.

were we? he says.

yes, nancy says.

ok, he says.

and he has a cigarette and then goes up to go to bed.

(to be continued...)