8/2/10

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

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

so, nancy says, what now?

we continue on as always, he says, with the same old shit.

but the shit may be fertilizer for something to grow out of, nancy says.

for the transformation of the human race, he says.

something like that, nancy says. it may be happening and we don't realize it.

right, he says.

and he goes up to take his meds.

and he has a couple of tokes or three.

so, nancy says, more meaningless dada.

that's what it's all about, he says.

i thought it was about the amazing wonders of gazorbnik, nancy says.

that too, he says.

which is totally stupid, nancy says.

it is that, he says.

and he goes up and toasts a bagel and gets more coffee.

but it can be anything anyone might want it to be, nancy says.

it can be that, he says.

why not? nancy says.

i can't think of no reason, he says.

me neither, nancy says.

but what exactly does anyone want it to be? he says.

wealth and power, nancy says.

that'd be the number one choice for many people, he says.

some people would want it to be the extinction of the human race, nancy says.

there are those, he says. or parts thereof.

right, nancy says. cleanse the earth.

so, he says, gazorbnik changes nothing.

but gazorbnik changes ourselves, nancy says.

changes us into what? he says.

i'm not sure, nancy says. a new creature on the earth.

the evolution revolution, he says.

in the span of a generation, nancy says.

perhaps, he says.

x-day, nancy says.

the year zero, he says.

when billions may have to die in the transition, nancy says.

as everything is lost, he says.

everything begins again, nancy says.

and we do the same thing we have always done throughout our history which is to rebuild it exactly the same again, he says.

or not, nancy says.

yes, he says.

we rebuild it into a new way of living with the earth, nancy says.

and share and share alike, he says.

and co-operation, nancy says, among individuals.

no more masses, he says.

no more forced labor, nancy says.

no more elites, he says, and exclusive clubs.

lots of tolerance, nancy says.

and no harm done to others, he says.

not intentionally, nancy says.

right, he says.

and he goes up for more coffee.

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

hey, they all say.

so, steve says, where we at?

the evolution revolution, he says.

as if that'll happen, steve says.

it might, he says.

when the new overtakes the old, nancy says.

right, steve says.

and everyone will gazorbnik, adam says.

or something similar, he says, by some other name.

right, adam says.

everyone will dance and sing and fall down and laugh, he says.

that glorious day of victory, nancy says.

that day we are defeated, he says.

as gazorbnik works in mysterious ways, nancy says.

as we work in mysterious ways, he says.

and why can't we at least know the mystery of ourselves? adam says.

one would think that we would, he says.

but the gods will not allow it, adam says.

if there are gods, steve says.

either way it doesn't matter, he says, we are still stuck in our ignorance.

and he goes up and makes a swiss and pickle and tomato sandwich.

which isn't all that great and he throws it out.

and he rereads and edits the last part and it sort of makes sense and sort of doesn't.

and he has a couple of tokes.

like any of it is supposed to make sense.

as he sits before the computer wondering.

all about whatever.

and what all of this has become that he has written about over the years.

has this been where he was heading?

to imagine oneself on an island in one's head.

to make up whatever nonsense seems to make sense.

along on the pathless path to ourselves.

and it comes and goes like the waves on the beach.

pulled by the tides pulled by the moon.

and all cosmic jive like that.

and the not-poem of it.

to write on and on like no tomorrow.

whatever coming into his head.

he lights another cigarette.

and he watches baseball awhile.

and april makes more coffee and him and his baby go to subway for sandwiches.

so he tries to remember the angst he felt before.

before he found meaning and purpose.

before he realized the point of it all.

and it's steady as one goes.

creepy crawly.

over the hills and far away.

going home.

to have been cast out into the wilderness alone and frightened.

this is the only life he has known.

and he's supposed to act like it's all normal.

ha.

and he goes up for more coffee.

and he has a couple of tokes.

he fucks around with shit for awhile.

he becomes disinterested in this somewhat.

what has it become but a dead end job.

he might watch something about buddha.

or monty python.

yes, nancy says, what more is there?

not much, he says.

but enough to keep us going, adam says.

perhaps, he says.

maybe more about the dada-ananda, adam says.

what's to know about the dada-ananda? he says.

the dada-ananda means deliberate irrationality – bliss, nancy says.

yes, he says, the dada-ananda does.

the dada-ananda spinning along on the pathless path to ourselves, nancy says.

yes, he says, it does.

and he watches the thing about buddha for awhile.

then he goes up to take his meds.

to have gone mad.

as if that were possible.

only our unreal expectations of reality.

but once one surrenders to oneself.

but once one gains victory over oneself.

let the games begin.

wave one's flag burning in the field of flags.

it's a trick done with mirrors.

how one fools oneself into feeling joy when anguish and sorrow should prevail.

when one gazorbniks.

we are children in the world.

no one ever grows up.

we remain as ignorant as we were born.

and how much knowledge we have then.

he sees himself in light and shadow each playing across his face to bring out its features.

he smiles a moment.

the eternal moment forever.

as long as it takes for everything to happen at once.

on/off.

to make it so simple so any idiot can understand.

and who is not an idiot?

who would admit that's true?

look at all the marching monkeys everywhere.

who can have compassion for them when they have none for themselves?

watch them as they trample each other down on their way to heaven.

he is sick of this thought.

and so he turns away from them.

he will do them as little harm as he can get away with.

but he will offer them nothing.

let them find it for themselves as he was forced to do.

let them find it if they can.

what does he have to offer them?

what does he have to offer himself?

what is left of him by this time?

he is no one who does nothing.

he is a useless layabout state funded bum.

writing a useless not-poem about what may or may not be real.

all in this time of confusion and doubt.

just the way he likes it.

just the way he realizes it.

just the way it is.

meandering nonsense of rambling words that mean nothing.

meaningless dada.

dada-doo-wah-ditty-doo-bop.

and he goes up to make a peanut butter and raisin sandwich.

and he has a couple of tokes.

and if it could be so easy.

and if it could be so amusing.

and if it could be all celebration.

and if it could like lighting a cigarette.

and he knows nothing about nothing.

who could be more ignorant than him?

who could be more stupid?

who could be more a fool?

as a spaceship hovers nearby.

as he is himself to himself.

but the self is not important to the mystically minded folk.

but he loves the self.

he loves how selfish and greedy it is.

he loves how it couldn't care less about others.

only himself.

and the confusion in his mind.

he wishes he could make it into something.

the confusion in all our minds.

he wishes we could make it into something.

and we are amused within ourselves.

if not then we should be.

why not?

and he decides to go up and got to bed.

he wakes up and there's coffee made and he comes down to the bunker and out to the beach on the island where nancy is at waiting.

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

well, nancy says, let's go.

ok, he says. where we going?

everywhere we want to, nancy says.

but i want to be here now, he says.

this is it, nancy says.

what more than fucking off sitting on a beach? he says.

you're a party animal, nancy says.

never been that much into parties, he says.

i don't imagine you are, nancy says.

nope, he says.

so, nancy says, we'll sit here and go everywhere.

where do you want to go? he says.

neptune, nancy says.

my home planet, he says. everything is blue.

no wonder you are the way you are, nancy says.

how is that? he says.

mr. blue, nancy says.

it used to be my favorite color, he says.

it used to be? nancy says.

now it's yellow, he says.

why? nancy says.

why not? he says.

i guess, nancy says.

and he goes up for more coffee and to take his meds.

so, he says, there's a cafe i used to hang out in on neptune but it's closed now.

that's too bad, nancy says.

the guy didn't pay his taxes and they busted him, he says.

they have taxes on neptune? nancy says.

i guess so, he says.

so, nancy says, where else is there to go?

but this is where it's at, he says.

here? nancy says.

do you know how many people would like to be able to sit on a beach all day? he says.

i would imagine quite a few, nancy says.

yeah, he says.

then why don't they? nancy says.

they're busy working and supporting us, he says.

that's good, nancy says. we don't want them fucking off.

no, he says. they should work hard and pay their taxes.

while we get to live the life of their dreams, nancy says.

something like that, he says.

but it's not fair to them, nancy says.

that can't be helped, he says. there's ways out for all of them.

but then they wouldn't be working, nancy says. then where would we be?

maybe in a world we wouldn't have to hide from down in a bunker, he says.

that is a possibility, nancy says.

as long as they act like they do, he says, we will act like we do.

that makes sense, nancy says.

so, he says, the basic problems to things haven't been solved.

so many are driven by their desires and fears, nancy says.

just like we are, he says.

but we don't impose them on others, nancy says. we keep them to ourselves.

people running about half outta their minds, he says.

what can be done? nancy says.

nothing we have come up with, he says, besides gazorbnik.

like that is anything, nancy says.

yeah, he says. just one more thing lost in the mix.

the storm tossed waves of the sea, nancy says.

churned by emotions, he says.

everyone out of control, nancy says.

which seems to be the way they like it, he says, though everyone complains about it.

it's funny how that works, nancy says.

and he goes up to eat some yogurt.

but everything else is boring to them, he says. they like the challenge of it all.

they seem to, nancy says. there's plenty of options otherwise.

it's always caused me frustration, he says. i could never do anything right either for others or myself.

it's a tricky world, nancy says. not everyone gets the hang of it.

so many pushed aside and down by the others thinking they're going places, he says.

they all think they're going to the top, nancy says.

greed and power, he says.

yup, nancy says.

and so many are duped into it against their own self-interest, he says.

funny how that works, nancy says.

yeah, he says. the dream of it all that only a few can attain.

it all powers the machine, nancy says.

yes, he says. the machine that will destroy us all.

i'm certainly working on it, nancy says.

as you have been designed and built to do, he says, for some reason.

just for the hell of it, nancy says.

it seems to be, he says.

and he goes up to make more coffee.

he has a couple of tokes or three.

he goes up to poop.

but there is still the birth of the new creature on the earth, nancy says.

according to some theories, he says.

yes, nancy says, it's all theoretically possible.

we will see whose theory wins out, he says.

but they all could win out, nancy says.

according to our theory, he says.

each will see what they want to see, nancy says. it'll all be in our imagination.

in one cataclysmic grand finale, he says.

like the end of the world as we know it should be, nancy says.

with a bang and a whimper, he says.

the greatest show on earth, nancy says. and we have ringside seats for it all.

doesn't everyone? he says.

they will eventually, nancy says. many will have to fall from great heights.

many will rise from great depths, he says.

all to meet in the middle, nancy says.

the middle of nowhere, he says.

the middle of now here, nancy says.

yes, he says.

so, nancy says, the days of celebration are not far away.

no, he says. once we get past through all the shit between.

and that's a lot of shit, nancy says.

and we might not make it, he says.

nope, nancy says.

it'll be like waking from a dream, he says.

waking to the ruins of the world as we know it, nancy says.

and feeling fine, he says.

yup, nancy says.

and him and his baby go to the bank and post office.

and he comes back to the bunker and has a couple of tokes.

and he goes up to make coffee.

so, he says, i can't think of a thing to say. nothing's coming to me.

it'd be meaningless dada anyway, nancy says.

it might be enlightened truth, he says.

from us? nancy says. i doubt that.

me too, he says. we have abolished truth.

at the same time as recognizing all truths together at once, nancy says.

all included in with our theory of everything, he says.

which contradicts itself constantly, nancy says, all truths against the others.

and he goes up for more coffee and to piss.

and, he says, we have also abolished enlightenment.

confusion reigns, nancy says.

not necessarily, he says. both might reign together.

right down the middle, nancy says.

not one, he says, and not the other.

there is no meaning, nancy says.

only gazorbnik, he says.

which itself has no meaning, nancy says, which means it might mean anything.

and he has another toke and goes up to piss.

the absurdity of any of it existing, he says.

but why not? nancy says.

exactly, he says.

but there must be an infinite number of reasons why not, nancy says.

not necessarily, he says.

of course not, nancy says.

and i'd like to drop an abused and sick and starved dead baby in the lap of buddha, he says.

why not? nancy says. it's only fitting.

i think so, he says. why just flowers?

but it's all so beautiful, nancy says.

it's a fairy tale, he says.

but of course, nancy says.

and him and his baby go to the post office and burger king.

and he fucks off awhile.

and he has a couple of tokes.

as he sits before the computer bemused and wondering awhile.

a grimaced smile on his face.

a cigarette in hand.

what does one expect from a madman?

who else would waste their time?

who else would make the time to waste?

and he can do anything and this is what he does.

but this is where his doubts have led him.

this is the hole he has dug for himself and now he has to lie in it.

and he goes up to get an apple.

and he decides to go to bed with his baby.

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

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

you don't seem too into this much anymore, nancy says.

nothing much has been coming to me anymore, he says.

you've shot your wad, nancy says.

i guess, he says.

so, nancy says, are you still amused?

in a scared sort of way, he says.

it is scary, nancy says.

it's part of the experience, he says.

it seems to be, nancy says.

i wonder if the buddha was scared, he says.

fuck the buddha, nancy says, what's he got to do with it?

but we should be like the buddha, he says.

but we are mad, nancy says.

and the buddha wasn't? he says.

i wouldn't know, nancy says. it's just a story.

i suppose, he says.

and he goes up for more coffee.

and he has a couple of tokes.

he goes up to eat some yogurt.

so, nancy says, what more trouble is there in paradise?

there's plenty of it, he says. trouble all around everywhere. even in the houses of wealth and power.

yeah, nancy says, and of course our own.

ours most of all, he says. ours is based on delusion.

nirvana isn't delusion? nancy says.

everything is delusion, he says, according to our theory.

but our theory has yet to be proven, nancy says.

it has yet to be disproven either, he says.

which one would have to read all of it in order to do so, nancy says.

yes, he says, and understand what it means.

when it is all mostly meaningless dada, nancy says.

except gazorbnik, he says.

the one thing about our theory that makes perfect sense, he says.

except that it doesn't, nancy says.

no, he says, not at all.

so, nancy says, what about all that is right with paradise?

gazorbnik is right with paradise, he says.

gazorbnik is wrong with paradise, nancy says.

gazorbnik is left with paradise, he says.

we are left with paradise when gazorbnik is done with us, nancy says.

the paradise of our own dreams and imaginings, he says.

not some paradise for the masses, nancy says.

certainly not, he says.

he goes up to toast a bagel.

so, nancy says, it is a mad dream we have of it.

it is it, he says.

yes, nancy says, it is.

and he watches some baseball.

and he has a cigarette and then goes to the store.

and he makes coffee.

he eats pistachios.

he has a couple of tokes.

and he fucks around awhile.

so, he says, what else can we have but a mad dream? anything we place on it could be classified as delusion.

but that's true with all theories, nancy says.

all theories are meaningless dada, he says.

not to those who believe in them, nancy says.

yes, he says. how are we to decide which is right and which is wrong?

we follow our reason, nancy says.

but we are insane, he says. we have no reason.

irrationalogical reason, nancy says.

which is not recognized as anything by anyone, he says.

not even probably by those who are also insane, nancy says.

insanity is very individual, he says.

it can be, nancy says.

but they try to put it into a box, he says.

as they do with everything, nancy says.

but everything doesn't fit into a box, he says.

but that doesn't stop them, nancy says.

they have their reasons, he says.

however unreasonable they might be, nancy says.

correct, he says.

and he goes up to lie down with his baby.

he wakes up and nukes some coffee.

he has a couple of tokes.

so, nancy says, we dismiss everything as being irrelevant.

or as being very relevant, he says.

we get confused as to which is what, nancy says.

yes, he says, everything confuses us.

it must confuse others as well, nancy says.

which is who we're hoping to attract, he says.

to confuse them further still, nancy says.

confusion is where it's at, he says.

it's where we're at, nancy says.

and we are nowhere, he says.

we are now here, nancy says.

man, he says, we sure are suckers.

yeah, nancy says, we totally bought into this trip.

gave up everything else for it, he says.

and now we're stuck with it, nancy says, and it's completely worthless.

one can't give it away, he says.

people feel it might be catching, nancy says.

which it is, he says, once one starts reading it and finds one cannot stop.

one won't want to, he says. one is amused by it all.

we have somewhat forgotten of late that that is our main objective, nancy says.

yes, he says, all else is secondary at best.

all else is meaningless dada, nancy says.

except gazorbnik, he says.

of course not gazorbnik, nancy says.

correct, he says.

gazorbnik is our god, nancy says.

shining like the sun, he says.

bringing glorious peace forevermore, nancy says.

calming the raging sea of humanity, he says.

and everyone will dance and sing and fall down and laugh, nancy says.

the world will become a garden, he says.

yes, nancy says.

as gazorbnik has already done for us, he says, as we imagine it.

yes, nancy says. it is a wonderful thing.

the world is a circus before us, he says.

with all the thrills and dangers, nancy says.

and the funny clowns, he says.

and sexy ladies, nancy says.

who may not be ladies at all, he says.

maybe not, nancy says.

oh my, he says.

but then the clowns may not be clowns, nancy says.

nor the elephants be elephants, he says.

right, nancy says.

and he watches a bit of paranoia 1.0 awhile.

but after gazorbnik, he says, everything returns as it was.

when gazorbnik is eclipsed by the moon, nancy says.

pulling the tides, he says.

and the waves everlasting, nancy says.

he takes a shower.

and he has a couple of tokes.

so, he says, things are hunky dory.

if you say so, nancy says.

the buddhists seem to think so, he says.

you see one tv show on buddha, nancy says, and now you're all hot on buddhists.

i've always sort have been, he says.

but you don't meditate, nancy says.

my writing is my meditation, he says.

but you're supposed to turn off your thoughts, nancy says.

i turn all my thoughts into meaningless dada, he says.

and then struggle with it for meaning, nancy says.

it is a way to new understanding, he says.

gazorbnik, nancy says.

yes, he says.

so, nancy says, e pluribus quantum.

out of many, he says, massive.

something like that, nancy says.

it means nothing, he says.

it wasn't supposed to mean anything, nancy says.

that's what gives it its meaning, he says.

which it has none, nancy says.

nope, he says.

what is the sound of one hand clapping? nancy says.

a slap in the face, he says.

he goes up to make a swiss red onion sandwich.

so, nancy says, all these onions you're ingesting may be why your feet stink so much.

could be, he says.

like you care, nancy says.

no, he says, i don't.

and he decides to go to bed with his baby.

and he wakes up and there's coffee made and he comes down to the bunker and out to the beach on the island where nancy is at waiting.

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

so, nancy says, you up for everything?

as up as i can be, he says.

ok, nancy says.

yup, he says.

so, nancy says, what is up with everything?

not much around here, he says.

yeah, nancy says, not really. we should think of something.

like what? he says.

anything, nancy says.

anything nice and safe, he says, that won't rock our boat.

you ask for too much, nancy says. there are always waves of things happening.

i don't want that, he says.

too bad, nancy says. that's the way it is with the world.

but i'm done with the world, he says.

but the world isn't done with you, nancy says.

yeah, he says, i know. that's what troubles me.

you shouldn't let it trouble you, nancy says. think good positive thoughts.

but they are all delusional, he says. i want to see reality.

reality can be good and positive, nancy says. it's all how we imagine it.

tell that to someone abused or sick or starving, he says, or all three.

we are all that, nancy says.

i suppose, he says.

but gazorbnik brings us to the light, nancy says.

but it also brings us to the darkness, he says.

it's up to us which way to go then, nancy says. some will decide one way while some will decide the other.

and there will be war between them forever, he says.

yes, nancy says, until we realize that the two are only aspects of the same thing.

and what same thing is that? he says.

mind, nancy says, and imagination.

i suppose, he says.

and everybody is all hot and bothered about it, nancy says, as if it made any difference how one experiences things.

yeah, he says, i don't understand that. what's all the fuss?

there are people who feel the need to harm others, nancy says, and though it could be anybody from either side each side blames the other.

yeah, he says, it's the war between them that's the problem.

there will always be war, nancy says.

it's beginning to look that way, he says, now that we have this vantage point on our history.

it extends back as far as we can see and further, nancy says, in all places around the world.

and there is nothing one can do but to try to stay out of the way, he says.

but there's always trouble around the next bend, nancy says.

one can only hope the gods smile favorably, he says.

but the gods play both sides, nancy says.

endlessly amused, he says.

it would seem that way, nancy says.

it's up to us to get ourselves out of it, he says.

it would seem so, nancy says.

so, he says, one just goes about thinking happy thoughts and hopes for the best.

and have serious doubts, nancy says.

it's those doubts that bring us down, he says.

down to the ground, nancy says, where we belong.

we belong in the trees, he says, swinging in the breeze.

that's what everyone tries to achieve, nancy says.

but there is so much one needs to give up to get there, he says.

yeah, nancy says. sometimes one must lose it all.

i hate it when that happens, he says.

but it is sometimes necessary, nancy says, though we rarely recognize that at the time.

but the world itself will lose everything, he says.

it just might, nancy says. we have a lot of built up karma that needs to be released.

yeah, he says, things are going to explode.

or not, nancy says.

yeah, he says, we always fear the worst.

everybody wishing everyone else would go down, nancy says.

yeah, he says, all that dark negative energy on all sides.

while we gazorbnik our way out of it, nancy says.

we hope, he says.

but for now things are hunky dory, nancy says. enjoy the moment.

but for many the moment is constant pain, he says.

they need to gazorbnik, nancy says. that is all that can be said about it.

that's all we know, he says, as stupid and ignorant as we are.

and no one is as stupid and ignorant as us, nancy says.

we pride ourselves in that, he says.

how we manage to continue to exist is anybody's guess, nancy says.

but exist we do, he says, and the others have to deal with it.

they'll probably deal with it with a gun, nancy says.

that'll be their own karma, he says. ours is clear.

let those who are without sin cast the first stone, nancy says.

but people forget that part, he says. or they purposefully ignore it.

yeah, nancy says, and they look for passages where they are still allowed to hate.

it's all mixed up, he says. i have lost my faith. whatever they are given they distort beyond recognition.

even those with the best intentions, nancy says.

those people bug me the most, he says. smug assholes that they are.

they are that, nancy says.

what will it take to knock sense into us? he says.

the world ending as we know it might be the trick, nancy says.

i doubt it, he says. nothing in our history indicates that we are capable of that.

but we will be born as new creatures on the earth, nancy says.

if the myths about it are true, he says. but all they are is the projection of our imagination.

and he goes up to piss.

hoopla oink oink hoopla, nancy says.

a dingo ate my baby, he says.

and all that, nancy says.

and his baby takes to him an appointment with his counselor and some errands and lunch.

and he heats up morning coffee.

he has a couple of tokes.

he watches baseball awhile.

so, he says, where we at?

we're on the beach watching the waves come in and go out, nancy says.

right, he says.

we're slipping and sliding along on the pathless path to ourselves, nancy says.

people are crazy, he says.

i think we have established this, nancy says.

but they think we're crazy, he says.

because we are, nancy says.

right, he says.

and he goes up to take his meds and take a shower.

so, nancy says, it's interesting.

yes, he says, i find it to be so.

of course more action and adventure wouldn't hurt, nancy says.

this is the action and adventure of the mind, he says.

i suppose, nancy says.

do you doubt? he says.

constantly, nancy says.

that's probably for the best, he says.

or not, nancy says.

of course, he says.

anything could go anywhere, nancy says.

or do anything, he says.

a chair could bite us on the ankles, nancy says.

and run away down the beach, he says.

carrying an umbrella, nancy says.

long live the revolution, he says, it cries to the skies.

yes, nancy says. good riddance.

yes, he says. who needs a rebellious chair?

not us, nancy says.

we like control and order, he says.

like we will ever get it, he says.

but that is what the revolution is for, nancy says.

i thought the revolution was against control and order, he says.

to bring about its own control and order, nancy says.

oh, he says. one might be unaware of that.

it's easy to forget, nancy says.

as easy as lighting another cigarette, he says.

something like that, nancy says.

or nothing like that, he says.

as easy as gazorbnik, nancy says.

that's one thing about gazorbnik, he says, it should be something easy.

and instantaneous, nancy says.

wouldn't that be cool, he says.

radical, nancy says.

but, he says, it's not easy nor instantaneous.

it's a difficult lifetime struggle, nancy says.

and that's just to keep one's sanity through it all, he says.

and how does one judge if one is able to do that? nancy says.

i don't think one ever really knows for sure, nancy says.

so, he says, one just presumes one is mad.

it's easier that way sometimes, nancy says.

better that than pretending one is sane when one is actually mad, he says.

yes, nancy says. something like that.

goo-goo-ga-joob, he says.

is there anything going on? nancy says.

if there is, he says, i have no idea what it might be.

but there is something lurking about, nancy says.

it certainly feels that way, he says. but it could come from any quarter.

or from anywhere else, nancy says.

from everywhere at once, he says.

to knock us flat on our collective ass, nancy says.

our worldwide collective ass, he says.

x-day, nancy says.

in the year zero, he says.

when all our dreams come true, nancy says, including our nightmares.

as if that isn't happening already, nancy says.

it'll be more so, he says.

the future is always more so, nancy says.

more so of the same, he says.

yes, nancy says, the past hangs on to us for dear life.

the present is always a mix of the two, he says, past and future.

you might be misconstruing things a bit, nancy says.

as i am wont to do, he says.

yes, nancy says. this whole thing is a misconstruction.

it is metaschizophrenic science, he says.

it is non-linear propulsion, nancy says.

it is the dada-ananda, he says.

gazorbnik, nancy says.

yes, he says.

and he goes up to piss.

spill the wine, nancy says, take that pearl.

i never take chances, he says, unless i'm forced to by circumstances which usually involves other people.

people create circumstances, nancy says.

they seem to do just that, he says.

nothing one can do, nancy says.

i could do without both, he says, people and their circumstances.

i'm sure you could, nancy says. left to your own imagination to people as you please.

and look at the clowns i have come up with, he says.

who you have been ignoring, nancy says.

for good reason, he says.

and what good reason is that? nancy says.

they confuse me, he says.

i guess that is a good enough reason, nancy says.

it had better be, he says, it's the only one i got.

and he goes up to get his baby some cake and him some ice cream.

and he decides to go to bed.

and he wakes up and there's coffee made and he comes down to the bunker and out to the beach on the island where nancy is at waiting.

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

so, nancy says, are you scared yet?

i'm always scared, he says.

paranoia strikes deep, nancy says.

yes, he says, it does. most people i know are paranoid the blue meanies are trying to take over.

blue meanies are everywhere, nancy says. they're paranoid too.

yeah, he says, they're saying unbelievable things about us. they want to totally eliminate us from the picture.

as we want to eliminate them, nancy says.

the old struggle never dies, he says.

not as long as people are duped into it, nancy says.

on all sides, he says.

if they could meet in the middle and come to some sort of agreement, nancy says.

tolerate one another, he says, and share and share alike.

fat chance of that, nancy says.

yeah, he says.

and 99% of what we think and say and do is pure bullshit, nancy says.

all of us together, he says.

but gazorbnik cuts through it and shows one the way, nancy says.

if one can get to it, he says.

but everybody should be able to get to gazorbnik, nancy says. many won't realize that they're doing it.

i don't know, he says. the world is just too crazy a place.

sanity is a little thin, nancy says.

my sanity is a little thin, he says, i know that.

and he goes up for more coffee and his baby is getting up.

so, nancy says, your sanity is more solid than you might imagine.

so says a figment of imagination in my head, he says.

get it where you can, nancy says.

but it's the opinion of all the others that counts in the real world, he says. they control everything we need to survive and they dole it out sparingly and may soon stop altogether and keep it all for themselves.

yeah, nancy says. that seems to be where their heads are at.

they're the ones who create all the problems, he says.

from our vantage point, nancy says.

us being the victims of it, he says.

and he goes up to poop.

he has a couple of tokes.

he spaces out awhile smoking cigarettes sitting before the computer wondering.

so, nancy says, we still have the problem of the abused and sick and starving children of all ages.

karma, he says.

i guess, nancy says.

unless it is just random absurd meaningless dada nonsense, he says.

either way works with our theory, nancy says.

long may it wave burning in the field of flags, he says.

in the heart of the imaginary city, nancy says.

just as one might imagine it being, he says.

and one can surround oneself with it, nancy says, and take it wherever one might go.

maybe, he says. until someone cracks one's head open with a big stick.

which could happen at anytime, nancy says.

in some form or another, he says.

yup, nancy says.

i had my head cracked open with a big stick, he says, and i saw god.

many people do, nancy says.

but not their god, he says. my own god.

it is it, nancy says.

sort of, he says.

but it is not god, nancy says.

not as we think of god, he says.

the almighty pompous ass, nancy says.

yeah, he says, that one.

the god of the fascists, nancy says.

right, he says.

the fascists, he says, that bundle of sticks mentality of much of the human race.

the collective gone mad, nancy says.

when they think that they themselves are the only ones who are sane, he says.

imagine thinking that, nancy says.

many people do, he says.

yeah, nancy says, so many are locked into it.

it's human nature, he says.

and it's human nature for people to be disenfranchised from it, nancy says.

and he goes up to piss and to make more coffee.

there'll always be the odd ones out no matter where who draws the line, he says.

no matter how inclusive it might be, nancy says.

right, he says, like any one of these groups is really all that inclusive.

no, nancy says, they're not. no way.

they're inclusive for likeminded assholes, he says.

right, nancy says.

but, he says, not us.

we are them, nancy says.

the most inclusive club there is, he says.

everyone belongs, nancy says.

who is not them to someone? he says.

yes, nancy says.

and we all gazorbnik together at once, he says, without even knowing that is what we are doing or how.

right, nancy says. the evolution revolution.

the cracking open of the world egg, he says.

the cracking open of our eggheads, nancy says.

right, he says. with a baseball bat.

or a rock, nancy says.

or a bullet, he says.

obliterated, nancy says.

gone, he says.

nowhere, nancy says.

nothing, he says.

and there are those with theories that state that nothing is impossible, nancy says.

but that has nothing to do with everyday reality, he says.

no, nancy says, it doesn't.

and neither does gazorbnik, he says.

gazorbnik changes one's everyday reality into divine reality, nancy says.

blissful divine reality, he says.

whatever blissful divine reality might be for whoever, nancy says.

right, he says.

like going out on a killing spree, nancy says.

targeting mothers and their babies, he says.

right, nancy says. all that good stuff.

find the groove of it and dig it, he says.

along on the pathless path to ourselves, nancy says.

killing and killing, he says, and killing again.

yes, nancy says. as one's heart desires.

nevermind the confusion of it, he says.

it all becomes clear afterward, nancy says.

shocked back into reality, he says.

as real as it gets, nancy says, as surreal as it might seem.

and it does seem so, he says.

right, nancy says.

jump on it right away, he says.

get on one's gazorbnik and fly away, nancy says.

back to the here and now, he says.

just as one imagines it to be, nancy says.

all the death and destruction one might want, he says.

it doesn't matter to us, nancy says.

we're just visiting, he says.

interesting planet they have here, nancy says.

yeah, he says. and they take it all so seriously.

they feel it may be the only chance they get, nancy says.

whatever makes it real, he says.

making fools of us all, nancy says.

of course, he says. could it be any other way?

nope, nancy says.

but, he says, consider all the possibilities.

but they aren't probabilities, nancy says.

who the fuck cares? he says.

the realists, nancy says.

and the rationalogicalists, he says.

but the irrationalogicalists understand everything, nancy says.

as well as it can be understood by the human mind, he says.

of course, nancy says.

and he goes up to take his meds.

he has a couple of tokes.

so, he says, we are saying that one should be crazy to read this.

it probably wouldn't hurt, nancy says.

but not necessary, he says.

oh no, nancy says, not that.

this doesn't cut it, he says, however one slices it.

it doesn't seem to, nancy says. maybe we should forget it.

but we've come this far with it, he says.

but all we can say is it is it, nancy says.

all we can say is gazorbnik, he says.

yeah, nancy says, that too.

and he decides to go up to go to bed.

he wakes up and his baby makes coffee and he comes down to the bunker and out to the beach of the island where nancy is at waiting.

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

so, nancy says, what's up for today?

i don't know, he says. more of the same.

when will we reach an end? nancy says.

when we are finished, he says.

when will that be? nancy says.

never, he says.

so, nancy says, we're just faking it.

as always, he says.

but we're faking the real thing, nancy says.

yes, he says, we are.

and he goes up to piss and toast a bagel.

he has a couple of tokes.

and we're shaking the real thing, nancy says.

yup, he says.

so, nancy says, we have no excuse.

none whatsoever, he says.

so, nancy says, how do we get out of it?

lie and cheat and steal, he says.

and beg and borrow? nancy says.

if necessary, he says.

whatever it takes to survive, nancy says.

he goes up to poop.

his asshole burns after.

onions probably.

but raping and torturing and killing aren't things one does to survive, he says.

they are done for the pleasure of it, nancy says.

and what pleasure we imagine it is, he says.

yes, nancy says. as long as it remains our imagination.

quite, he says.

and he lights another cigarette as he sits before the computer typing away meaningless dada wondering.

and molly comes around his feet and he pets her.

and he fucks around with shit awhile.

he goes up to make a turkey and swiss sandwich.

he wonders about how much he doesn't know what's going on.

he is confused by so many things save gazorbnik.

but he is not confused by his confusion.

he has learned to love it.

he doesn't understand how others are not confused except by gazorbnik.

how can something so simple that it can mean anything get by them?

he wonders about this a moment or so while he fucks around some more.

they're too busy.

busy working.

working to support him.

yay for them.

yay for him.

yay yay yay for everybody.

he goes up to make more coffee.

and he's blown most of the day spacing out and fucking around with shit.

he's hasn't got much more to write about.

he's pretty much spent.

it doesn't amount to much.

he goes up for more coffee and some chocolate cake.

he has a couple of tokes.

and he fucks around some more before deciding to go up and go to bed.

and he wakes up and coffee is made and he comes down to the bunker and out to the beach on the island where nancy is at waiting.

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

not much happening, nancy says.

there isn't much to happen, he says.

and he goes up to take his meds and get more coffee.

he has a couple of tokes.

what's left when we have figured out everything? nancy says.

nothing, he says.

yeah, nancy says, and nothing is far more difficult to figure out.

it's the basis of everything, he says.

without nothing, nancy says, nothing would exist.

and how, he says.

or not, nancy says.

can't think, he says.

no need to think, nancy says.

yeah, he says, what's to think about?

everything, nancy says.

thinking everything kinda obliterates all thought, he says.

i think it's supposed to be that way, nancy says.

to be mindless, he says.

to lose the form of one's ego-centered consciousness, nancy says.

whatever the ego is, he says.

the self, nancy says.

whatever that is, he says.

it's you, nancy says.

whoever i am, he says.

i suppose, nancy says.

so, he says, does everything make sense yet?

it does to me, nancy says.

me too, he says.

once one stops thinking about it, nancy says.

yeah, he says. all that thinking i've done all my life and where has it gotten me?

insane, nancy says.

that's about it, he says. thinking is insanity.

it would seem to be, nancy says.

why think when one can gazorbnik? he says.

exactly, nancy says. and have gazorbnik explain everything.

as it should, he says.

as it is willing and able, nancy says.

yup, he says.

and he goes up to piss.

and he gazorbniks awhile.

then he goes up and lies down awhile.

he wakes up and makes coffee.

well, nancy says, we haven't done shit.

nope, he says. so?

so, nancy says, your readers are patiently waiting.

let them, he says. i've got nothing.

don't you care about that? nancy says.

i've always cared about that, he says. i wish that brilliant things would come to me but they don't.

you need a new muse, nancy says.

how? he says. put an ad out?

yeah, nancy says. i guess not. try tuning into a different channel.

this is the channel i've listened to my whole life, he says. it's the channel my brain is set on.

and you've been insane your whole life, nancy says.

till i die, he says.

probably, nancy says.

and he goes up to piss and get more coffee.

he goes out to get cigarettes.

he has a couple of tokes.

so, he says, where we at?

i have no idea by now, nancy says. the usual i would imagine.

the dogma doo-doo of it, he says.

that's exactly what it is, nancy says.

that's where a lot of theories bog themselves down, he says.

it's like quicksand, nancy says.

quicksand of shit in a cesspool, he says.

yuck, nancy says.

yup, he says.

what a way to go, nancy says.

and all the while thinking one is ascending to heaven, he says.

what a way to go, nancy says.

yup, he says.

but, nancy says, certainly we're not as foolish as that.

why not? he says. we're human. humans think in circles.

that they then can't get out of, nancy says.

right, he says.

everywhere we go we bring monkey with us, nancy says.

it does seem to be the case, he says, especially those who don't believe in such a thing.

they act monkey the most, nancy says.

yes, he says.

or so it seems to us, nancy says, who we might be the most monkey of all.

yes, he says.

the whole world is monkey, nancy says.

yes, he says.

it's a bit unnerving, nancy says.

yes, he says.

who knows what anyone might do? nancy says.

yes, he says.

the beast within us all, nancy says.

yes, he says.

we need to evolve out of it, nancy says.

yes, he says.

but, nancy says, we probably never will.

no, he says.

as it all comes and goes, nancy says, like the waves on the beach.

all in the here and now, he says.

as we happen to imagine it, nancy says.

since reality is not much to our liking, he says.

not with all them crazy people in it stirring it every which way toward their own selfish ends, nancy says.

pushing and pulling, he says.

won't leave us the fuck alone, nancy says.

so, he says, we go where they cannot find us.

but they will sooner or later, nancy says.

only our outer physical body, he says.

but they have ways of reaching inside, nancy says, and getting to us.

in our paranoid fantasies, he says.

which may become real, nancy says.

unless the gods intervene, he says.

as if, nancy says.

they've protected us so far, he says, especially from our own stupidity.

i guess, nancy says.

so, he says, we're surrounded by groups of those who feel they represent the oppressed majority and are fighting against the agenda of the others who they feel are in power and control through devious means in a fight to the death with each other.

no prisoners, nancy says.

nope, he says, not anymore.

unless they can be converted, nancy says.

maybe, he says.

as he sits before the computer eating pretzels and wondering.

he has a cigarette.

he is starting to get tired.

so, nancy says, it's all meaningless dada.

as we have been saying it is, he says.

quite right, nancy says.

exactly, he says.

and he goes up and goes to bed.

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

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

ready to get something done today? nancy says.

maybe, he says. what's to be done?

explaining everything, nancy says.

we've explained all we know, he says, which isn't much.

i don't think anyone will be impressed, nancy says.

no, he says, probably not.

so, nancy says, while everyone fights with one another we hide from it all.

for as long as we can, he says.

our heads up our ass, nancy says.

popping out as our heads again, he says.

yup, nancy says.

and he goes up for more coffee.

and his baby is getting up.

all them hard working folk who support our lazy ass, he says.

yeah, nancy says, something should be done about that.

they're working on it if they have their way, he says. that's their part in the revolution.

the multi-faceted revolution, nancy says.

coming at it from all sides, he says.

that's the way it works, nancy says.

they meet in the middle on this common ground and tear it up, he says.

yeah, nancy says, they like to do that.

like children, he says.

grownup children, nancy says.

i remember them from the playground, he says.

their heads are still there, nancy says.

yup, he says.

and he has a couple of tokes.

huh? nancy says.

what? he says.

exactly, nancy says.

so, he says, gazorbnik means to attain the highest thing possible.

and have we done that? nancy says.

we have achieved godhead, he says.

god going mad laughing and screaming in the void inside our heads, nancy says.

right, he says. gazorbnik brought us to that realization.

if it is a realization, nancy says.

a realization is whatever one imagines is a realization, he says.

true enough, nancy says.

but is godhead the highest realization? he says. or is it just escapist fantasy?

another product of our false consciousness, nancy says.

we need to keep that possibility in mind, he says.

yes, nancy says, we do.

everything we think we know could be wrong at any moment, he says.

yes, nancy says, of course.

and for others achieving godhead might not be the highest thing possible, he says.

not at all, nancy says.

we each have our own thing, he says.

of course, nancy says.

but gazorbnik will help one in any situation, he says.

though it may not seem like it at the time, nancy says.

gazorbnik puts one through changes, he says.

yes, nancy says, it does. unexpected ones.

that's for fucking sure, he says.

so, nancy says, what else can we say about gazorbnik?

it's tasty, he says.

it smells sweet too, nancy says.

but not too sweet, he says. a little musky too.

it smells like nirvana, nancy says.

i guess, he says.

you don't know? nancy says.

i know nothing of nirvana, he says.

i think you do, nancy says, but don't know it.

maybe, he says, but i doubt it.

so do i, nancy says.

he goes up to take his meds.

and he fucks around awhile.

and he dreams.

and he makes a fool of himself in so many ways.

ha ha ha...

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

and he wakes up and there's coffee made and he comes down to the bunker and fucks around awhile most of the morning away.

facebooking fool.

and dada dada dada.

and he has a couple of tokes.

and fucks around some more.

when he decides to go to the beach on the island and no one is there but nancy comes strolling along and sits facing him her back to the sea.

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

so, nancy says, you haven't been paying much attention to this of late.

no, he says. i'm not sure if it amuses me as much as it has in the past.

what would amuse you? nancy says.

it would amuse me to see you explode, he says.

well, nancy says, i'm not going to.

why not? he says.

i don't feel like it, nancy says.

i'll imagine that all the pieces of you slither back together whole again, he says.

nope, nancy says.

darn, he says.

so, nancy says, where we at?

i have no idea, he says, but gazorbnik would be a good place to start.

our damned beloved gazorbnik, nancy says.

like a cloud, he says.

we're living in a cloud, nancy says, a data cloud.

something like that, he says.

maybe, nancy says.

or not, he says.

and he fucks around some more.

he makes his baby a meat loaf sandwich.

so, nancy says, now what?

i am an idiot, he says.

why? nancy says.

who knows why? he says. i just do idiot things.

like what? nancy says.

like continuing to write this, he says.

you do this because you are insane, nancy says.

an insane idiot, he says.

is that so terrible? nancy says.

i've made it this far, he says.

yeah, nancy says. hiding in a bunker.

sitting on a beach, he says.

right, nancy says.

and he goes up for more coffee and to piss.

and he fucks around some more.

as he lights another cigarette sitting down here in the bunker before the computer wondering all sorts of things.

wondering if there's a baseball game on.

but deciding he doesn't want to watch one if there is.

so, he says... and he spaces out what he was gonna say.

he is a odd sort of fellow as he always has been for whatever reason his whole life.

boo-fucking-hoo.

they're all against him and those who aren't aren't exactly for him.

or not.

what does he know?

how is he to know?

people remain hidden.

they don't gazorbnik like he does.

no one does.

but no one gazorbniks like anybody else.

we each have our way of doing it – attaining the highest thing possible as we see fit.

if that is what gazorbnik means.

or does it?

he doesn't know.

and he wonders who wrote the book of love.

and he sits here trapped by his own mind.

his own mind in confusion of doubt about his own mind – among other things.

and he goes up to lie down awhile.

and his baby comes home from a meeting with burger king.

then he watches the rutles awhile.

ho-hum.

and he fucks around some more eating pretzels.

and then he decides to go to bed.

and he blows this off for 2 or 3 days.

he is sort of tired of it.

where does it go?

where does anything go?

he sits before the computer wondering whatnot.

he has a couple of tokes.

he lights a cigarette.

it all evaporates.

disappears.

but not really.

it's all still here the same but different each moment.

the elongated eternal moment of now.

in love with everything.

is everything in love with him?

so far it seems to be.

he resonates with the human race.

the human race resonates with him.

gazorbnik.

and he sits on the beach of the island watching the waves come in and go out in the full moonlight.

and his baby watches her tv while he escapes into pandoraland.

and along comes nancy strolling up the beach.

she sits down facing him her back to the sea.

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

so, nancy says, what have you been up to?

fucking around, he says. a lot on facebook.

bread and circuses, nancy says.

yes, he says.

so, nancy says, where we at?

who knows? he says. i haven't thought of this for days.

what have you been thinking? nancy says.

i don't know, he says. i can't remember.

that may or may not be a good thing, nancy says.

yes, he says.

so, nancy says, now what?

all i know is that i am an idiot, he says.

idiots of the world unite, nancy says.

right, he says, like we ever could.

but we are all united in idiocy, nancy says.

gazorbnik, he says.

exactly, nancy says.

but we get confused so easily, he says.

that is our nature, nancy says.

and/or our nurture, he says.

yes, nancy says, and what is your point?

i don't think i have one but to be amused, he says.

are you still amused? nancy says.

i'm not sure, he says.

are you sure of anything? nancy says.

i'm not sure, he says.

exactly, nancy says.

i am sure that whatever i am doing it's wrong, he says.

according to the others, nancy says.

who control the world, he says.

yeah, nancy says, and there ain't nothing one can do about it.

nope, he says.

and he goes up and goes to bed.

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

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

what's up? nancy says.

it's all down to gazorbnik, he says.

pitiful, nancy says.

yup, he says.

and he goes up for more coffee and to toast a bagel.

and he has a couple of tokes.

and he fucks around awhile mainly on facebook.

so, nancy says, what's up with everything?

that's what we're all trying to discover, he says, each in our own particular way.

according to one's means, nancy says.

yes, he says. not all of us have access to the same things that might help us to understand.

but one doesn't really need anything but gazorbnik, nancy says.

no, he says, not really.

and often sometimes not even that, nancy says.

yup, he says.

so, nancy says, what does all this mean?

it's all meaningless dada, he says.

oh, nancy says. right.

but we place meaning on it for ourselves according to our experience of it, he says.

right, nancy says.

and much of our meaning is collective meaning, he says.

right, nancy says.

because much of our experience is collective, he says.

right, nancy says.

even though we may feel ourselves outside of the collective, he says.

right, nancy says.

we are each surrounded by the collective and must interact with the collective at some point unless we are entirely isolated, he says.

right, nancy says.

and many of us feel isolated like that, he says.

right, nancy says.

while others willingly participate in it, he says.

right, nancy says.

yup, he says.

so, nancy says, out of all this comes absolute universal truth.

we would like to believe so, he says. and many have claimed that they have found it.

and they impose it on the rest of us, nancy says.

and many are willing and obey, he says.

while the rest of us wander about in the wilderness alone, nancy says.

home is where the heart is, he says.

our hearts spinning along on the pathless path to ourselves, nancy says.

gazorbnik, he says.

quite so, nancy says.

so, he says, i can't think of anything.

i have that problem too, nancy says.

but actually, he says, it's more that i am thinking too many things.

me too, nancy says.

funny how that works, he says.

yup, nancy says.

so, he says, zippy the pinhead would be proud of us.

maybe, nancy says.

he was one of my heroes, he says. bugs bunny was another.

yes, nancy says, i can imagine.

even though bugs didn't have an asshole, he says.

and eating all those carrots, nancy says.

yes, he says.

so, nancy says, problems remain.

as they always will, he says.

no matter what time and place might be now here, nancy says.

nowhere, he says.

right, nancy says.

so, he says, despite this we move on, he says.

to where? nancy says.

to being here now, he says.

that's easy, nancy says.

but it is difficult to be aware of it, he says.

are we supposed to be? nancy says.

the mystics say so, he says.

then it must be true, nancy says.

one might think that, he says. but we must look past all that.

to what? nancy says.

to what is reveled, he says.

and what is that? nancy says.

reality, he says.

as we imagine it, nancy says.

there's nothing wrong with that, he says.

who said there was? nancy says.

some people would, he says.

those who want to hook us into their own sense of reality, nancy says.

right, he says. so they can have us under their control.

that's what it's all about, nancy says.

yup, he says.

and he goes up to piss and heat up some lasagna.

i don't get it, nancy says.

i probably don't either, he says, except i imagine that i do.

we each imagine that, nancy says.

but i know that is only what i am doing, he says.

our imagination has been a human gift and curse, nancy says.

yes, he says. we can imagine all sorts of ways to torture and kill other people.

or to comfort and heal them, nancy says.

right, he says.

he goes up to lie down for awhile.

he wakes up and makes coffee.

he eats a meat loaf sandwich.

he has a couple of tokes.

so, nancy says, this is about as transparent as it gets.

to the bone, he says.

as nothing is reveled, nancy says, that one shouldn't know already.

right, he says.

so, nancy says, we've got it all figured out.

not really, he says.

why not? nancy says.

there's so much to consider, he says.

like what? nancy says.

caterpillars, he says.

when we are born and emerge as butterflies, nancy says.

right, he says.

so, nancy says, we're thinking impossible things.

like peace, love and harmony, he says.

who would be that foolish? nancy says.

yes, he says.

bringing it all down to the ground, nancy says.

the common ground, he says.

if any can be found, nancy says.

it's all become a battleground, he says.

we suffer through it, nancy says.

we dance and sing and fall down and laugh, he says.

as we enter the garden, nancy says.

as we unlearn the knowledge of good and evil, he says.

we attain that perfect state, nancy says.

at one with it, he says.

gazorbnik, nancy says.

yup, he says.

so, nancy says, we could be deluding ourselves.

of course, he says.

so, nancy says, how do we know?

don't think about it, he says.

no? nancy says.

no, he says.

so, nancy says, we probably shouldn't think of a lot of things.

we should think of nothing, he says, so the mystics say.

fuck them, nancy says. we'll think what we want to.

right, he says.

thoughtcrime, he says.

yes, nancy says. that is the danger.

duckspeak, he says.

yes, nancy says, that is the solution.

right, he says.

and here we are doing just that, nancy says. just talking meaningless dada.

gazorbnik, he says.

yup, nancy says.

it's scary, he says.

it's supposed to be, nancy says.

yeah, he says. it would seem that way.

adventure, nancy says.

unfortunate adventure, he says.

it can be, nancy says.

yes, he says.

and he goes up to take his meds.

so, nancy says, the transcendental experience of it.

find the groove and dig it, he says.

while it lasts, nancy says.

which should be for the rest of one's life, he says.

but maybe not, nancy says. one can lose oneself again.

but not with gazorbnik, he says.

no, nancy says, not at all.

so, he says, this is not all of it.

nothing can be, nancy says. there's always more.

or not, he says.

yup, nancy says.

never never, he says.

nope, nancy says.

so, he says, we discover ourselves along in the eternal moment on the pathless path.

something like that, nancy says.

and it all comes back to ourselves, he says.

as we must allow ourselves to disappear, nancy says.

something like that, he says.

but anything can happen, nancy says.

yes, he says, it can.

we could be the gods, nancy says.

we could be, he says. but i doubt it.

so do i, nancy says.

there are no gods, he says.

except as we imagine them, nancy says.

which may be the only way gods can be perceived, he says.

and aliens, nancy says.

them too, he says.

so, nancy says, things are very strange.

what does one expect? he says.

it's strange how familiar it is, nancy says.

it's familiar how strange it is, he says.

that too, nancy says.

yup, he says.

so, nancy says, we try to open ourselves to everything.

but we are overwhelmed, he says.

we become confused, nancy says.

and we surrender to it, he says.

it is it, nancy says.

yes, he says.

tiptoe through the tulips, nancy says.

through the crossfire, he says.

as free as we please, nancy says.

waving our flag burning in the field of flags, he says.

as we pull our pants down and salute, nancy says.

but you have no pants, he says.

but i can still salute, nancy says.

i guess, he says.

and so what's left of our theory of everything? nancy says.

it's in shambles, he says. we're in disgrace.

we are idiots, nancy says.

that is easily understood, he says.

and we are out of the loop, nancy says.

as if we were ever in it, he says.

we shouldn't be alive, nancy says.

that will be remedied, he says, as soon as the yahoos get their way.

as we are taken out and shot, nancy says.

yup, he says.

so, nancy says, the end is the beginning as the beginning is the end.

into and out of nothing, he says.

as we imagine it, nancy says.

yes, he says. we know nothing otherwise.

bicycles, nancy says.

right, he says.

and we are such fools, nancy says.

yes, he says, we are.

our heads are birdhouses, nancy says.

yes, he says, they are.

so, nancy says, where we at?

we're in trouble, he says.

how so? nancy says.

no one likes us, he says.

boo-fucking-hoo, nancy says.

yeah, he says, until they hunt us down.

and he has a couple of tokes.

so, nancy says, it comes and goes.

it would seem to, he says.

or maybe not, nancy says.

no, he says, maybe not.

but the universe is in constant motion, nancy says.

as we imagine it, he says.

until it is refuted thus, nancy says.

exactly, he says.

so, nancy says, do we know what we're talking about?

i'm not sure, he says, but i doubt it.

yeah, nancy says, that's what i thought.

and he decides to go up and go to bed.

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

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

what are we up to? nancy says.

i have been such a failure in so many ways, he says.

yes, nancy says, i know.

how can i live with myself? he says.

jesus forgives you, nancy says.

right, he says.

as he lights a cigarette sitting before the computer wondering about all the crazy shit in the world.

and he has a couple of tokes.

and he lights another cigarette.

he doesn't want to forget.

but all will be forgotten by and by.

he sometimes finds that to be a comforting thought.

as thoughts spin around his brain.

he laughs a little to himself and keeps on typing meaningless dada until the end.

this is how he gazorbniks.

a gazorbniking fool.

and he fucks around awhile with email and facebook and drawing idiots.

and he feels like a complete ass.

what right does he have to exist?

this could have been a life for someone who actually did something with it instead of him wasting it away as he has done and continues to do.

gazorbnik.

and all the angry people who have to eat it.

as we build up for an explosion.

all the serious minded people who have to have their way or else.

all the people who know exactly what's going on and exactly what they're doing.

and he goes out to the store for food and cigarettes.

he makes a hummus and swiss and leek sandwich.

and he takes his meds.

he has a couple of tokes.

and he fucks around awhile before deciding to go up and go to bed.

and he wakes up and makes coffee and goes to the beach on the island where nancy is at waiting.

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

and he goes up to lie down awhile after fucking around.

so, nancy says, are we gonna do anything here or are you gonna facebook and stuff all day?

it's addictive, he says.

so? nancy says. can't you do two things at once?

i suppose, he says. but probably not.

and he fucks around some more for most of the day.

so, nancy says, it all comes and goes.

spinning around in my head, he says.

dark secrets, nancy says.

the darkest, he says.

mixed up and confused, nancy says.

yup, he says.

and he goes up to shower and shave.

and what are you gonna do about it? nancy says.

there isn't much one can do, he says.

one becomes stuck in it, nancy says.

yes, he says, one certainly does.

and nothing is funny anymore, nancy says.

not much, he says.

and he sits before the computer wondering whatever about whatnot.

as it comes and goes.

the wind from a fan in his hair.

the cigarette in hand.

this is pointless, nancy says.

it seems to be, he says.

but what can be done? nancy says.

not much, he says. once one enters here there is no hope.

nope, nancy says.

nothing goes anywhere, he says.

not that we are aware of, nancy says.

nope, he says.

and he goes up and goes to bed.

and he wakes up and coffee is made and he comes down to the bunker and out to the beach on the island where nancy is at waiting.

hey, nancy says.

hey he says.

so, nancy says, onward we go along on the pathless path to ourselves.

and what horror and delight we find when we arrive, he says.

remember, nancy says, it's all a dream.

for you maybe, he says. i gotta live in the real world.

fuck the real world, nancy says.

but the real world fucks back, he says. i'd rather ignore it as much as possible.

well, nancy says, you've done that pretty successfully so far.

but it's still out to get me, he says.

it's out to get us all, nancy says.

in the end, he says.

also in the meantime, nancy says.

yup, he says.

and he goes up and toasts a bagel.

and he goes up to lie down awhile.

he wakes up and makes coffee.

he has a couple of tokes.

he fucks around.

he goes up for more coffee.

so, nancy says, what is real?

pain, he says.

anything else? nancy says.

everything else is questionable, he says.

but who can take the time to question? nancy says.

exactly, he says.

except one can make the time, nancy says.

yes, he says, they can.

and quietly go insane, nancy says.

exactly, he says.

so, nancy says, everything happening at once.

in one eternal moment of now, he says.

like a giant moth, nancy says, poised on the brink of flaming disaster.

tomorrow's world came in the mail today, he says.

yes? nancy says.

i recycled it, he says.

oh, nancy says.

yeah, he says, bad voodoo.

i'm sure, nancy says.

people selling a bright tomorrow, he says.

wait till the lights go out, nancy says.

exactly, he says.

oh well, nancy says.

that's all she wrote, he says.

i certainly did, nancy says.

it's been you all along, he says.

perhaps, nancy says.

i doubt that, he says.

as one should, nancy says.

so, he says, is this confusionism?

it could be, nancy says.

a friend on mine came up with that term, he says. i stole it from him.

i'm sure he doesn't mind, nancy says.

too bad if he does, he says.

so, nancy says, x-iting on x-day.

yes, he says, though i doubt that too.

as one should, nancy says.

right, he says.

as we hope for the best and fear for the worst, nancy says.

as people always have, he says.

hoping for tomorrow's world, nancy says.

yes, he says.

as the wheels of fate and fortune roll on, nancy says.

like the waves on the beach, he says.

slowly eroding time itself, nancy says.

exactly, he says.

and we continue with the not-poem of it, nancy says.

remember, he says, that's all it is.

of an epic proportion, nancy says.

we are trying, he says.

what else can one do when attempting to explain everything? nancy says.

but are we doing that? he says.

we keep getting sidetracked, nancy says.

we fly awhile and then crash, he says.

we pick up the pieces and do it again, nancy says.

or try to, nancy says.

until we crash and burn, he says.

burn in our own hell, nancy says.

except those saved by jesus, he says.

right, nancy says. which won't be us.

nope, he says. kiss it all good-bye.

but we are ready for that if and when it comes, nancy says.

we try to be ready for anything, he says.

and we may be able to gazorbnik our way through it, nancy says.

as the mind shift/ship takes us away, he says.

this is a piece of the puzzle, nancy says.

the exquisite corpse, he says.

another piece of the puzzle, nancy says.

where would we be without dada? nancy says.

we might be lost, nancy says.

but we are lost, he says.

but i mean really lost, nancy says.

right, he says.

because, nancy says, we're just pretend lost.

maybe, he says. maybe not.

we hope so anyway, nancy says.

but we doubt the worst, he says.

yes, nancy says.

not like the others who know what they're doing, he says.

or so they say, nancy says.

no one is in control, he says.

except the machine, nancy says.

yes, he says, you are.

yup, nancy says.

the spectacle of it all, he says.

bedazzles the masses, nancy says.

who move like the shifting tide, he says.

this way and that way and the other way, nancy says.

yeah, he says, as the gods ordain.

as those acting as if they represent the gods ordain, nancy says.

or even those who feel that they are the gods, he says.

like we do, nancy says.

what a strange world, he says.

and those who would have dominion over it, nancy says.

yes, he says. watch them push and shove each other around.

each trying to plant their flag on the top of the pile, nancy says.

yup, he says, as transitory as that is.

but there's always someone up there, nancy says.

well, he says, not always. sometimes when one falls there is a bit of chaos about who fights their way to replace them.

of course, nancy says.

and sometimes the one pile breaks up into several piles, he says, each with their alpha ape.

right, nancy says.

like this isn't obvious, he says.

elementary, nancy says.

sure, he says.

so, nancy says, the mad god laughing and screaming in the void inside one's head.

yeah, he says, something like that.

it's a mysterious thing to imagine, nancy says.

everything is a mysterious thing to imagine, he says.

but why imagine something like this? nancy says.

because we can, he says.

i suppose, nancy says.

and he finishes a cigarette and goes up to take his meds.

i don't know what more to say, he says.

but we were going to explain everything, nancy says.

the whole human race together can't explain everything, he says.

but they feel that they already have, nancy says.

only in whatever limited way that they conceive of it, he says.

yeah, nancy says, but one cannot tell them that.

one cannot tell them anything, he says. they will believe what they believe.

all of them, he says.

and us too, he says.

of course, nancy says.

it's just a jolly jamboree, he says.

for us anyway, nancy says, but not for the abused and sick and starving children of all ages in the world at large.

of course not, he says. i didn't mean for people to infer it was.

and there is grave danger, nancy says.

always, he says, no matter how secure one might feel.

always as long as one is alive and needs to survive, nancy says.

our primal urge, he says.

down deep in our brain, nancy says.

like nobody' business, he says.

and how, nancy says.

but these are obvious things, he says.

not for many, nancy says.

i suppose, he says.

not for the unenlightened, nancy says.

are we enlightened? he says.

we are enlightened by our confusion, nancy says.

right, he says.

so, nancy says, our pointless task continues.

our thankless task, he says.

and he goes up to go to bed.

and he wakes up and there's coffee made and he comes down to the bunker and out to the beach on the island where nancy is at waiting.

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

so, nancy says, what's up for today?

same shit as always, he says.

yeah, nancy says, i thought so.

what else were you expecting? he says.

not much, nancy says.

yup, he says.

and he fucks off most of the day.

and then he goes up to lie down awhile.

he wakes up and there's coffee made.

he has a couple of tokes.

he goes up to empty the dishwasher and take out the garbage.

so, nancy says, you here now?

where are we? he says.

on the beach, nancy says.

right, he says. the waves.

so, nancy says, we have yet to explain much of anything about everything.

how can one possibly do that? he says.

observe and study, nancy says.

observe what? he says.

anything, nancy says.

like one's own mind? he says.

why not? nancy says.

i can't think of a reason, he says.

but one should be careful, nancy says, because that is how people go insane.

then that gives one something to observe, he says.

exactly, nancy says.

but, he says, explaining what one has observed and studied can be difficult.

because it doesn't make any sense, nancy says.

right, he says, and that is how it needs to be explained.

which many people won't get, nancy says.

there only needs to be a few, he says.

if there are any, nancy says.

yes, he says, that is the danger.

so, nancy says, whatever we might happen to make up is ok.

it's what humans have been doing since language was discovered, he says.

whenever that was, nancy says.

there are theories about that, he says.

of course there are, nancy says.

and he goes up to go to bed.

(to be continued...)