7/11/10

and he wakes up and makes coffee.

he comes down to the bunker and out to the house by the garden where everyone is at.

hey, they say.

hey, he says.

you awake? nancy says.

sort of, he says. working on it.

so, steve says, what wisdom shall we impart today?

as we puke our guts up, frank says, and expect others to enjoy the show.

it does seem to be a matter of that, he says, doesn't it?

it's pretty disgusting, frank says.

lick up the blood, steve says.

yeah, he says, all that.

and his baby's on her way home but having trouble with flights.

he misses her.

and he goes up for more coffee.

so, adam says, we're just a bunch of freaks?

we were saying that, he says, weren't we?

everyone feels that they're the odd one out, carla says.

except for those who feel that they're in, he says.

but in with what? adam says.

in with what they feel is happening, frank says.

but there is nothing happening, steve says, except meaningless dada.

but it means something to them, he says.

it means they fit in and belong somewhere, frank says.

but somewhere is nowhere, steve says.

but try telling them that, frank says.

no one listens to nothing, he says. they all go their miserable merrie way.

and we're trying to come up with something to change that? adam says.

one can only change things for oneself, carla says.

one can only change oneself, he says.

often not even that, frank says.

well, he says, one really can't change oneself. but one can change one's attitude one feels about oneself.

i doubt even that, steve says. we are all automatons of our nature and nurture.

yes, he says, there is that argument.

and that's only even if one tries to change, frank says. so many people don't give it a thought.

are we asking people to change? adam says.

only if they feel they need to, he says.

otherwise, frank says, fuck it.

yeah, nancy says, find the groove of oneself and dig it.

but many people hate themselves, adam says.

then get in that groove and dig it, steve says.

and he goes up to take his meds.

all we can say is gazorbnik, he says. people can either dig it or not. it doesn't matter to us.

we got ours, steve says, let everyone else find theirs.

so, frank says, why are we bothering with this?

we have found it to be amusing, he says.

and everything is for our amusement, nancy says.

and we put it out there for others to be amused by, he says.

and it doesn't matter if they are or not, nancy says.

this becomes absurd, steve says.

it always has been absurd, he says.

it becomes the more absurd the more we try to order it so that it might mean something, steve says.

the only meaning it needs to have is gazorbnik, he says.

and gazorbnik is absurd, steve says.

it is perhaps the most absurd thing there is, he says.

you may be right, steve says. a word made up by a madman that is to save an entire planet.

no, he says. it is only meant to amuse an entire planet.

yeah, frank says, everyone can save themselves if they can.

billions won't be able to, steve says.

it would seem to be what very well might happen, he says.

it all ultimately could be for the best, frank says.

yeah, steve says, a few billion less people on the planet would be beneficial.

some want to see the world population brought down to a billion, he says.

after this is all done, steve says, they may get their wish.

of course these are people who see themselves surviving, frank says.

of course, he says.

there are those who feel the population should be zero, steve says. we should all quit breeding and die out.

then what will the gods amuse themselves with? adam says.

who knows? frank says. what did they amuse themselves with before?

this and that and the other thing, he says.

until they created us to fuck with, steve says.

and he has a couple more tokes.

and he goes up for yogurt and to piss.

he stretches his back out.

he sits hunched over the keyboard all the time.

halfway into a fetal position.

enough about the gods, he says. they may or may not exist except in our collective imagination.

it's just us imposing meaning onto the universe, steve says.

as we are free to do as we will, he says.

but it a delusion, steve says. it is a product of false consciousness.

it is a mass delusion, he says. what is one to do about it?

one can resist, steve says. one can free oneself from it.

but the spectacle of it surrounds us at every given moment, he says.

one needs to learn to avoid as much of it as one can get away with, steve says.

is that what we are advising others to do? frank says.

or one may dive into the spectacle of it all, he says.

whatever turns one's crank, steve says, and floats one's boat.

so, carla says, we're saying whatever?

it seems that way, frank says.

whatever is meaningless, steve says.

of course it is, he says.

and he goes up to piss.

so, carla says, there's no point in saying it.

saying whatever amuses us, he says.

yeah, steve says, let the others figure it out.

only so far as it might amuse them to do so, he says.

and he decides that he should edit the last part.

and he watches a baseball game and falls asleep.

and his baby comes home.

yay.

and he finishes editing and posts the last part.

and there's coffee made.

and he comes down to the bunker while his baby crashes out.

he has a couple of tokes.

so, jane says, is this all just meaningless?

there is that way of looking at it, he says, but not necessarily.

only if that works in one's best interest, frank says.

but you guys all seem to delight in wallowing in it, jane says.

does it seem that way? he says. i don't think we mean for it to.

yeah, adam says, because we have found meaning in it.

our own amusement, steve says.

that's what we'd like it to be for everyone, he says, though we're not sure how.

yeah, frank says, without laying down rules and regulations about it.

and that's never worked in the past, steve says.

but we need to stop doing injury and harm to each other, carla says.

but what is injury and harm is sort of hard to define, steve says.

it should be perfectly obvious, carla says.

but it isn't, steve says.

not to you maybe, carla says, but i see it very clearly.

well, steve says, we're all not you.

no, carla says, obviously not.

we can only hope that things happen out that way, nancy says.

yes, he says. and do whatever we individually can do to try to get it to happen.

but there are others on the opposite side doing the same thing in the opposite direction, steve says.

yes, frank says. and more than likely they are heavily armed.

let the slaughter of the innocents begin, steve says.

unfortunately that may yet happen, he says.

everybody's on somebody's death list, steve says.

probably, he says.

definitely, steve says.

this is why we try not to take sides, he says, but watch and wait patiently in the middle of it all.

and whatever may come our way, steve says.

all that we have no control over, he says.

which is everything, frank says.

except for ourselves, he says.

yeah, steve says, as we're taken out and shot.

it could happen that way for a lot of us, he says.

and he goes up to poop.

but it turns out all he had to do was piss and fart.

oh well.

and his back molar is infected and he chews gum on it to feel how much it hurt.

he lights a cigarette.

so, frank says, the mind shift/ship will pull us through.

the mind shift/ship is gazorbnik, he says. the aliens told me gazorbnik powers their spaceships.

and what does that mean? adam says.

it's just another piece of the puzzle, he says.

the confused web we are weaving of our understanding, nancy says.

something like that, he says.

not everyone would admit to being as confused as we are, frank says, but everybody must be.

not unless they are mad too, he says.

how can one live in the world and not be mad? frank says.

i suppose, he says.

so, steve says, the others do not believe that they are mad. that's the difference.

you've known you were mad since you understood what it meant to be mad, nancy says.

you were programmed to be mad, frank says.

yes, he says, i am quite well aware of all that dada. it is meaningless.

i think it means quite a bit, frank says.

yes, steve says, it means that this is all being written by a madman.

so? he says.

it is not to be trusted, steve says.

but who else knows more about madness than one who is mad? he says.

is that what this is about, adam says, madness?

hasn't it from the beginning? he says.

i thought it was about gazorbnik, adam says.

gazorbnik is madness, he says.

it is the madness of god going mad laughing and screaming alone in the void, steve says.

it is the madness of finding paradise, frank says.

it is the madness of just plain going mad, he says.

yet somehow remaining in doubt that one is actually mad, nancy says.

it has never seemed more clear, he says, but at the same time absolutely confused.

many would feel that way, nancy says.

and it's those who we try to reach, he says, however way we can.

a message in a bottle from our island, nancy says, to whoever wherever whenever.

yes, he says.

but so many will reject this altogether, adam says.

many just won't get it, frank says.

but this is the only way it can be to explain anything, adam says.

as long as they get the part about doing no injury or harm to anyone, carla says.

but each will decide that for oneself, steve says.

unfortunately, carla says, that seems to be how it is.

we cannot save the others, steve says. they can only save themselves.

and this is one example of that it can be done, he says.

yeah, frank says, if we can do it then anyone can.

but doesn't that involve one having to go mad? adam says.

or maybe realizing that one is already mad, steve says.

or neither, he says. madness is not a precondition. there is nothing that is a precondition.

one just needs to do it, nancy says.

do what? adam says.

do what it takes to experience everything and groove on it and dig it, nancy says.

the orgasm of the universe, jane says.

that might be how one experiences it, nancy says. others may experience it differently.

of course, frank says, nothing is ever the same twice.

and nothing ever changes, steve says.

the changing changelessness of everything, nancy says.

like the waves on the beach, he says.

yes, nancy says. like waves through the whole universe.

like the waving burning flags in the field of flags, he says.

stand up and salute, frank says.

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

and he goes to see if he wants to eat anything they might have to eat and decides not.

tomorrow he needs to go to the store.

but then he decides on a bratdog and goes up to nuke one.

while his baby is sleeping.

and he decides to go up and lie down with her awhile.

and they wake up and come down to the bunker after he takes his meds.

he sits before the computer wondering this and that and the other thing.

molly roams around.

comes by to be petted.

he pets her.

he chews some more gum to feel how much his tooth hurts.

enjoying the small sharp pain of it as he bites down.

his baby watches her tv.

he listens to pandora.

some jazz.

he takes out the garbage and recycling.

so, jane says, how many times you guys going to go through all this?

as long as it amuses us, steve says.

you guys are amused by the dumbest shit, jane says.

or the most brilliant shit, he says.

i doubt that, jane says. even i know better and i don't know nothing.

we don't know nothing too, he says.

that's kinda obvious, jane says.

there is nothing new, adam says.

everything is new with each moment, frank says.

it's all just new combinations of the same old shit, adam says.

that's a rather dull outlook, frank says.

it's the only one to have, adam says.

if one chooses to feel that way about it.

it's not how i choose to feel, adam says. that's the way it is.

but there are any number of possibilities, frank says.

like what? adam says.

like everything being a big fat marshmallow, frank says.

what good does that do? adam says.

it's something new, frank says.

i suppose, adam says.

and he lights a cigarette and decides he'll go to bed.

he wakes up and makes coffee and comes down to the bunker and out to the house by the garden where the others are at.

hey, they say.

hey, he says.

so, nancy says, you awake?

it feels that way, he says.

good, nancy says. shall we continue this madness?

fine by me, he says.

so, frank says, what have we discovered so far?

we've discovered that we know nothing, steve says.

and nothing is all we will ever know, adam says.

it's pointless, steve says.

save for our amusement, he says.

are we still amused? frank says.

i'm scared, adam says.

scared of what? frank says.

scared of everything, adam says. it could turn on us at any moment.

yeah, he says, i know how you feel.

i'm more afraid of everyone than everything, steve says. i don't trust people. they're all selfish greedy assholes.

yeah, he says. they'll put one out quicker than shit.

and there's not one thing one can do about it, steve says, as many people have discovered.

nope, he says.

and he goes up for more coffee.

well, nancy says, this is all depressing.

life is depressing, steve says.

but one still manages to find the joy in it, he says.

mixed with an equal portion of despair, steve says.

one experiences the full range of emotions, he says.

and they all blend together into a gray puddle in the middle, steve says.

it can seem that way, he says.

there's no way out, steve says.

there was a way out for me, he says.

for the moment, steve says, but there's rough weather ahead.

yeah, he says. true enough.

so, nancy says, we have nothing to offer anyone?

haven't we reached this conclusion before? frank says.

yes, steve says. there is no reason for anyone to read this.

except as it might amuse them to do so, he says.

and who is supposed to be amused by this? frank says.

everyone, he says.

but it's not very amusing, adam says. at times it gets rather grim.

grim is reality, steve says.

if one can face that, he says, one can face anything.

but people want it all happy happy happy, steve says.

it can be that, he says, if one sets one's mind to it.

if one becomes delusional, steve says.

that's the price that's paid, he says.

it's not so bad being delusional, adam says.

until one's wake up call comes in, steve says.

yeah, he says. that's what happened to me.

and now you've just buried yourself in it deeper, steve says.

it seems that i have, he says.

but not for long, steve says.

perhaps not, he says.

everything turns upside down once in awhile, frank says.

i am expecting that, he says. but i've still got the island no matter what happens.

for all the good that does one in the real world, steve says.

it does absolutely no good in the real world, he says. in fact it is quite a detriment.

one finds one can no longer function, frank says.

one is useless to the others, adam says, and they usually won't tolerate that.

except as they have set up the state to provide for us, he says.

as long as the state lasts, steve says.

yeah, he says. and maybe not for very much longer.

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

it seems pointless to speculate, adam says.

it seems pointless to do anything, steve says.

i do as little a i can get away with, he says.

just sit around up in your head all day, frank says. that's some life.

even in your imagination you don't do anything, steve says.

what should i be doing? he says.

saving the world, frank says.

i thought that's what we were trying to do, adam says.

but we have come up with nothing, frank says.

there's nothing to come up with, steve says. we all each struggle with it on our own.

everyone climbing over each other to save themselves, frank says.

while we are just pushed to the bottom and are forgotten, steve says.

it happens, he says.

like so many billions of others, frank says.

but we are not concerned with any of them, he says.

why should we be? steve says.

like any of them are concerned about us, frank says.

nor should they be, he says. they've got their own problems.

so, nancy says, can we move on from this? it's getting us nowhere.

sure, he says.

what else should we move onto? adam says.

i disagree with what you were saying, carla says. we should be concerned about the others.

we are concerned, frank says. there's just not diddly squat we can do about any of it.

it's not like we are really trying, carla says.

we stay out of the way and take up as little as we can, he says, and let them have the whole world to themselves to do as they please with it.

but what about all those who grab as much as they can and assume control and dominate everyone around them? carla says.

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

like there really is one, steve says.

there is always the revolution, frank says.

it comes and goes like the waves on the beach, he says.

i suppose, steve says. but what has it ever done but create more problems?

we slowly evolve and progress, he says.

progress toward what? adam says.

toward peace, love and understanding, carla says.

it could be, he says, however boring that would be.

and like we'd ever get there, steve says.

yup, he says.

and he goes up to poop and take a shower and to shave.

and he sits before the computer wondering at the meaningless of it all.

life without purpose except to keep oneself amused in whatever way one can.

and we try this and that and the other thing and nothing seems to be it for long.

as he hides out down in the bunker from it all.

as molly hops on top of the monitor.

as things are uncertain.

and he sees the doctor this afternoon about getting his medications changed.

the ones he's taking aren't making it.

he's beginning to feel psychotic again.

it happens.

and he is no one doing nothing in a world where one is supposed to be someone doing something.

everyone doing everything.

look at all of them go.

the grand parade around and around.

it just adds to his confusion.

he can't figure out what's right and what's wrong.

is it him or is it them?

who's crazy and who's not?

and thinking that will drive one crazy.

if he could get to it.

whatever it might be or not.

he doesn't know.

and why does being crazy even have to be an issue?

we are all crazy living in this crazy world.

ha ha ha .

but there's a lot to be said about him being lazy and not crazy.

one of the deadly sins.

but it's not work but the people he can't stand.

as he picks his nose.

what else is he supposed to do?

he doesn't know.

he doesn't know diddly squat.

he's stuck his head so far up his ass it came out as his head again.

that's about where he's at.

and a spoon is not a spoon.

and his is a story among billions of others.

everyone going crazy.

everyone out of their minds in one way or another.

and his baby takes him to the doctor's.

and the young resident punk is of no use whatsoever.

he comes home without any drugs.

still crazy as fuck.

and april's made coffee.

oh boy.

he wants everything to go away.

he wants everyone to go away.

and his grandson felix comes over for them to watch while his mom's at work.

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

and nancy comes by and sits with him.

what's up? nancy says.

not much of anything, he says.

that isn't anything different, nancy says.

nope, he says.

and he goes up to take his meds.

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

i don't know, he says. i don't think there is anywhere to go.

nowhere? nancy says.

nope, he says.

now here? nancy says.

well, he says, we are now here. but so fucking what?

you having doubts? nancy says.

i always have doubts, he says. that's how i got here.

i thought you got here by going mad, nancy says.

and what do you think doubting everything will do to you? he says.

make one go mad? nancy says.

eventually, he says.

but everything turned out fine, nancy says.

only being about to sit down in a bunker before a computer and write nonsense all day and into the night is fine? he says.

what else would you rather be doing? nancy says.

nothing, he says.

then what are you complaining about? nancy says. you're doing a lot better off than many people.

for the moment, he says.

that's all there is, nancy says, is the moment.

but there is the future, he says.

worrying about the future will drive one mad, nancy says.

but humans worry about the future, he says. it's one of the curses of our consciousness.

yes, nancy says. humans are a mad species.

what else explains everything? he says.

what needs to be explained? nancy says.

humans like to explain things, he says.

another reason they are all mad, nancy says.

because our explanations all contradict one another, he says.

and there is nothing everyone can agree on, nancy says.

not one damn thing, he says. especially these supposed universal eternal truths people feel they have discovered.

that is the most mad of all madness, nancy says.

yeah, he says, but try convincing them that they are mad.

why do we need to convince them of that? nancy says. if they are happy like we are then what's the problem?

but they go around beating other people over the heads with it, he says.

that's true, nancy says. but we'll never change their minds.

probably not, he says.

and he goes up to piss.

so, nancy says, what would you change if you could?

i suppose some of carla's peace, love and understanding wouldn't hurt anything, he says.

but you always say how boring that would be, nancy says.

i don't think it's boring, he says. it's the others who would find it boring. they'd find ways to screw it up just for the excitement of it.

yeah, nancy says. they probably would. not to mention those who would hate peace, love and understanding and would rebel against it.

that's what hell is for, he says.

i thought you didn't believe in hell, nancy says, that you wouldn't set one foot in heaven if anyone goes to hell.

not if hell is punishment, he says. but if that is where others find their amusement then why not?

no reason, nancy says.

there's people who get off on it, he says. they actively seek it out.

it would be their paradise, nancy says.

as we have found ours, he says.

there are some who would find the island to be hell, nancy says.

to hell with them , he says.

exactly, nancy says. i think that's sort of the point.

and felix goes home.

and he decides to go to bed.

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

hey, she says.

hey, he says.

you awake? nancy says.

yes, he says, i believe i am.

welcome to hell, nancy says.

thank you, he says.

i was being serious, nancy says.

yes, he says, i know. this is hell.

hell often disguises itself as paradise, nancy says, to lure those in who only discover too late that it's hell.

that's what happened with me, he says.

we are your tormentors, nancy says.

it would seem that way, he says.

it doesn't bother you? nancy says.

why should it? he says.

most people don't want to be in hell, nancy says.

i can think of no other place to be, he says. i am quite comfortable being here.

but you're going crazy, nancy says.

not here i'm not, he says. that's only happening in the world.

ah, nancy says, the wicked world.

i hate the world, he says. that's where hell really is.

fuck the world, nancy says.

right, he says.

so, nancy says, you wanna go join the others?

i'm kinda done with them for awhile, he says. i like just talking with you.

so, nancy says, what do we talk about?

i don't know, he says. everything?

how does one talk about everything? nancy says. there's so fucking much of it.

there are those who believe mathematics explains it all, he says.

that's only the mechanics of it, nancy says. what about the soul?

there's those who believe god explains that, he says.

but that's all imaginary, nancy says.

he goes up to get and make more coffee.

waiting for the electrician.

imagination is how we perceive the gods, he says.

imagination is how we perceive everything, nancy says.

there is that theory, he says, yes.

there are any number of theories, nancy says, and so many arguments about them all people like to engage in.

that would be fine, he says, if they didn't go to war about it.

if we could sit down and reasonably discuss them, nancy says.

but many people's only reason is a gun or a bomb, he says.

all about what's only in our imaginations, nancy says.

that's about it, he says.

and then there's our theory about gazorbnik, nancy says.

a reasonable argument against all other theories, he says.

an irrationalogical reasonable argument, nancy says.

that's why it will be so easily dismissed by most of the others, he says.

it has nothing to do with the real world, nancy says.

the rationalogical real world, he says. or what others pretend is rationalogical but often is irrationalogical.

it's relative and subjective, nancy says.

as is everything, he says.

according to many theories, nancy says.

he goes up to piss.

the rationalogical contains the irrationalogical and the irrationalogical contains the rationalogical, he says.

infinity is everywhere, nancy says.

if there is such a thing as infinity, he says. it may be only our imagination.

we imagine everything, nancy says.

if only others would see it that way, he says.

if only they would all agree with us, nancy says.

stupid fuckers, he says.

yeah, nancy says. but everyone wants others to agree with them.

but there will be always those who will disagree, he says, if only just to disagree for its own sake.

it's a crazy mixed up world, nancy says. it's amazing that we can agree enough on anything to get things done.

but mostly by forced agreement and labor by those who have the guns, he says.

yes, nancy says, there is always that.

and he decides to have a couple of tokes.

he coughs and farts.

but we are a co-operative species, he says. that is how we survived and came to dominate everything.

much to our confusion and dismay, nancy says.

and we follow leaders who promise to change all that, he says.

ipso facto, nancy says.

but everyone should follow us, he says.

we'll brighten their future, nancy says.

follow the way of gazorbnik, he says.

and one figures out what that means and how to do it on one's own, nancy says.

that's the individual element of our revolution, he says.

we have a revolution? nancy says.

we are the revolution, he says. the evolution revolution.

those who fit and adapt and survive, nancy says.

and pass their seed onto new generations whether that is with children or ideas, he says.

or both, nancy says.

it can be both, he says.

but we have too many of both, nancy says.

but many of both will be exterminated when the world comes to an end, he says.

yes, nancy says.

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

he talks with his baby awhile.

she's always saying he never talks.

he tries to but has nothing to say that he feels would make sense to anyone but himself.

like this that he writes.

he mostly likes to listen to other people.

they often have interesting things to say – but not always.

so, he says, this is pretty much what we know about everything.

this is pretty much what we know about anything, nancy says.

a lot of nothing, he says.

that's for sure, nancy says. we're not geniuses.

right, he says.

but one might find some of it useful and/or amusing, nancy says.

yes, he says. that's what it's here for just the way others made things available to people like me.

are there people like you? nancy says.

not exactly, he says, but close enough.

we are them, nancy says.

exactly, he says.

but, nancy says, we're just some regular freaks who don't know much but who speculate about everything.

that's all we are and all we can do, he says.

and there might be others around similar to us who might dig it, nancy says.

maybe, he says.

there must be, nancy says. look at all the billions of combinations we are. some had to pop up like ours did.

maybe we're the only ones, he says.

i doubt that, nancy says.

i've looked around and have seen little of this sort of thing, he says.

that's perfect for us, nancy says. we'll be unique.

we'll still be totally mad, he says.

but everyone is mad according to our theory, nancy says.

yes, he says. to be in the world one must be mad. but everyone's not mad all the same way.

yes, nancy says. there are freaks of every possibility.

and some are freaks of joining collective groups, he says.

some look for the comfort of joining elite exclusive fascist groups from small circles of friends to global organizations, nancy says.

yes, he says. i think we've gone into this before.

it bears repeating, nancy says.

hammer it home, he says.

like all good propaganda should, nancy says.

is this propaganda? he says.

of course it is, nancy says. most statements people make are propaganda of some sort or another.

and he goes up to let the electrician in and get some peaches.

but some propaganda is good, he says.

yeah, nancy says. the propaganda we agree with which we feel is just someone speaking the truth for once.

but everybody's got their truth, he says. and some are in violent opposition.

yeah, nancy says. many feel that they cannot share the same planet with others.

and we propose to put an end to all that monkey business, he says.

if our theory can pull its own pants up, nancy says, there is that possibility.

i think it's more amusing with its pants down around its ankles, he says.

yes, nancy says.

he takes another toke.

so, he says, here we are with our usual meaningless dada.

delighted by it all, nancy says.

and terrified, he says.

all part of the joy of it, nancy says.

and it is such a joy, he says.

yes, nancy says.

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

hey, they all say to each other.

so, steve says, what's up?

we've just reached the point of it all being meaningless dada, he says.

again? steve says.

yes, he says.

but there is so much meaning for it to have, adam says.

like what? steve says.

like just meaning everything, adam says.

everything that exists, he says.

wouldn't everything have to include everything that doesn't exist as well? adam says.

according to some theories, he says, yes.

but, steve says, what does our theory state?

it could go either way, he says.

of course, steve says.

so, adam says, it has so many other meanings too.

it would have endless meanings, nancy says.

it could, he says. in theory.

but we want truth, steve says.

pick a truth, he says, any truth.

we want truth reveled, adam says.

the truth reveled is that it is all meaningless dada, he says.

we make up out own ideas about it after that realization, nancy says.

just the way apes would do it, he says.

they anthropomorphize it, adam says.

many people still do that, he says.

god is he or she but rarely it, nancy says.

it is it, adam says.

and/or it is not it, he says.

and from that everything is created, adam says.

perhaps, nancy says.

so, steve says, this madness continues.

as it always will as long as i am alive, he says.

this is the last ticket, steve says.

do we say we have it? nancy says.

it? he says.

yes, nancy says. are we saying we have it?

we have something, adam says.

and is that something it? nancy says.

it's it for us, he says. whether it's it for anyone else we will probably never know.

and what does being it mean? nancy says.

it is the thing itself, he says.

and what is the thing itself? nancy says.

everything, he says.

so, nancy says. it is everything.

ultimately, he says.

i thought it was ultimately nothing, steve says.

that too, he says. and at the same time.

or somewhere in the middle between the two, adam says.

that seems about right, he says.

who can prove us wrong about that? adam says.

no one in truth, he says.

we're speaking truth? nancy says.

why not? he says.

because we don't know what it is, nancy says.

we don't even know if it is, steve says.

it is and we know what it is, he says.

can we be certain? nancy says.

there is no truth more certain than ours, he says.

the subjective truth or our understanding, nancy says.

the ultimate truth of all understanding, he says.

i doubt that, steve says.

as it should be doubted, he says.

yes, nancy says.

and what about gazorbnik? adam says.

it's probably the truest thing of all, he says.

so, nancy says, one should gazorbnik as much as possible.

correct, he says.

and there are all manners of gazorbniking, steve says.

it depends on what one decide gazorbnik to mean, he says.

experiencing the orgasm of the universe, nancy says.

one may decide on that option, he says. and any other.

all of them theoretical, nancy says.

except ours, he says, which is truth.

but what truth? adam says.

the truth that takes forever to be reveled, he says, across the eternal universe.

if it is eternal, steve says.

the theories do not agree on that point, he says.

he goes up to piss and comes back down and cleans the litter box.

but even if there is beginning and end adam says, it doesn't matter.

it might be both eternal and with beginning and end, he says.

according to our theory, adam says.

according to our truth, he says.

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

do we really want to pronounce truth? steve says.

if we have to, he says.

why would we have to? steve says.

so people will believe us, he says.

but i thought we wanted their doubt, steve says.

we will have that as well, he says.

yes, steve says. i'm sure we will.

so, he says, as the day wears on.

is it wearing thin? nancy says.

it can be at times, he says. other times it's as thick as pea soup.

and sometimes both at once, steve says.

yup, he says.

then he decides to imagine carla and frank and jane showing up and sitting with them in a circle with jane next to nancy clipped to her leash.

hey, they all say.

so, frank says, where we at?

the same meaningless dada, steve says.

we have just pronounced our theory of everything as truth, he says.

oh dear, carla says. should we do that?

it doesn't matter, he says, we did it.

and now we suffer the consequences, frank says.

i like a good firm hard truth rammed up my ass, jane says.

i've got some truth for you, frank says.

ask my mistress, jane says.

and nancy consents and frank and jane crawl to the center of the circle and frank mounts jane from behind and gives her some up the ass while pulling her head back by her hair while pumping into her until they both cum together at once then frank stands up and pisses all over jane with a steady stream jane catches in her mouth and gargles and swallows which makes frank hard again so jane sucks her off.

and they light cigarettes after except adam.

and jane runs down to the water to wash off and comes back to be leashed by nancy again.

so, nancy says, does this mean we can't be giving maybe answers to everything?

why not? he says.

if we know the truth, nancy says, should we have more certain answers?

not necessarily, he says.

then what makes our truth different than our theory? nancy says.

there isn't any, he says.

then what makes our theory truth? frank says.

we just say that it is, he says.

that's what other people say about their theories, steve says.

how do we prove it's truth? frank says.

we don't, he says. we let other people prove it's not.

and if they do? frank says.

they have to read and understand our truth before they can criticize it, he says.

and who among them will do that? nancy says.

few, he says.

but those few could turn into our many, adam says.

how so? frank says.

if they come to realize our truth and then convert others to it, adam says.

i don't think this is that sort of truth, he says.

i don't think it's any sort of truth, carla says.

that's your opinion, he says.

it's mine as well, frank says. it should only be a theory.

truth is for losers, steve says.

i agree, adam says.

i don't care, nancy says. call it what you want.

yeah, jane says.

he has another toke.

so, he says, we ix-nay the truth.

bad idea, frank says.

i suppose, he says.

some people see the word truth and they run away, adam says.

some do that with the word theory, he says.

i'd rather people who believe in theory than truth, steve says.

i suppose, he says.

so, adam says, where does this leave us?

right back smack in the middle of our theory, frank says.

where we belong, nancy says.

clowns to the left of me, he says, jokers to the right.

here we are stuck in the middle with you, nancy says.

it could be worse, he says.

it could be better, nancy says.

that's what it's like in the middle, he says.

the best of all possible worlds, steve says, and the worst of all possible worlds.

yup, he says.

but, jane says, don't some people live in the extremes of those?

everyone experiences everything, he says. it's the greatest show on earth.

and we have ringside seats, nancy says.

i thought we were in the balcony, he says.

i decided to move us up front face to face with the action, nancy says.

that's scary, he says.

you need to be scared, nancy says. you've led too comfortable an existence.

i've been scared, he says.

on drugs, nancy says. this time it'll be real.

i just need to learn to gazorbnik my way through it, he says.

if you can, nancy says.

and the gods smile on fools, he says.

if you want to put your faith on gods, nancy says.

they've been kind to me so far, he says.

and he goes up to make coffee and empty the dishwasher.

his baby on the phone trying to straighten out her bank accounts and getting the runaround.

and he imagines them all going away except him and nancy again.

so, nancy says, now what?

so much for the truth will set one free, he says.

that was kind of a dumb idea, nancy says.

yeah, he says. but there are those out there looking for truth.

let them believe what they see, nancy says.

and let them eat cake, he says.

that too, nancy says.

so, he says, we each find our own truth.

but there are so many institutionalized truths of every sort of ilk, nancy says, ready to suck one into them.

for most that seems to be hunky dory fine, he says. it's us misfit freaks who have to fend for ourselves.

and that's what we're doing, nancy says.

yeah, he says. we found what seems true to us but that doesn't have to mean diddly squat to anyone else.

right, nancy says. let them find their own as they will.

this is just one example of how that might be done in any sort of wacky way one might want to do it or not, he says.

right, nancy says. like shooting fish in a barrel.

it's not a blueprint, he says.

certainly not, nancy says.

improvise, he says.

experiment, nancy says.

but, he says, one should ideally allow others to do the same.

but others may wish to do one harm in the process, nancy says.

it happens, he says.

yes, nancy says.

we stay out of the way as much as possible, he says.

and we've been fortunate in that regard, nancy says, having the state provide for us while we hide ourselves away.

but others find it other ways, he says.

maybe, she says.

and he watches baseball awhile.

and he has another toke.

it's all a joke.

his baby watches her tv.

he listens to pandora ornette coleman jazz.

he feels a little of the heebee jeebees.

so, he says, freedom is not measured by how much one demands for oneself but in how much one allows others.

one could look at it that way, nancy says.

but in this selfish greedy world, he says. things operate a lot differently.

things operate the way they are evolutionarily supposed to operate, nancy says.

i suppose, he says.

and have we mentioned that everything we might say are lies? nancy says.

yes, he says, i think we have.

it bears repeating, nancy says.

i guess so, he says.

and he yawns.

and he goes up to lie down awhile.

he wakes up to take his meds.

he has a couple of tokes or three.

his baby watches her tv.

he escapes into pandora jazz and back to the beach on the island where nancy is still at.

so, nancy says, all we have to offer is a bunch of made up lies.

something like that, he says.

so, nancy says, what good is that for anyone?

they must judge for themselves what to doubt and what to believe, he says.

but people do that already, nancy says.

but this is to become aware that that is what one is doing, he says.

to gazorbnik? nancy says.

why not? he says.

so, nancy says, and this is the first day of the rest of one's life.

according to our theory, he says.

but that is a meaningless statement, nancy says.

according to many theories included in with our theory, he says.

right, nancy says.

so, he says, any more meaningless statements we can make?

all our statements may be meaningless, nancy says.

or may not, he says.

one must decide for oneself, nancy says.

as we keep stating, he says.

as our theory states, nancy says.

right, he says.

as we spiral inward to point zero, nancy says.

i like zero, he says. it's my favorite number.

but is it a number? nancy says.

i think there is a argument either way about that, he says.

yes, nancy says, there would be the way this world is with all us apes arguing and fighting about things that are ultimately meaningless.

as we are evolutionarily adapted to do so, he says.

what a funny thing that is, nancy says.

ha ha ha, he says.

and then there's always death, nancy says.

it don't scare me, he says, though the actual event of dying sort of worries me.

it could be rather unpleasant, nancy says.

it could be rather nasty, he says.

yup, nancy says.

or it could be like waking from a dream, he says.

it could be that, nancy says. it could be anything.

yes, he says. no one knows.

no one living, nancy says.

nope, he says.

he has another toke.

so, nancy says, it continues to be meaningless dada.

it certainly does, he says.

certainly? nancy says. can we be so sure?

there are many who are, he says.

but what about us, nancy says.

we are them, he says.

right, nancy says.

but, he says, we manage to find meaning in all of it.

if everything is infinite then there would be some, nancy says.

maybe, he says.

or not, nancy says.

so, he says, why are there car chases on tv and not waves on a beach?

the same reasons the gods create such a world as this, nancy says. it's amusing to be excited for the gods and for many people.

oh, he says, the joy of it.

yes, nancy says.

and he goes to bed.

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.

hey, she says.

hey, he says.

awake? nancy says.

getting there, he says.

getting here, nancy says.

you can't get there from here, he says.

but everyone is trying to get there, nancy says.

the promised land, he says.

we've pretty much fucked that up, nancy says. turned it into another armed camp.

yeah, he says, pretty much.

all prisoners of war, nancy says.

all thinking they've found paradise, he says.

how silly, nancy says.

yup, he says.

so, nancy says, where we at with everything now?

always right back where we started, he says.

the here and now, nancy says.

as we imagine it otherwise, he says.

as we pretend different, nancy says.

as for most it seems to be a living hell, he says.

hell can be anywhere, nancy says.

all of our own creation, he says.

yup, nancy says.

so, he says, is there any way out of this?

i don't think so, nancy says.

yeah, he says, it's pretty persistent.

it hangs on us like some sort of skin fungus, nancy says.

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

and his baby gets up.

and he has a couple of tokes.

so, he says, i want to imagine you having sex with an alien.

we need the woman in the blue dress, nancy says.

i wonder where'd she be during the day, he says.

well, nancy says, if she were a working woman she'd be down by the docks.

let's go see, he says.

they fly off to the docks and look around and don't see the woman in the blue dress and decide to wait and see sitting on a bench and in awhile the woman in the blue dress does come strolling along and up to them and agrees to call a spaceship and she whistles and a spaceship soon hovers over the park and lands and the ramp slides out and an alien wiggles out and up to them.

yes? it says. what do you want?

to have sex with you, nancy says.

ok, it says.

and a couple of tentacles reach out and pick nancy up and suspend her in air while 3 more tentacles come out and slither up her pussy and asshole and mouth and begin to pulsate while nancy squirms and shudders until a great torrent of goo cums gushing out her orifices as she cums herself squirting and gagging then the alien places her on the ground again where she collapses on her knees with panting breath.

and the alien turns and wiggles back up the ramp which slides shut as the spaceship takes off whispering to behind the clouds into the sun.

and nancy lights a cigarette with shaky hand.

so, nancy says, that was pretty fucking fantastic.

it looked like it, he says.

did you get off on watching it? nancy says.

i wouldn't be writing this otherwise, he says.

and for all the others who are amused by it reading it, nancy says.

yup, he says.

and they fly back to the beach after nancy pays the woman in the blue dress from a roll of bills she pulls out from where he does not see.

and adam and steve are there.

hey, they all say.

so, steve says, where we at?

heaven and hell, he says, in a paradise built for one.

we are them, steve says.

yes, he says, we are.

and he goes up for some yogurt and to piss.

and each need to find it for themselves, adam says.

so our theory would contend, he says.

our theory that holds no bounds, adam says.

our theory that holds no truths to be self-evident, steve says.

except that truth, he says.

every theory has its own truth, adam says. that's the whole point of having a theory is to prove one's subjectively perceived relative truth.

it would seem that way, he says.

even among those who would decry otherwise, steve says.

and who does not have their own theory and their own truth? he says.

not us, adam says.

we have a truth that is each and every truth that has ever been thought up by someone, he says.

which all pretty much contradict each other, nancy says.

and so our truth is obliterated, steve says.

we can only hope, he says.

and only doubt, steve says.

two sides of the same coin, he says.

flipped in the air, steve says.

to land we know not how, nancy says.

as it spins on edge undecided, adam says.

along on the pathless path, he says, to nowhere.

now here, nancy says.

but, steve says, this is all still meaningless dada.

yes, he says. we need to remind ourselves of that from time to time.

but it's the meaninglessness of the dada-ananda, nancy says.

yes, he says. deliberate irrationality – bliss.

is this dada enough for that? nancy says.

it's not dada at all, steve says.

no, he says, it's not.

which makes it dada, nancy says.

it could, he says. but i doubt it.

so, adam says, is this absurd?

i doubt that too, he says.

it is absurd to look for meaning in the face of absurdity, steve says.

we're just sitting around waiting for godot like everyone else, he says.

and some go out looking for it, adam says.

and many have given up, steve says.

all of which makes up the world we live in, he says.

for better and worse, nancy says.

yup, he says.

but the journey is the goal, adam says.

if one can remind oneself of that, he says.

it's not an easy thing to do, nancy says.

it means being here now, adam says.

and imagine what it might be, he says, that one would find amusing and find the groove of it and digging it.

anyone can do that, adam says.

not necessarily, nancy says. there are many who are in desperate pain and suffering who can't get to it.

i doubt that, steve says. i think it's a universal human behavior trait.

yes, he says, it could be that.

everyone's an ape, adam says.

yup, he says.

and that's what to gazorbnik means? adam says. to find what one finds amusing and find the groove of it and digging it?

sort of, he says.

each of us within our self-contained bubble paradise, steve says.

bursting in mid-air, he says.

fluttering down to earth on angel wings, adam says.

at angles, he says.

sideways, steve says.

so, nancy says, our mission is clear.

yes, he says. we are to gazorbnik as many people as we can get away with before the brain police come and get us.

we are them, steve says.

always have been, he says, and always will be.

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

and he has another toke.

and what crimes have we committed? adam says.

every crime there is that the others imagine we have committed, steve says.

and this is our confession, he says.

we are them, steve says.

yes, he says. now they can have us taken out and shot by their henchpeople.

they would never do it themselves, steve says. they've got principles.

we all contribute to the war effort, he says.

the war that can never be won unending, adam says.

all on the distant shores of the sea, he says.

and the storm they create on an otherwise calm sea, nancy says.

which we are in the eye of, he says.

to bask in the golden sun and deep blue skies, adam says.

the sun, nancy says, the original object of worship.

and still it holds its mystery, he says, no matter how much we have observed and calculated it.

the same goes for everything in the universe, steve says, from particles to galaxies.

it goes on forever in all directions from the infinitesimal to the infinite, he says.

not necessarily, nancy says.

of course not, he says.

the limits of it are beyond us, adam says.

it would seem so, he says.

all manipulated by a puppet master god, nancy says.

so some people believe, he says.

more than some, steve says.

right, he says.

not our god going mad that throws it all out randomly in order to be surprised by what it's creating, nancy says.

if i were god, steve says, that's the way i'd do it.

yeah, adam says, who wants to know everything?

how boring, steve says.

yup, he says. it would be to me too.

but you still struggle to know, nancy says.

of course i am, he says. i'm human.

as he sits before the computer and wonders.

the madman typing out words that are meaningless dada.

the world that is meaningless dada in a universe of meaningless dada.

what does one expect other than that?

but we expect to find meaning in it all.

and we define it for ourselves what we imagine that it might be.

at least those of us who can get here.

we are them.

gazorbnik.

so, steve says, where we at?

going around and around, nancy says.

the universe going around and around, he says.

so, adam says, where's that at?

the here and now, he says.

with god going mad laughing and screaming at the void inside one's head, steve says.

just as we imagine it, he says.

the perception of our imagination, adam says.

and maybe we do need to move onto something else, nancy says.

like what? he says.

i don't know, nancy says.

but this is all i think about, he says.

that is blatantly obvious, nancy says.

i would hope it would be, he says.

and this is still all for just your amusement? nancy says.

yes, he says. that is it's main purpose.

and for the amusement of others, adam says.

yes, he says. that is its secondary purpose.

and its third purpose? nancy says.

to explain everything, he says.

and that we have not yet done, steve says.

nor will we ever, he says. everything will always be a mystery to us though we may become gods.

now and forever, steve says.

like us becoming gods will ever happen, adam says.

one never knows, he says.

it'll never rationalogically happen, nancy says.

and it will only be irrationalogically perceived, he says.

in one's imagination, nancy says.

if one can get over oneself, he says.

whatever that means, steve says.

gain victory over oneself, he says.

whatever that means, steve says.

surrender to oneself, he says.

whatever that means, steve says.

and he goes up to piss and to make a burrito.

we can say whatever that means about everything, he says.

i thought that's what we were doing, steve says.

but it ultimately reduces it all to meaningless dada, he says.

which is what everything is, steve says.

yes, he says. in the extreme sense of things.

what is everything but if not extreme? adam says.

it's all mediocre, steve says.

extremely mediocre, he says.

nothing ever happens here, steve says.

let's hope not, he says.

and he decides to go to the store.

the trip was as uneventful as he would like.

he has another toke after finishing a cigarette.

it all keeps shifting, adam says.

everything is shifty, he says.

that's what makes it so amusing, steve says. one never knows what it might do next.

i don't want it to do anything next, he says.

nothing at all? steve says.

nothing, he says.

but then it becomes nothing, adam says.

that can't be helped, he says.

but then it can become anything, nancy says.

and he goes up to make coffee.

and anything can become something, adam says.

and something can become everything, nancy says.

if we imagine it being so, he says.

there are those who do just that, adam says.

yeah, steve says. they find something to call god.

that's the way we're programmed, he says.

that's the way we're hardwired, steve says, in the very synapses themselves.

it would seem so, he says. we all think the same.

but all those somethings people imagine into everything are just meaningless dada, steve says.

the bog of meaningless dada, he says. will we ever get out of it?

one imagines oneself out of it, nancy says.

one imagines things having meaning, adam says.

and whatever meaning one might wish to give them, he says.

like having a rock in one's pocket, nancy says.

something like that, he says.

a rock in one's pocket? adam says. what's that supposed to mean?

it's just a rock, he says. it's meaningless.

and therefore it can mean anything, nancy says.

it can mean everything, steve says.

and no one will know that but oneself, he says.

it's nice to have everything in one's pocket, adam says.

yes, he says. i like it.

but we don't have pockets, adam says.

then stick it up your ass, he says.

i have something i'd like to stick up adam's ass, steve says stroking his cock to life and when it stands up he crawls over to adam who turns around on his hands and knees to receive it up his ass while steve fucks him like crazy and cums and then they turn around and adam fucks steve likewise until he cums.

and they light cigarettes after except adam.

and he decides to go up and get more coffee and make an avocado and red onion and tomato sandwich.

and he chews gum after to get at the bits of sandwich caught in his broken teeth.

and he has a couple of tokes.

i wanna be fucked by a goat, nancy says.

so he imagines a goat with long horns nancy presents herself to and it sniffs her ass and pussy then mounts her and gives her what for awhile until it spurts all over her upraised ass which adam and steve go over to her and lick off.

they light cigarettes after except adam.

so, adam says, what do we talk about now?

inconsequential things, steve says.

is there anything inconsequential? he says.

yeah, adam says, everything could change with just one particle missing.

yeah, steve says, you're right.

you were just being silly for a moment, he says.

i guess, steve says.

so, nancy says, what should be our next topic for discussion?

i don't know, he says.

there's always gazorbnik, adam says.

what about it? nancy says.

it is what it is, adam says.

it could be the thing itself, he says.

but we doubt that, steve says.

yes, he says.

but gazorbnik offers so many possibilities, adam says.

like what? steve says.

like anything we might imagine for it to be, adam says.

death and destruction, steve says.

life and creation, he says.

both muddle into gray fog in the middle, nancy says.

it makes it difficult to choose one over the other, he says.

if we have free enough will to make a choice, adam says.

yes, he says, there is that as well.

but we're under the spell of the knowledge of good and evil, adam says.

but we've found the balance where the two cancel each other out, he says.

the center is everywhere, nancy says.

right, he says. the fulcrum point of the wheels turning.

the machine, steve says.

but i'm the machine, nancy says.

you're just an access portal, he says.

i'd like to access nancy's portal, steve says.

sure, adam says.

so nancy straddles adam taking his cock into her pussy while steve crouches behind her and sticks his cock up her ass as they rock and roll like that awhile before they all cum together at once.

they light cigarettes after except adam.

so, steve says, where we at?

to hell if i know, he says.

sitting in balance with all dualities dancing about us, nancy says.

from the depths of hell to the heights of heaven, adam says.

something like that, he says.

the machine of us all, nancy says.

you would know, he says.

and i do, nancy says. wait and see.

see what? he says.

how it all turns out, nancy says.

and how will that be? he says.

with a surprise ending, nancy says.

i hate that shit, he says.

but everything is a surprise, adam says.

but everything is meaningless dada, steve says.

everything is a joke, he says.

a joke with a surprise ending, nancy says.

i never get jokes, he says.

yeah, steve says, and most aren't all that funny.

we'll get this joke right between the eyes, nancy says, like a diamond bullet shattering this mundane consciousness to pieces.

what for? adam says.

to experience higher planes of existence, nancy says.

meaningless dada, steve says.

yeah, he says. if we were meant to be on higher planes of existence then what the fuck are we doing here?

we had yet to be born, nancy says.

right, he says.

and do we become gods then? adam says.

it's a possibility, nancy says.

and we can have the old gods taken out and shot, steve says.

we could do that, nancy says.

we could do anything we might want to do, he says, at a whim.

we could create our own creatures to play with, adam says.

who would then rise up against us and have us taken out and shot, steve says.

and the wheels of the machine keep turning, nancy says.

is that the joke? adam says.

it's part of the joke, nancy says.

and the punchline is gazorbnik, he says.

then we will finally understand what it means, adam says.

or not, nancy says.

yes, he says.

and he decides to go up and lie down for awhile.

but he can't sleep.

and so he sits before the computer wondering just what the fuck might be happening and he has little to no idea.

and he brings down a can of peaches to eat.

and he lights a cigarette.

and he is somewhat confused.

but he figures out that it's meaningless dada.

but that doesn't help him in the world where people believe there is meaning to this and that and the other thing.

and the war continues.

hear the trumpets blaring and the drums beating.

watch the grand parade of monkeys in their collective uniforms.

let the spectacle of it become itself.

why should we try to stop it or change its direction?

who even notices its passing?

but he is so far out of it.

he has no idea what's going on.

he is the fool.

but we are long past that by now.

we are beyond the future.

we are no longer ourselves.

we are not even somebody else.

who knows we exist?

and what would it matter?

and why?

and everyone is right, steve says, from the viewpoint of their subjective relative reality we can say nothing about what goes on or not.

no, he says. everyone is wrong because they don't see everything the same as us.

and who are we to judge? adam says.

we are them, steve says.

that's about as meaningless a statement as ever, adam says.

i am not responsible for that, steve says.

we are all responsible for that, he says.

but we are not responsible for ourselves, adam says.

no, he says, never that.

that would mean we are guilty of all the crimes we imagine, adam says.

and we imagine quite a few, steve says. like setting fire to a school bus full of children screaming as they are burning alive.

yes, he says. that and so much more.

we have quite a time amusing ourselves with them, steve says.

and he goes up to piss.

and he has a couple of tokes while his baby watches her tv and he listens to pandora jazz.

we have no idea what we're doing, nancy says, do we?

i can't think of any, he says.

i thought we were explaining everything, adam says.

haven't we given up on that by now? steve says.

not necessarily, he says.

we don't even know what everything is, adam says.

sure we do, he says.

it's meaningless dada, steve says.

and so much more, he says.

like what? adam says.

gazorbnik, he says.

of course, adam says.

have we decided what gazorbnik might mean yet? nancy says.

i'm not sure, he says.

don't we always ask that question? adam says.

i think so, he says.

but we have yet to answer it, steve says.

i thought we decided that it can mean anything to anyone, he says.

but that just makes it ultimately meaningless, steve says.

i guess, he says.

are we still murking about in the meaninglessness of it all? nancy says.

it would seem that we are, he says.

we need a plan of action, adam says.

right, he says. i don't think so.

like any of us would follow one, steve says.

like any of us are capable of following one, nancy says.

there is a point there, he says.

i thought so, nancy says.

we have atrophied with our neglect of ourselves, he says.

we have risen from ashes, nancy says, after burning down the house.

in our rock and roll fantasy, steve says.

dream it on, adam says.

take a trip, he says.

spin it for a ride, nancy says, along on the pathless path going nowhere.

yes, he says, all that sort of cosmic dada.

since all we are doing is babbling in babylon our foolish nonsense, nancy says.

but it could be more than that, he says.

it could be anything, nancy says.

anything could be something, he says.

something could be everything, nancy says.

everything could be nothing, he says.

and he goes up to take his meds.

like waves tumbling on the beach, nancy says.

pulled by the tides, he says, pulled by the moon.

yes, nancy says. that's what this is like.

sort of, he says.

yes, nancy says.

yes what? steve says.

yes to everything, nancy says.

one could be sorry for saying that, steve says.

one could be glad for saying that, adam says.

one could be feeling nothing for saying that, he says.

or none of the above, nancy says.

but, adam says, this isn't making much sense.

it doesn't need to, he says.

it doesn't? adam says.

not in the direct rationalogical sense, he says, but in the indirect irrationalogical sense.

or vise versa, steve says.

that is another possibility, he says.

so, adam says, which are we to believe?

whichever one someone with authority tells you to, he says.

and who is the authority? adam says.

we are, he says.

which means is that one is one's own authority, nancy says.

but many don't trust that within themselves, adam says.

yes, he says, and they then hand that authority over to someone else.

but would we really want any of those people out free on their own authority? steve says.

no, he says, it is probably for the best that they assign that to someone else.

so, adam says, we're not trying to liberate anyone.

no, he says. we're just trying to turn them on.

turn them on to what? adam says

gazorbnik, he says.

dig that groove, adam says.

yes, he says. one will not regret it.

it's the groove of everything grooving on itself, adam says.

what else is it supposed to groove on? he says. everything is the only thing that exists.

according to our theory, adam says.

but our theory explains everything, he says.

we have yet to prove that, adam says.

it's a matter of doubt, he says.

and he goes up to piss.

and then carla and frank and jane come by and sit in a circle with them.

hey, they all say.

so, frank says, the woman in the blue dress told me you fucked an alien.

yes, nancy says.

so, carla says, how was it?

it felt like nothing had ever fucked me before, nancy says.

i want to fuck an alien too, jane says.

i think we all do, steve says.

but besides that, he says, now what?

now i suppose you want us to keep discussing everything, steve says.

none of you have to, he says.

i like listening mostly, jane says. it's all a little beyond me sometimes.

it's beyond all of us, steve says.

we don't understand what the fuck we're doing, he says.

so how are you ever going to explain everything? jane says.

everything explains itself, he says. one just needs to pay attention.

but i become so distracted, adam says.

then pay attention to that which one is distracted by, he says.

but it's usually something fleeting, adam says.

all thought is fleeting, he says.

not the disciplined thought of the master, adam says.

perhaps not, he says. but we do not claim to be such a thing.

we are just a bunch of normal idiots, steve says, barking up the wrong tree.

normal? adam says.

we are far more normal than what most would imagine, steve says.

yes, he says. standard issue.

but i thought we were free individuals, adam says.

that's what the standard issue is, steve says.

oh, adam says.

but, frank says, what we are talking about should mean something that could be universally agreed on.

it should, he says, but it doesn't.

and all we got is gazorbnik, adam says.

and all anyone would agree on that about, he says, is that it's meaningless.

and there would be those who argue against that, steve says.

people would claim it means this or that or the other thing, he says.

but they would be wrong, frank says.

what does that matter about anything? he says.

nothing, frank says, i suppose.

if we could settle on one meaning, nancy says, then we'd be getting somewhere.

to gazorbnik means to experience the thing itself, he says.

and what is the thing itself? frank says.

it is it, he says.

and/or it is not it, adam says.

let's not complicate it, he says. we should leave it as it is it. let the other be assumed since one can always state the opposite of something.

so, frank says, it is it. what the fuck does that mean?

it means what it is is it, he says.

that's really not that much more clear, frank says.

well, he says, i don't know anything about one misunderstanding a simple statement like it is it.

nor would i, steve says. how much more simple do they want it?

i think it might be a matter of being too simple, nancy says.

it could be, he says.

but that's what everything else we might say has to do with, adam says, desimplifying it.

and that might swing it too much the other way and make it too complicated, nancy says.

but it's not as complicated as it could be, he says, we go over everything a 1000 times.

but it's different each time around, adam says.

people should still be able to understand it, he says.

what is it we're talking about again? adam says.

the thing itself, he says.

right, adam says.

we still haven't answered about what the thing itself might be or not, frank says.

the thing itself is what everything actually is, he says.

so, steve says, the thing itself is meaningless dada.

it could mean that, he says. but why go through all that trouble?

because there will be those who argue that, steve says.

let them, he says. why should we be concerned? we know the thing itself is more than that. it is what gives everything its meaning.

i thought gazorbnik does that, adam says.

gazorbnik is us experiencing that meaning, he says.

the meaning of meaningless dada, steve says.

it could be that, he says.

it could be anything, nancy says.

anything one might care to imagine, he says.

it is it, frank says.

gazorbnik is it, adam says.

it is the thing itself, he says.

it is the meaning of everything, frank says.

it is what everyone should be able to agree on, adam says.

i thought gazorbnik is that, frank says.

i'm confused, adam says. what are we talking about?

we're talking about turning people on, he says.

but we don't have anything to turn them on to, steve says.

turn them on to themselves, frank says.

and how does anything we have been talking about do that? steve says.

but that's been our message all along, adam says.

message? steve says. now we have a message?

the message is gazorbnik, he says.

that troublesome word you made up, steve says.

it amuses me, he says.

gazorbnik means to find amusement in everything, frank says.

it could, he says.

we need to settle on a particular meaning for it to have before we can move on, nancy says.

i like that one, frank says.

i do too, he says, but it having just one particular meaning doesn't work well with the rest of this.

but the rest of this is meaningless dada, steve says. forget it.

so, he says, we say gazorbnik means to find amusement in everything.

yes, nancy says.

then what else is there to say? he says.

but talking about meaningless dada about everything is how we are amused by it, nancy says.

it's how we gazorbnik, frank says.

and others may gazorbnik by going on a killing spree, steve says.

how is that finding amusement in everything? he says.

one would have to ask them, steve says.

if they could explain it, frank says.

if they would bother if they could, steve says.

and he has a couple of tokes.

as a spaceship hovers nearby.

i don't think going on a killing spree should be considered gazorbnik, carla says.

probably not, he says.

but what do we do about those who do? steve says.

we let those in power deal with them, he says.

like we have choice about that, adam says.

we could choose to be one of those in power, he says, and play our cards right.

when the revolution comes and we walk in and take over, frank says.

x-day, steve says.

in the year zero, he says.

so, nancy says, this is it.

as we have noted before, he says.

we've just noted it again, nancy says.

ok, he says.

and we are part of this being it, nancy says.

in our rambling confused way along on the pathless path spinning with the dada-ananda toward nowhere now here, he says.

something like that, nancy says.

but that realization hasn't really changed anything, he says.

what needs to be changed? nancy says.

maybe only my own head, he says. but i'm pretty stuck in my ways by now.

it is easier and sometimes more productive to work on one's own head than trying to change the world, nancy says.

i always thought that, he says, but now i'm not so sure.

and he goes up to make an onion bagel and cream cheese.

what are you unsure about? nancy says.

about working on one's own head, he says.

think of all you've opened up, nancy says.

but was that necessarily a good thing? he says.

good and evil are balanced in disharmonic harmony, nancy says.

but is that necessarily a good thing? he says.

nevermind it being good or not, nancy says.

what else should i pay attention to then? he says.

your own head, nancy says.

it's in a confused shambles, he says.

chaos and disorder, nancy says.

yeah, he says, that's about it. as if it weren't easy to tell by my musing.

and he decides to go to bed.

he wakes up and makes coffee and comes down to the bunker and out to the beach where he decides to imagine everyone gone but nancy.

hey, nancy says.

hey, he says.

you awake? nancy says.

yeah, he says. now ask me if i wanna be?

you don't wanna be awake? nancy says.

i just wanna sleep my life away, he says.

that's because you're depressed, nancy says.

i don't need an imaginary person in my head telling me i'm depressed, he says.

but you are just the same, nancy says.

we've had this discussion, he says, and i feel fine. it's the world that's fucked up.

sure, nancy says, blame others. classic mental illness.

and what should i do, he says, let them blame me?

it is your fault, nancy says. i thought this was a confession.

but i feel happy, he says.

depressed people often delude themselves that they are happy, nancy says.

then how does one know if one's happiness is real? he says.

i have no idea, nancy says.

and he goes up for more coffee.

but you're the one with all the smart ass answers, he says.

not always, nancy says. but isn't this one of the things we're talking about?

i don't know what we're talking about, he says.

yeah, nancy says, it has become rather confusing.

one might say that, he says.

i just did, nancy says.

good for you, he says.

we need to seriously get it together, nancy says.

i know, he says. but how?

well, nancy says, i don't know if you're capable of doing that being as insane as you are.

so, he says, we leave the world for those who are ordered and organized?

it would seem that we must, nancy says, or become just like them and join in with the fray.

all of us who are left behind unless some of them show us some compassion, he says, which seems to be growing thin anymore.

yeah, nancy says, and it'll all just get worse as the end draws near and everything runs out on us.

yeah, he says, we think people are selfish and greedy now.

there will be no comparison, nancy says.

nope, he says.

we need to put out the call for revolution, nancy says.

but for most that just means getting their own kicks in, he says.

and for the leaders, nancy says, it gives them a chance to grab power.

meet the new boss, he says, same as the old boss.

yeah, nancy says, all that business.

so, he says, what do we do?

keep putting this out and hope it makes sense to somebody, nancy says.

that seems like slim hope, he says.

one never knows, nancy says.

and he has a couple of tokes.

he coughs and farts.

i don't know exactly what i had in mind starting this, he says. i just found myself here out of my mind.

actually, nancy says, aren't you in your mind?

it's all relative, he says.

you're out of the programmed control mind, nancy says, implanted in you as a child growing up.

for all the good that's done me, he says.

it's an equal mix of good and evil, nancy says.

i suppose, he says.

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

and the kids are wild this morning.

april has her hands full.

but you do tend to focus on the negative, nancy says.

it's best to be prepared, he says.

yes, nancy says. no big surprises. but paranoia can go too far.

not for me it can't, he says.

then go ahead and be worried and concerned your whole life, nancy says.

it's what i feel most comfortable with, he says.

we each have our own paradise, nancy says, whether it is heaven or hell to someone else.

that's why we can't get to anything with what we're talking about, he says. we can't say specifically it is this or that or the other thing because those particular things about it would turn some people off.

and we're trying to turn people on, nancy says.

if that's possible, he says.

or highly improbable, nancy says.

so, he says, that's why we made up gazorbnik.

it is? nancy says.

it might as well have been, he says.

ok, nancy says.

gazorbnik means that one thing we all share in common but is wildly different within each of us, he says.

but that changes nothing, nancy says.

it means continue on with what one is doing, he says, however it makes sense to oneself.

and if that means for someone to keep on doing harm to others? nancy says.

there is little we can do about that beyond what is presently being done, he says.

which continues doing harm to others, nancy says.

everyone takes their chances, he says.

where we try to remain neutral to it all, nancy says.

as long as we can get away with it, he says.

which may not be very much longer, nancy says.

now who's being paranoid? he says.

i got it from you, nancy says.

it happens, he says. i'd say most people are paranoid about something.

i'd say everybody's paranoid of something, nancy says.

it would seem to be a human trait, he says, to more or less extremes of expression.

like all the other human traits, nancy says.

each of us a unique expression, he says.

unique expressions of the same thing, nancy says.

over and over like the waves tumbling on the beach, he says.

the waves of revolution, nancy says.

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

so, nancy says, where we at?

babbling meaningless dada in babylon, he says

is that it? nancy says.

what else does one expect from a madman, he says, suffering from delusions of every sort?

i expect to be amused, nancy says.

one being amused is something only one has control over oneself, he says.

that's when one needs to learn how to gazorbnik, nancy says.

yes, he says. gazorbnik oneself to the point of being amused by everything.

it's not as difficult as it might seem, nancy says.

all one has to do is to imagine, he says.

well, nancy says, one needs to free one's imagination first.

yes, he says. that's another thing gazorbnik can do.

yes, nancy says. gazorbnik oneself all through one's head.

even down into those dark corners where everything is scary, he says.

or even out in the light where it may be scarier still, nancy says.

let gazorbnik guide one's way along on the pathless path going nowhere now here, he says.

and he goes up to piss.

gazorbnik is multi-purpose, nancy says.

it would seem so, he says. but it remains meaningless.

that cannot be helped, nancy says. it's the nature of the beast.

gazorbnik is the beast, he says.

and you have imagined me the whore of babylon, nancy says.

what a pair, he says.

so, nancy says, what do we do with it now?

now we use it to use its magick power to transform the world around us to our liking, he says.

gazorbnik gives us access to the mainframe of the machine, nancy says.

the machine designed and built many aeons ago to guide us through our evolution, he says.

or however one might imagine it, nancy says.

to guide us from the dark to the light, he says.

but many want to be guided to the dark from the light, nancy says.

that can be imagined as well, he says.

and us in the gray zone in the middle of not too much of this or that or the other thing, nancy says.

a place for everything, he says, and everything in its place.

with all of heaven and hell on earth to choose from, nancy says.

we each have our niche, he says.

we fit and adapt, nancy says.

or die, he says.

yes, nancy says. we can always die.

like the end of a kiss, he says.

or the end of an orgasm, nancy says.

the orgasm of our conception, he says. reverberating through our lives.

it could be that way, nancy says.

yes, he says.

and it can continue down through generations, nancy says.

that vibration of living life, he says.

like stars exploding, nancy says.

like particles flashing on/off, he says.

like the om of it all, nancy says.

one could imagine it that way, he says.

or not, nancy says, if one doesn't want to.

one is free to imagine what one will, he says.

we only ask that one not do harm to others as much as one can get away with it, nancy says.

but we have no means of enforcing that, he says, until the revolution comes and we walk in and take over everything.

but even then we may not be able to do anything about it, nancy says.

one should tolerate others as much as one wishes to be tolerated, he says.

but what about those who feel that they are the norm and will tolerate no deviation? nancy says.

we have them taken out and shot, he says.

but they're the ones who often have all the guns, nancy says.

but we have gazorbnik, he says.

and what does gazorbnik do? nancy says.

it might not do anything, he says.

but one never knows, nancy says.

exactly, he says.

and carla and frank and jane come and sit down with them in a circle with jane leashed to nancy.

hey, they all say to one another.

so, frank says, where we at?

we're talking gazorbnik, nancy says.

oh no, jane says, not that again.

yes, nancy says, exactly that.

so, he says, what's so wrong with gazorbnik?

it doesn't mean anything, jane says.

but we have said that that then opens it to mean anything, he says.

whatever we might imagine it being, nancy says.

i guess, jane says.

so, carla says, whatever we say gazorbnik might mean is what it means?

yes, he says. it would work that way.

i want it to mean i get to fuck all the time, jane says.

you are pretty much fucking all the time, he says.

i'm not fucking now, jane says.

i'll fuck you, frank says.

ask my mistress, jane says.

and nancy gives her consent and frank crawls over to jane and pushes her back to lie down while frank sits on her face and grinds her hips as jane licks her asshole and pussy while frank is stroking her cock to its full stature then gets up and has jane get on her hands and knees and slips it to her up her cunt hole and drives it home over and over until they both cum together at once.

they light cigarettes after.

and he goes up to piss and to make coffee for his waking up baby.

so, jane says, that was a pretty good gazorbnik.

if that is what you want it to mean to you, he says, go for it.

like it should mean something else? jane says.

it might to someone else, he says. to me it means compulsively writing about meaningless dada over and over.

and hopefully it means compulsively reading meaningless dada over and over for many people, nancy says.

some people can't stop reading like i can't stop writing, he says.

a perfect pair, nancy says.

but we continually search for meaning, jane says.

that's what's so meaningless about it, he says. any absurdist will tell one that.

or those of that ilk, nancy says.

ilky, jane says. sounds like the taste of cum on one's tongue.

or the feel on one's fingers in someone's wet cunt, nancy says.

so, frank says, now what?

i gotta leave for the doctor's soon, he says.

and he smokes one more cigarette.

and him and his baby leave.

and he sees the doctor and finally gets some headshrinking drugs.

he rides the friendly bus home.

he makes coffee.

he has a couple of tokes.

so, nancy says, where we at?

in heck, he says.

heck? nancy says.

the hell of mediocrity, he says.

and he goes up for more coffee and to make a sandwich.

besides that, nancy says, where we at?

gazorbnikville, he says.

find the groove and dig it, nancy says.

is that what we're doing? frank says.

we give it our best shot, he says.

for what that's worth, jane says.

it's enough to amuse us, he says.

that's true enough, frank says.

and he watches baseball awhile.

he manages to stay awake.

he goes up to take his meds.

and he has a couple of tokes.

he coughs and farts.

so, jane says, amusement is the key?

i can think of no other purpose for everything, he says. that is if it has any purpose whatsoever.

many would argue that it doesn't, nancy says.

let them wave their flag in the field of flags, he says.

and it's whatever one is amused by? jane says.

unfortunately, he says, yes.

why unfortunately? jane says.

because many are amused by causing others harm, he says.

and we don't like that, jane says.

not really, he says. but people have tried various ways of dealing with this problem but all have failed.

yes, jane says. and what do we do?

i have no idea, he says. except to ask people not to do that.

that'll hardly do it, jane says. they'll laugh at us and keep doing what they are doing.

if we could give them something that would replace that need, frank says.

that's what gazorbnik could be, he says.

how? jane says.

i have no idea, he says. except that gazorbnik should be something so irresistibly delightfully amusing that they would become enthralled.

and what would that be? frank says.

experiencing the orgasm of the universe, jane says.

or something equivalent, he says.

it should open up their minds and imaginations wide to perceive everything in the universe as amusing, nancy says.

well, frank says, not everything. that brings up the original problem. they would find causing harm to others to be as amusing as anything else.

yeah, he says. it would be that way.

so, nancy says, how do we restrict it?

and restrict it to what? jane says. where do we draw the line?

we draw it at what causes harm to others, nancy says.

and what is harm? he says.

yeah, jane says, breaking another's heart causes harm.

we wouldn't go that far, he says.

then where? jane says.

i don't know, he says. i don't know about any of this whole thing. it's too complicated.

then leave things as they are, jane says. why are we the ones who need to save the world?

i'm not trying to save the world, he says. i'm trying to provide people with an alternative option.

alternative option to what? frank says.

to what's available, he says.

what's available for what? frank says.

for people to be amused by, he says.

but there is everything to be amused by, nancy says.

even the abused and sick and starving children? he says.

oh, yeah, nancy says, there is that.

not that we particularly care ourselves, he says.

i care, carla says.

well, he says, we all care. but what do we actually do about it?

nothing, nancy says. we're too lazy. doing something is too much like work.

and the end net result is that we might as well not even care, he says.

and so we don't, nancy says.

well, jane says, that problem's solved. what next?

should we even care about people doing harm to one another? nancy says.

it might at some point affect us, he says.

but if the gods smile on us, carla says, we'll be ok.

if the mind shift/ship gathers us up, he says, we'll be ok.

but things don't happen like that, jane says.

then we're as fucked as anyone, he says.

it would seem that way, nancy says.

but, he says, whatever about that.

yeah, nancy says. we're either cool or we're not. there ain't nothing we can do about it.

so, frank says, why worry about it?

because we're human, he says, and humans worry about shit.

but the mystics tell us we should rise above such concern, frank says.

fuck the mystics, jane says.

after we've stolen what of all their ideas that we have some use for, he says.

and twist them to fit in with our own ideas about things, nancy says.

like clowns making balloon animals, he says.

gazorbnik, nancy says.

yes, he says.

so, jane says, we just hang out on the island and let the world take care of itself?

it seems to be that way, nancy says.

as long as we can keep it at bay, he says, which for myself i'm not all too sure about.

but you've always had good fortune, nancy says.

up till now, he says.

yes, nancy says. as always.

so we sit here gazorbniking, carla says.

yes, he says. if you mean finding that which amuses us.

i guess that's what i mean, carla says.

what else is there to do? nancy says.

and we're not causing anyone any harm, carla says.

except the poor taxpayer breaking their back working to support us, he says.

well, carla says, we at least try not to take more than we need.

we aren't given more than we need, he says. it's hardly our choice.

and this life of luxury is available to anyone else crazy enough to get away with it, carla says.

yup, he says.

so, nancy says, fuck what any of this might mean to anyone else.

we've got ours, he says. it's up to others to get theirs.

and to get theirs they may come to have us taken out and shot, frank says.

it could be, he says. or whatever else they might decide to do with us.

they are the majority, nancy says. they get to do whatever the fuck they want.

any group is a majority over one, he says. and we are always one.

solipsists of the world unite, nancy says.

exactly, he says.

so, frank says, what's our plan of action now?

i don't know, he says. see what happens?

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

and try to keep it in some sort of balance, he says.

yes, nancy says, and gazorbnik for all one is worth.

yes, he says. that is how we manage to keep ourselves so amused by everything.

and gazorbnik is meaningless to everyone else, frank says.

there is no reason why it should not be, he says. it's just some fucking word i made up.

so, jane says, why are we so concerned with it for?

yeah, frank says. let other people make up their own meaningless words to amuse themselves with.

but they're welcome to gazorbnik if they want, he says, or are too lazy.

so, jane says, we're not trying to save the world anymore?

the world hardly needs to be saved, he says.

but what about all those doing harm to others? carla says.

let the others deal with them as they see fit, he says.

as long as they don't come around getting in our hair about it, nancy says.

but they will, frank says.

but gazorbnik protects us, nancy says.

how? frank says.

magick, nancy says.

and we expect people to believe us? jane says.

fuck what they believe, he says.

yeah, nancy says. we got ours.

that's right, he says.

so, jane says, are we delusional yet?

it may seem that way, nancy says.

and if we are, he says, then we are.

yeah, frank says, so what?

read along on the pathless path of it and be amused with us, he says.

because it is it, frank says.

it would appear to be it, he says, but we can never be quite so sure.

because it is not it as well, nancy says.

one can often be fooled by the two, he says, it and not it.

yes, frank says, i can see that.

and with that adam and steve arrive and come sit with them in a circle.

hey, they all say to one another.

so, steve says, where we at?

we've given up trying to win over converts, nancy says.

that's probably a good thing, adam says.

yeah, steve says. fuck them anyway.

exactly, he says.

so, adam says then what are we doing instead?

just going about our business as usual, he says.

amusing ourselves, nancy says.

amusing ourselves with what? steve says.

just seeing what the fuck might happen next, he says.

but nothing happens here but us just babbling on about meaningless dada, steve says.

it's good enough for me, he says. i ain't doing nothing else.

so, jane says, this is for people who have nothing better to do?

people looking for something to amuse themselves with for awhile, nancy says.

and this is supposed to be amusing? steve says.

it could be, he says, if one allowed it to be.

but few will be willing to do that, frank says.

this sort of thing could cause them a certain amount of fear, he says. i've seen it on the faces of people i've let read my shit before.

and this is probably worse than that was, nancy says.

it's everything it was before reduced down to it's lowest common denominator, he says.

that being what was shipwrecked on the island, nancy says.

turns out i didn't need most of what i was carrying around with me, he says.

one never does, nancy says.

and he goes up to go to bed.

(to be continued...)