king hank

King Hank 1.1.

There was something about Hank that made you want to get away from him and take a shower. It was hard to say exactly what it was. Perhaps it was his voice, reduced to a croak by millions of cigarettes. Or maybe his smell, which was just slightly rotten, like a fish sandwich that had just went over. His skin was like leather that had been left out in the sun to shrivel and rot. It was blotched and spotty, with deep cracks covered over with a film of dried blood, like he had pealed, and burnt, and pealed, and burnt again, ad infinitum. The inside of his arms were covered in large welts with small holes in the middle. He was a small man with thin limbs, but he had an enormously bloated gut. It was hard as a watermelon and did not jiggle when he walked. It looked like the stomach of a pregnant woman. His liver and kidneys were swollen. He didn’t know that he was filling with piss and bile. As a result his eyes wore a yellow film.

King Hank was truck driver three quarters of the year in the U.S., and a resident of the Corona Cantina’s back room for the other three months.

Mick and Adam had just got into Juarez and they were both very thirsty and ready for some action. After crossing the bridge, they walked into the first cantina they could find, which was right off the market square. It was deserted except for Hank, the bartender, and a bar-back. Adam went up to the bar and sat down, ordered two drinks, and started talking to Hank. Everyone shook hands and was very friendly, as Adam suspected based on his other trips to Mexico. After some preliminaries Adam got down to business, Hank looked like just the man he needed to talk to.

“So, Hank, they say it’s a war zone down here, that you can get your nuts cut off trying to score a little blow, whata’ya think?”

The Bar tender, who was wearing a rosary and had religious tattoos all over his arms and neck was watching the conversation very closely.

Hank took a shot of tequila, “Hell no, you just have to be careful, the black market is big-time money for these folks, just deal with people you know, like my friend Jesus here. You can get anything you want down here for penny’s on the dollar. You just have to know the right people, and I’m the right people. You stick with me friend, we’ll have us a good ol’time.”

The bartender winked at hank and told the bar-back something in Spanish. The bar back asked if we needed anything.

Adam said, “That’s just what we were discussing.”

The bar back, who spoke a little English, said he would see about that, and was there anything else and Adam and Mick placed orders for Valium, snuff, and cigarettes. After prices and quantities were agreed upon, the bar-back left.

Jesus said “You come at a bad time, the Mexico marines are around. The cops, ok, but the federalies, no good, you know? No one selling here, everyone have to go about 30 miles away.”

“So is it super dangerous?”

Jesus brought another round of beers and sucked down the rest of his, “For runners maybe, for bosses, maybe, for you, no, you just gotta know somebody you trust. This is how we survive. People want fun, we help them. This our other market. You take care of us, we take care of you, everybody’s happy. The American want us to stop our market, but they still come for it.”

Just then the bar-back came walking in. He threw the cigarettes and valium on the table. Adam and Mick paid and tipped generously.

Mike leaned back in his stool. “Hell yea, I like this shit, I think I’m gonna stay for a while”. In American what a hassel everything is, this is as easy as ordering takeout.”
The bar-back jumped at the opportunity. “You need room?”
Mike said, “Yea, how much?”

“200 pesos, two beds, air conditioning.”

Mike smiled big and handed him 300 pesos “Damn that’s cheap, hook it up and keep the change brother” The bar-back ran out.

Just then a small fat man walked in who looked and sounded uncannily like a Mexican version of Joe Peschie. He moved his hands a lot and talked very loudly in a screeching voice. He walked very fast. Adam was starting to get drunk and liked the look and sound of him. He walked right over to Adam like they were old buddies and claped him on the back, standing very close.

“I’m Jorge, I take care of you, what you want, what you doing.”

“Shit, just chilling out, drinking.”

“Yea, you like drink, me too I like drink.”

Adam got the hint and called for another round, but Hank spoke up, “Let me get the next round, this little prick here needs a drink to calm him the fuck down”, but there was no malice in his tone.

Jorge laughed loudly “This mutha fucky, you know this guy, he a fuckey, you know, he wanna sexo my daughters. Oh shit, he real fucky, this my friend though.”

Hank laughed a harsh coughing laugh, and breathed laboriously, “Yea fuck yea I wanna sexo. I went over to his house for Christmas, he’s got 8 daughters, trying to marry off all of them, I said shit, let me take one, I think I can handle some of that young stuff.”

Hank was almost drooling, Jorge sucked down another beer, “Jesus bring me tequila and put it on the mother fucky tab or I stab him.” He looked at Adam and Mick “You my friend, you friend with Hank, you my friend too, I tour guide, I show you everything, I get everything.”
Adam said “shit yea, fuck yea lets get some coke and ill sort it with you”

Jesus looked at Jorge, “no, no, marines in town, anything else….”

“Well, is there an ATM around, I need to get some money?”

Mick leaned over to Adam “You need to calm down dude, don’t mention that shit again, your too loud, its being taken care of, here, chill out, eat a valium”
.
Adam laughed “Hell no I wanna go up up up and away, you can have the valium, whatever, ok, ill chill, come on Jorge, lets go to the ATM”

“Lets go my friend, you my friend, I take care of you like I take care my own ass, you lickey family.”

Jorge knew everyone on the street. He walked fast, Adam had to almost run to keep up. He was hollering and whistling at people, they smirked, or waved or shook their heads at him. He never stopped talking, he was turning around to talk as Adam struggled to keep up. He had enormous energy for a small fat guy. “I tour guide, I help gringo’s, show them around, but not too many gringo’s these days.”

Adam was almost running “They say is a killing zone down here, looks pretty calm to me.”
“It ok, you just stick with me my friend, anyone ask you, you say you with me, I take care of you, I know everyone even big bosses, you know someone, its ok. Fighting is between other families, not us, we ok, I know everybody. This neighborhood, it ok, no fighting for it. Some barrios they fight for, not this one, border guard’s work for bosses too, they have big guns, so this neighborhood ok. You like to go up, I heard you say, here, 20 pesos.” He showed Adam a small pink pill, Adam knew exactly what it was and snatched it out of his hand and dry swallowed it .

“Fuck yea, college kids need to stay awake and so do i, you got any more of that, shit we don’t need nothing else if you got Addies, we can get a nice buzz on them and drink.”

Jorge grimaced “No, certain things only some sell, not that, that one for me. I don’t have more. Only some people, go through Jesus for that, he works for bosses, he owns two bars you know, bosses lend money and he sell for them. I show you something else. This special place.”
Adam remained silent until they reached the ATM, which was guarded by a man with a machine gun. He made a withdraw and handed Jorge what he thought was 2 dollars but was actually 20. When he realized it, it didn’t matter. He had given more to street people in the US. Easy come, easy go.

Jorge pocket the bill, “You good friend, I take you where I take all good friends, you good man, I can tell, follow me, you no bad person.”

After more twists and turns down the narrow cobble stoned streets, flanked by waving and scowling people alike, the arrived at “the bodega”. It was a two story building with all the windows and doors open, fans blowing, under what looked to be a thatched roof, painted bright colors, paintings of tropical scenes on the wall and a large bird of paradise squawking perched on a bamboo “T” with a little chain on his leg. Adam thought it was beautiful perfect creature of god or nature or both, chained for our amusement. In all the corners, large hibiscus red, pink and bright yellow. A sweet floral smell. A large aquarium with more perfect creatures snatched from the warm sea.

Jorge went to fix himself a drink at a fully stocked bar. “You good man, I only bring good men here, you know, ones that know how to act, no crazy’s, you know, some people crazy, too ruff, I know you ok, you no ruff man, and you generous.”

All around, young ladies were laying in various states of repose, stretched out over lush looking couches and chairs, some looked sleepy or maybe high, all looked bored, eight lovely women, scantily dressed in what might have been beach wear had a beach been close, white cotton dresses, bikini tops, floral patterned wraps, smoking, drinking, looking, stretching, yawning. All smiled up at Adam, and he stood frozen, trying to smile, to look casual. He was getting the idea and needed a drink badly. “oh shit” he thought “what a trip”. Adam half expected to see the Paul Gogan stroll down the stairs with a hard on.
Jorge came over with rum and coke, “Relax friend, sit, drink, relax, you get to know my friends”

Adam smiled at the girls, shook hands, “Jorge has a lot of friends” they just smiled coyly and nodded, on his left, one lady sat up, started to put on some sweet smelling lotion. Jorge walked over to her, said something in Spanish, she looked over at Adam, motioned, held out the bottle of lotion.

“You OK, friend, its calm here, come over here, she want help putting lotion on back, you good guy, I take care of you, see, you no a gay huh? Come help my friend”

Adam automatically began to move to sit beside her on the couch. An older man came in, with some white in his hair, dressed in a white cotton button up shirt and nicely creased jeans. Two of the women got up and went over to him, kissing him on both sides of the cheek. He said something to Jorge looking at Adam. Jorge replied. One of the man’s companions had some sort of wrap around dress on, which she took off, exposing bright small bikini bottoms, folded it, laid on a couch, walked, no, moved, over to the bar, fixed three drinks. She moved very slowly and it smelled like flowers in the room. She walked back to the man with the drinks on a tray, handed him something which he slipped in his pocket, looked pleased, told Jorge something in Spanish looking at Adam. Jorge replied laughing. Adam thought he heard something about potatoes and baby’s and gringos, they both laughed. Adam felt like a child that did not get the jokes grown-ups were telling. The man gave the other girl a bill. She smiled and kissed him on the lips. The man winked at Adam, and walked out.

Jorge pressed “put on the lotion, she like you, don’t be rude”
.
Adam began putting on the lotion without thinking. Sliding hands over smooth dark skin. Black hair pulled up over the neck, curls. Gliding gliding. The smell of coconut. She reached around and unclasped her top. Adam rubbed the lotion on her shoulders arms, neck, traced the ridge of her ear, she turned around, “on front too” she said. Weightless. That feeling in the lower stomach, heat spreading slowly down, stirring. Jorge grinning. All the lady’s watching. Our hearts are birds too, he thought. Birds of paradise, perfectly made, but chained. Our hearts have been chained but need to fly. Lotion on her shoulders, both hands moving toward her breasts. The warm stirring, spreading terseness. Adam stood up quickly, looked at Jorge, “Grab a beer and lets go back to the bar.”

Jorge looked a little displeased, shocked. “You ok? You relax, relax, it ok, everything ok, she like you.” The lady looked a little put out, told something to Jorge, made a huffing sound and started putting her top back on. “You want to go see boys?”

“No, no, uh… this is great, just fine, I just uh, I need to keep an eye on Mike, you know, he’s still back there, you know, we’ll come back”
.
The grin returned, “It’s ok my friend, the beers on me, we go now, maybe come back, you want Viagra, I get it for you.”

Adam felt something like shame and something like hotness in his belly. “Ok, yea, maybe so, lets just come back later”

Jorge led the way back, talking to everyone on the street, some laughing, some grimacing, some yelling obscenities.

At the bar now there was music. Everyone was dancing and the delivery was made. Adam asked Jesus where Hank was and the bar-back came and took them out back. There was a small court yard, and a stair case. Upstairs an open air room, windows knocked out, like a covered landing. In the back more rooms.

Hank was hunkered over a large line of coke. When he looked up he reached in his pocket and threw a small back of coke on the table. A large quarter gram, two or three fat lines. Just enough. Good. See that the bar-back is tipped he thought. 10 dollars for a fat quarter gram, amazing. He went to go get Mike. Standing outside on the landing Adam looked down to watch Mike and Jorge arguing. Jorge had tried to rip him off. Jorge was explaining to Mike that they were the best of friends, family even and that he would never do such a thing.
Mick came up in a huff, “That little prick tried to rip me off.”

Adam was putting drops of water down his nose, the burning was exquisite “He’s ok , he’s just trying to make a buck, feed his family, just like everyone here. Everyone’s hustling. Did you see how many prostitutes were on the street, that’s good money for them.”
Mick was looking at Hank with a look of disgust. “No he’s not ok, he’s a street pimp, you hear him talking shit and you believe him, he’s a slime bag, sound to me like he’s a common hustler like any other, I’m tellin you he tried to get me for 20 dollars.”

Hank broke in, “You got to tip these guys well or they just try and steal it from you, you make too much noise, you might get more than a couple of valium. They all work for the same folks. What took you so long Adam? I was thinkin maybe they had you strug up with your little nuts cut out, and I was gonna have to do your QG. No sense letting good yayo go to waste.”

“We went by the bodega.”

Hank was looking cautiously at Mick “He take you to the bodega huh, you meet Consuela, she’s so sexy, you outta get you some of that, she gets firsts shot at white guys, always a pecking order you know, that’s good stuff, not that affectionate you know, but good, prime good grade A, when I’m on the road, you know, driving my truck, all I get is lot lizards, you know, lick sticking your dick in a glass of hot water, those girls, there young you know they are not so stretched out. But not down here, down here, you got a few hundred green-backs to throw around, shit, you a king, not like in the stantes. In the stated a couple hundred don’t get much attention, but down here you are a VIP with that sort of dough. You just have to tip everybody, and I mean everybody. That’s why it’s best to make sure you only deal with a few guys. This is how they live you know, fine by me. Suits me just fine.”
Mick looked like he was getting ready to kill someone. He was opening and closing his fists. Adam was feeling worried “naw man, that’s some sad shit, you know, that’s fucked up, but anyway fuck that dude, he coulda’ asked me for the money.”

Adam agreed “I can’t believe there’s that much prostitution on the street, some of those girls looked so young, that fucked up, and all us gringo down here to bear up the white man’s burden I recon.”

Hank was holding a lighter under a spoon that held a mixture of coke and water. “Shit, girls that hot, I mean at the bodega, can always find other work, you know, it’s just way better money to lie on your back a few days a week. It’s not any differnt in any major European city. I been all around, and Europe is just about the same, this is their red light district you know, but only after dark. In Europe it’s more segregated, that all. In the bodega the girls have to pay the house some, but you know who runs the house, and I’ll tell you, the house takes care of its own, they run this whole neighborhood, those girls could get jobs as waitresses or wiping tables, or get married to one of the gang guys, which they will probly end up doing anyhow, but shit, id do it, wouldn’t you, a couple hundred a night, shit, I might let you stick it to me for a hundred a night.”
“I bet those girls are beat up and everything elese.”

“Let me tell you something, you hit one of those girls, and you are in big trouble. The windows are open in the rooms upstairs too. There is a balcony, but they windows have screens on them so you can’t go outside. Dudes sit outheir and listen to them fuck, just to make sure the job is done and there is no ruff stuff. This an’t Juarez. That’s a whole nother pile of shit I’ll tell ya. Down here no one is a “free agent” everyone works at the pleasure of the house, and the house protects it’s own. I figure, it usta be like that in America, before organized crime was busted up.”

Adam thought of Hank working away at some poor young woman in some hot smelly room, heaving and huffing, his sweat and slobber dripping on her, red faced, obscene blotted belly, grunting, her turning her face away, what was she thinking about? Birds in the blue sky? Her small frame limp and docile under his great pounding weight, his stench, his bulbous cock like a fat and dirty slug, did he wear a condom, did he cum inside her, what must she be thinking about, her child, her family, the money…the money…the money, but her heart a bird.”
Mike looked ready to commit murder “you stupid fat piece of shit, what do you think your doing, you can’t free-base that, you dog, go drive your truck into a ravine.” He stomped down passing Jorge as he came up. HE mounted the landing.

“Adam, Consuela and her friends are here, you my friend, I take care of you, come on down, have fun, dance, we all dance…”

Hank licked his lips. “you better get your friend outa’ here before he gets himself killed. Come back if you ditch him and we can get nice and fucked up. I mean that. I got some business to take care of.”

As Adam and Mick hailed a cab, he thought he heard the sound of geese calling, way up.

t

t

Fire Sermon 1

Fire Sermon

She kept talking about scoring coke and Adam’s resolve was slowly weakening. He was thinking about Steven King’s description of the water-wagon in “The Shinning”, how great it looked passing you when you were standing on the ground, and how shitty it was once you hopped on and took a ride.

“Exactly” he said aloud.

“Exactly what” she looked at him quizzically.

“Nothing, god I wanta’ drink!”

“No, you know how you get when you drink, plus you have to drive.”

“Drive where”?

“Let’s get some coke, common…I won’t get that much, a half gram, I can do one and you can do one.”

“If I snort a quater gram of coke it’s on, I’m gonna HAVE TO drink to help with the come down, and I’m trying so fucking hard to stay sober, I shouldn’t even be here.”

“Fine”, she looked away disappointed.

Adam sat at the table and thought how much this scene sucked, how stupid and dingy the bar looked, how bad the music was, how banal the game of pool was, how beastly most of the patrons seemed, the garish lights, all of it was disgusting him because he was sweating a drink. However, he remembered many times getting drunk at this very same bar and loving it. The same place that seemed absolutely vile when sober became a glittering hideaway when drunk. Alcohol was a magic potion, he thought; just add to a glum life and “POOF”, instant excitement.

They sat in silence not looking at each other. She kept checking her phone. Suddenly, “Shit I forgot my smokes, Ima’ run to the car and get them.” She started to get up still looking at her phone.

“OK” vaguely Adam knew that she would score.

“My car’s locked”, he threw her the keys.

When she was gone Adam stared at the beer bottle she left. He looked over at the bar. How beautiful the many colored bottles, lit from underneath. A sparkling door to Shangri-La. He wanted to fall though the door. He wanted to be Alice and tumble down the rabbit hole.
Adam thought, “They say you can’t smell Vodka on the breadth, I wonder if that’s true.”
The pressure was mounting, like a balloon in his guts being blown and blown and blown.
“POP” he yelled. The frat boys looked over from their game of pool as he was getting up. Standing at the bar, rubbing shoulders with some slobbering guy yelling about Lady GaGa to her date, he felt as though his entire body was vibrating. He could taste the shot. The bartender walked over and smiled “Adam, about time you had a drink, did your mom die today”?

“Huh”

“Nothing, what will it be”

“Give me a double shot of vodka and a beer”

“My man” she smiled and turned to grab the glass and pour the drink. The glass was a cut diamond. He sucked it down as fast as he could. Then he sucked down the beer in a few gulps. HE could feel the knot quickly unraveling in his gut. The tightness was dissipating. The warmth of the first drink was delicious. He saw through the window she was coming back. He hollered at the bar tender to bring him another shot of vodka “and make it fast, I have to drink before my date comes back”

The bartender smiled and gave him the second shot. He drank it, payed, and began walking back to the table. He got half way there, turned around, got a beer and returned to the table. When he did she was sitting there.

She seemed more alive “I thought you were not going to drink”

He noticed a small drip of translucent snot dripping from one nostril. “Ahh… fuck it.”
She lit a cigarette and shrugged. She was tapping both feet, which shook the table slightly. She spoke quickly. “know what I want to do”?

He finished his beer. Suddenly the night was full of possibilities. “Oh do tell”
“I want to go to a strip club”

Adam thought of the last time he went to a male strip club. His date enjoyed it immensely, but Adam thought it boring.

“I’m not really feeling that, I don’t have the money anyway”.

She leaned close over the table; “you know those women are amazing, you know you want to, I’ll pay, it’ll be fun.”

Adam didn’t see that coming. He didn’t mind seeing naked dudes because on a visceral level he didn’t feel that they were exploited. On a rational level he knew otherwise, but in the guts he didn’t feel it. It just seemed a little silly and vulgar, but he really didn’t care much one way or another. When he thought about female strip clubs however, it produced a totally different sensation. In that case, every moral and political nerve sent a clear message to his hormone addled brain that screamed EXPLOTATION! His visceral half however was not as noble, but he thought it a bad idea regardless.

He looked sharply at her “Those girls are exploited, you know that”.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t call them girls. Besides, you remember where I teach, or do you just not care? Don’t tell me about the patriarchy, I promise I’m better versed than you. Did you know I used to be a stripper and it mostly paid for my undergrad life? A lot of my very close lady friends and students have been too. You remember Stacy, Scott’s girl-friend? I bet you didn’t know she paid for her masters largely by stripping.” She laughed. “She wrote her thesis on the sex/power matrix, because she knew how to flip a script.

Adam felt overwhelmed by her tone, her easy dismissal of his approach. He was watching her closely. He felt his blood getting hot. He was trying to consider how to respond without ruining the whole night. He didn’t know quite how to handle this. “You’re welcome for that phrase”.

She finished her beer, snorted and smiled a bit contemptuously and relaxed a bit, “and frankly I don’t think you’re as interested as you try to be, Come on….. you’re not impressing me, so give it a rest for god’s sake. I love strip clubs and so do you, and here’s the rub….. lots of the women love dancing and watching the other dancers. I mean to say for the dancers it’s not just the money, that’s part of it, but they consider themselves artists. You don’t understand the whole routine and the roles and the play-dance of the routine. It’s actually quite subversive. Lots of women and dancers party at the clubs and enjoy watching each other dance on their nights off. They are actually performers and athletes and artists all wrapped into one. Anyway strip clubs are a blow to the patriarchy and to puritan repressive morals. See, it’s all about assuming roles that are actually the reverse of those promoted by patriarchy, although they might not at first appear so. Strip clubs can be the site of erotic and social resistance, of freedom and the deconstruction of bullshit “universal” values and taboos. The dominant values are easily disclosed in strip clubs, transvalued, reversed, and thus for that moment neutralized. The parameters of what you perceive as delaminating the “normal” or “capitalist” patriarchal paradigmatic boundaries are actually transgressed. The dancers are the most powerful players, and the men know that very well. The men submit and they know they are submitting. Not to mention getting naked is inherently pleasurable for most people. Pleasure for the dancer because she is free to get naked, and the men you must remember are not. The dancer always calls the shots. Most of the men actually accept it and enjoy it, because they can relinquish the phony illusion of control they try so hard to hang on to in other social interactions. They enjoy the power being held over them, the men enjoy being subjected to this power. The women assume the confident role and they can grant or withhold pleasure as they see fit, they can move forward with the act or walk away. Get a lap dance and act like a jerk and see what happens. At that point you are totally under their control. Plus in strip clubs women can looked at each other in public and not be ashamed. Where else can we do that? Women can see each other, and see men seeing them, and the men cannot say a damn thing. It’s just as much a place for women to express their sexuality as for men, to assume roles that are opposite the traditional ones. Whatever, we can go to a male strip club but I’m not that into that. Those dudes are mostly Neanderthals. Let’s go watch women. I might know some of the ladies there tonight. Besides, you go to those godamned burlesque shows don’t you, what the hells the difference? Just like most of the other dancers, the girls in the burlesque shows like it, they enjoy it, the fact that they are getting paid, is that suppose to change anything? We’ll have a blast. Besides, your little protests are almost irrelevant anyway, we both know that. ”

Adam felt his face turn hot. He felt like she was attacking him and all he was trying to stand for. “The machine gets inside you. That is one essential facet of alienation, you love your own chains, you build your own scaffold but you can’t see what it is. Then you dance up to the rope and hang yourself. You fall in love with your own lack of humanity. There is only one way to flip the script, and it has nothing to do with assuming roles in a narrative. It has to do with smashing the entire way that goods and services are produced and distributed. That is not done with fancy talk. That is not done in the class room or in some bullshit journal. That is done in the streets, and factories, all the rest will follow. Those strippers are not doing that shit for free. They are doing it because economic necessity makes us do things every day, every day, all day, slowly twisting our bodies and souls so that finally we can’t see the truth. We become appendages of the death machine, appendages of the apparatus of control, we help them reproduce the machine and it grows stronger with every precision lath we turn off the conveyor belt. The more we give them the less we have. The more of our life’s energy and work we churn into that bottomless pit the more empty we become. The machine grows and we wither and are shells, working, eating, reproducing, sleeping, and dying. We become the mouth piece for their television and news and sit coms and game shows and we talk and we think we are speaking but we are not. They are speaking us into social being and they will smash us when we are no longer useful. The truth is they are sucking our life and wealth and spirit from us and using that very energy and wealth to kill and rape and smash and plunder all of humanity until there will be nothing left of this planet but a black burnt piece of rock spinning aimlessly through space.” His body was vibrating again. Now he felt like he wanted to break something, or fight, or lash out.

“Well” she leaned back in her chair, “I want to hang out with you tonight, and I promise if you go we will have a fucking blast. You know we will. It’s fucking fun and I know what you like. You didn’t protest when I brought that porn over, that’s for sure. What the hell’s the difference. You’re the least shy sex addict I ever met, and that’s just fine with me, so spare me your performance of Jonathan Edward Castro, how obviously boring and dated. I can’t stand boring self-righteous men. Don’t be ashamed to like what you like. Just know that those women and men are actually revolting against patriarchy and taboo, weather they know it or not. It’s a good thing, not dirty or shameful or oppressive. There is enough shame in the world.”

Her face became disdainful. He remembered how they met, just a month before in a seminar he was taking at college different from his, him new to the graduate school and her almost finished, running into her in the library, and asking what was she was reading. He could see it was Derrida. He had never met anyone who actually tried to negotiate that type of writing. Adam sat and asked a few questions cordially and tried to suggest Marxist answers. She became more animated with every response, he closely watched her gesticulating hands as she first incinerated the corpse of materialism, then those who had already dispensed with so much unsophisticated positivism , hacking to bits the first generation of relativist wizard-gods (who emerged from Saint-Denis blood thirsty with text) with the machetes they sharpened for her. A grand mutiny, deconstructing the deconstructions. She hacked them to pieces with a more advanced relativism. Adam was impressed by her ability to counter everything, tear it all up to pieces, and enjoy launching into the void where everything was potentially false, so anything was possible. To Adam her tirade ended with a vision of her standing in the twilight of all idols, smashed statues and temples and books all around, blood splattered, holding a hammer for the forms, a machete for the formulators. He thought she had to be wrong, but at that moment it didn’t matter, so he asked her out. He was amazed she said yes. But now all that passion had become a weapon. After a month of furious argument and love-making, the flame was beginning to burn through its fuel. Adam could see that was almost completely snuffed. He wanted to calm down but now it was too late.

“I think you are wrong” Adam hoped he could leave it at that because he wanted to enjoy the night with her.

She started to get up. “Well, I’m going to the bathroom; Why don’t you give it a shot. Jeeeezzzz, you guys need to read more Millet or Judith Miller ….Oh what the fuck do you know about female sexuality anyway. Actually, stop reading altogether and just hang out with strippers if you want to know what’s what, and if you want to impress me, post something on Lit Erotica, but spare me all those goddamned sermons. I’ll tell you what patriarchs I find most “alien”, it’s all these goddamned Christians posing as Marxists, or what’s more vulgar and bland, fooling themselves into believing that there was any difference in the first place. Your Marx looks just like the ol’ dictator father Jehovah full of truth and universal justice. I wonder what profit He will reveal the truth to next, what sacred text you will enshrine in a generation or two. Just another metaphysic for you to get wrapped up in for your ego’s sake, like little children scared of the dark. She smiled and paused “you trip me out”…and began laughing, leaning far back in her chair, looking at the celling, mockingly laughing.

Adam suddenly felt sick, like a terrible mistake had been made. He stood and looked straight at her, straight into her green eyes. Adam wanted to explode, but he spoke very low and moved close so she could hear clearly. He knew their short tryst was over.

“You are a tool too but you’re too smart to see it. But no matter, because you’re the last of the burnouts. Your line I mean. After you, the deluge. Don’t expect another wave of highly evolved nihilism. After you, no more reverse hermeneutics. It won’t be long before the truth begins to reveal its self, to undress, for all the image and shadow that cloths the world to unravel piece by piece, slowly at first, then with quickening pace, and all that smart talk won’t mean shit. Let me be very clear, I want you to listen to this, I want you to remember this when we are strangers. Time is coming when you will have to make a choice. A very clear choice. Dig? Time is coming when you will have to do things that are unsavory and harsh or you will likely die. Do you hear that? Time is coming when they will drag you out of your fancy office for speaking out, if you have the clarity and guts to do so, and your hen pecked lackey colleagues will pretend they didn’t see anything. They will remain silent like rabbits and cower in their holes, desperately trying to hang onto a semblance of security and selling their souls in the process, or they will fight to be free. It might be next year, ten years, or forty but I think you will see it, or at least the beginning of it. Yea, I can play the profit anytime I like. Fuck it, fuck what you think. People sneer at me and mine every day, they laugh and dismiss and try to ignore us. But time is when they will remember us, and they will no longer be able to ignore us, as the fires begin to burn closer and they start to feel the heat.”

She yelled at him as he walked out. “I hope you get what you really want, which your head presented to the governor on a silver plate. You are a preaching patchwork boy made up mostly of self-hate. I’ll let you do the repentance for both of us.”

He walked out shaking visibly and wanted badly to get drunk or smash or fight or perhaps just disappear completely into the cool moonless night so that all contradictions were finally resolved.