ππππππππππππ πππππ ππ πππππππ ππππ ππ πππππππππ
β
PREFACE IN BED (APOPHENE DREAM)
Iβll start without a sentence resolvingβ
I am now and forever engaged in acts of banditry irrational.
Current-thwarting swimming upstream backward stupid-stubborn.
Against all sense.
A war on reason.
Spring-sprung.
Song-sung.
Sprang for four full summoned seasons.
Be not fearful it is MERELY
A barrel, REVOLVING:
I need to get around.
Let me through.
J.Q.D.
βΊ
ππππππππππππ πππππ ππ πππππππ ππππ ππ πππππππππ
This is a play, or potentially a co-operative side-scrolling video game or mixed-media art installation or criminal confession, for two characters.
They are invoked as A and B.
You are both of them.
Others may appear, but they are incidental, and perhaps hallucinatory.
All of this has happened many times before.
β KEY
:
Satellite data reveal anomalies up to 19 days before 2023 Turkey earthquake
β KEYβ΅
:
A mysterious YouTube video (I have no involvement with this and it appears that David Lynch may be playing an elaborate prank on me) uploaded by user βHoracio the Handsnakeβ that currently has five views:
REVERSE CALF
βWhereβd you get those boots?β
βLike, who made them?β
βNo, whereβd you get them?β
βLike, which store?β
βYeah.β
βThe Internet.β
βOh.β
βTheyβre from Italy.β
βYouβre an imported fellow.β
A/B
ββAlternate realities are the future if not the present.β
βYeah?β
βMinimal overlap.β
A and B stroll Hollywood Boulevard.
βThe universe is clipping.β
βThey say . . . They say there are places in this world where the fabric of reality becomes thinner.β
βTheyβre always saying shit. Thereβs a patch for that.β
βThe fabric or the saying?β
βYes. Each hellmouth. Plugs and gags. Weβre all plumbing.β
βSome are plumbers.β
βMe? Iβm a gullet and an asshole. A real eat-and-shit man.β
βYou fuck around, but have you ever felt hellβs warmth at your feet?β
βLike a cat lazing at the fireplace.β
βEarthβs core, sure β but tell me β have you felt the furnace of Satan and his legions?β
βWhat is it theyβre burning down there? Calories?β
βSinner kindling.β
βTruly.β
βWhoβs your devil figure anyway? Horns and a tail? Anton LaVey guy?β
βHe ripped off a Don Rickles character you know.β
βI know.β
βYou know Rickles has a star down here.β
βYou know.β
βYou know.β
βI do.β
βI know.β
βI know you know.β
βIβve seen it. I remember it. I remember everything I see, hear, read. Itβs a problem. Iβm a sponge. You know what I donβt remember is I donβt remember fucking King Baggot.β
They approach the star.
βYeah, you got me. I donβt know the fuckinβ guy. Look, Iβm just your tour guide.β
βIβd fire you if I were paying.β
βYouβll pay in your own way.β
βYou reckon Anton LaVeyβs got one?β
βA star?β
βYeah.β
βI mean, he was an organist, right? They honor musicians . . .β
βThe man laid pipe.β
βHe was a Bay Area entertainer though.β
βTrue.β
βLike Mac Dre, or Robin Williams.β
βRobin Williamsβ gotta have a star.β
βOf course he does.β
βYou know who doesnβt have a star is Clint Eastwood.β
βReally?β
βDoesnβt want one.β
βThey canβt just, like, give him one?β
βNot how it works.β
βBut everybody knows Clint Eastwood.β
βYeah, he doesnβt want anything to do with it.β
βProbably why tourism is down.β
βWhat?β
βThe lack of Clint.β
βCould be.β
βTheyβre pushing this Baggot nonsense on us like we donβt know better.β
βWeβll get to the bottom of it.β
The ground rumbles slightly.
βFuck was that?β
βI donβt know, probably a tweaker falling out of a tree.β
From his brimstone bed at break of day
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β A walking the Devil is gone,
Β Β Β Β To look at his snug little farm of the World,
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β And see how his stock went on.
Β Β Β Β Over the hill and over the dale,
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β And he went over the plain;
Β Β Β Β And backward and forward he swish'd his tail
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β As a gentleman swishes a cane.
β βThe Devilβs Walk on Earth,β Robert Southey
A CONTINUOUS DREAM
βThis motherfucker definitely never existed.β
βJust look at how new it looks!β
βTheyβre insulting us.β
βRidiculous.β
βI do not remember this star being here.β
βMe either.β
βLike at all. At-all-at-all.β
βNot at all.β
βBullshit is what I say.β
βYou know, people tell me all the time, they say β βB, you are Hollywood.ββ
βYeah?β
βYeah, and I never heard of the guy.β
βHeβs Old Hollywood, though.β
βYou saying Iβm new?β
βIβd never.β
βIβm βHollywood B,β and donβt you forget it.β
STARSβ CARVING β β’ β β β¦οΈ β« β β¬ β°
βWeβre going to need to come back with tools.β
βRight.β
βDiamond-blade saw.β
βYouβve got one?β
β[UNINTELLIGIBLE AUDIO]
does.β
βDo you think weβll get arrested?β
βCould be good for us.β
βYou got a clean sheet?β
βLike a ghost.β
βAnyway, hi-viz vests, no one will fuck with us.β
βYouβve got one?β
βI have three.β
βShit, alright.β
βThrift store score. Knew theyβd come in handy.β
βββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ[title card drop]
βββββββββNEW WESTERN πΈβππ & πΈπ HππΌππCπ
ββββββββββββββββββββββββsα΄α΄α΄
Ιͺα΄Κα΄Ι΄α΄Κ
βββββββββββSAURIAN SKIES KINO (sα΄/α΄α΄ )
βββββββββββββππππππππππ π.π©.π.
βββββββββββββββββββ&
βββββββββββββego def/ILLUSION
ββββββββββββββββββpresent
ππππππππππππ πππππ ππ πππππππ ππππ ππ πππππππππ
βββββββββββββββas realized by
βββββββββββββπππππ πππππππ ππππππ
ββββββββββββββββββββββββaka
ββββββββββββββπππππππππ . . .
βββββββββββββ. . . πππ ππππ π-ππππππ
βββββββββββπππ πππππππππ πππππππ . . .
ββββββββββββ. . . πππ ππππππππππππππ
βββββββββββββββββπ.π.π.
ββββββββββββββββββπβ
CUT/AWAY
The saw went in easily enough.
βHeβs not real.β
βCanβt be.β
None of the near-distance nightlife seemed to question 3 AM demolition.
βI mean, are we real?β
βWell, no.β
βYou figure I still exist when Iβm out of your eyes and ears?β
βIβve gotta figure.β
βDid I exist before you met me?β
βProbably.β
βOnly probably?β
βBest I can give you.β
LOWER LAIR
They hadnβt known theyβd meet the man himself.
Down there.
Hadnβt expected the hollow star to reveal a long ladder.
But theyβd followed it to its end.
Descended.
And now they are his captives.
Baggot throws his head back and laughs.
Long peals of dramatic stage laughter.
Dancing flames fill the dungeon in time to the upward thrust of his clawed hands.
King Baggot, in his (alleged) existence, primarily played the hero.
Heβd done a turn as Jekyll, and a double-turn as Hyde, in 1913 (allegedly).
Thatβs if youβre a Baggot Believer.
I mean β how hard could it be?
Fake a silent film these days?
Childβs play.
Think itβd be hard to slip a forgery past all these screen-rotted credulous cretins?
Cβmon.
Doubtful.
KING BAGGOT does not currently appear to be playing:
βI shall take mortality from you, and thus β rendered deathless β your suffering extends across the ages!β
A and B are lashed to a carved stone wall, in chains.
βAre we on drugs?β
βWeβre, like, in the sewer, right?β
βI think we already died.β
βYou shall never die! Never!β
βFuck, man.β
ESSENTIAL TREMOR
Baggot bangs his signature trident staff to the cavern floor.
Shockwaves ripple to the surface.
A 4.4.
A jolt.
βMy fault.β
He sneered.
King Baggot, the Lord of Earthquakes.
And of entertainment.
βThe Most Photographed Man in the World . . .
The Face You See in the Moon.β
βTo-kyo, Fris-co, Kath-man-du!β
Bang, bang, bang.
βIβll give you a 7.2!β
Bang.
βLima!β
Bang.
βNaples!β
Bang.
βIstan-bul!β
Leaps, jazz hands.
βFeel my power! Feel my pull!β
The fiend makes a circular swing of his trident.
Seismic waves and shifting plates.
βI! Am! Tek-Ton!β
A and B commiserate, helplessly sidelined:
βWhat in the fuck, man?β
βWhat in the fuck.β
βI donβt fucking know, man.β
βWhat the hell is that thing made of? Roswell wreckage?β
"SILENCE!β
Baggotβs voice boomed strange echoes in the cavern.
. . .
NONSENSEMAKING (CORONA DE MIERDA)
[footage missing]
βLook, I really just want to entertain people, okay?β
Roles reverse.
βMy name β my real name β itβs, itβs Jerry, well itβs Gerald, but, lookββ
B wields the trident.
βSo youβre not King Baggot?β
Forward thrust.
βWhat? No, Iβ Look, of course Iβm not βKing Baggot,β itβs all fake.β
Withdrawn.
βWhat do you mean?β
βEverything. I made it all up. Look, I used to live down the way, right, on Las Palmas. Had rent control and everything. Nice little 1-bedroom. My own parking space. The whole bit. It was all good, man. All good. Had an easy job editing music videos, and, man, you know what happened.β
βYeah.β
βNot a lot of music television these days.β
βNot for money, man, I feel you.β
βRight, so one day I get this bright idea to just Make Up a Guy.β
βGood town for it.β
βYeah, youβre in the right place.β
βI know, right? Convenient. So anyway, a King is born.β
βWhatβs with the Neptunian fusion?β
B bangs the trident.
βJesus, be careful with that!β
A 3.7 hits Simi Valley.
(did you feel it?)
βI thought the cat jumped on the bed!β
Sheβll say.
(you know her)
βYou gotta lotta nerve dressed up like a cartoon devil talking about Jesus.β
βAnd you fellas got a lotta nerve bustinβ into my place!β
A asserts:
βItβs our place now, Baggot.β
βSo what do we do, Jerry? We gotta kill you, or what?β
Pseudobaggot guffawing.
βYou fellas arenβt killers.β
βNo?β
βIβve met killers. Cβmon, kid, Iβve been years under Hollywood Boulevard!β
βFair.β
βSo what, you wanna take over for me?β
βAs like, Earthquake Satan?β
βAs King Baggot, the Lord of the Underworld.β
βWell where would you go?β
βI set up a fake grave, some years ago . . . Similar set-up.β
βYou have a second home?β
βYeah, east LA.β
βLike, Silverlake βEast LAβ or you talking about East Los?β
Pseudobaggot smirked.
βWhittier Boulevard baby.β
βSo what do you get up to over there? All earthquakes, or?β
βOh Iβve got a scepter that brings floods.β
βSo youβre, like, lazier there?β
βYeah, you know, itβs my second place.β
βBut you want β what? Me, us? To take over for you?β
βOh I mean itβs all gotten a little old, hasnβt it? I mean, you knock Northridge down, chop Karachi, whatever, right? After a while itβs just prank phone calls . . .β
βYouβre ready to retire.β
βYou could put it that way.β
βSo youβd like to pass the torch.β
βIt burns bright, my child.β
βThe trident, even.β
βVery astute.β
βCan it, Jerry.β
Pseudobaggotβs mouth flattened.
βNo way me and B are killing kids. Crumbling buildings. No way.β
βI mean, someoneβs gotta do it.β
βYouβre a real sick fuck.β
βB, you know what to do.β
The trident snapped in half more easily than youβd expect.
Like any other gimmick.
βNo! No!β
Pseudobaggot wailed.
Echoes on echoes.
In agony of his irrelevance.
βThe gig is up.β
And the ladder too.
And the conversation.
A and B saw themselves out.
βWhat men have called friendship is only a social arrangement, a mutual adjustment of interests, an interchange of services given and received; it is, in sum, simply a business from which those involved propose to derive a steady profit for their own self-love.β
ββββββββββββ FranΓ§ois de La Rochefoucauld
Κα΄α΄α΄α΄Κα΄Κ . . .
CMD XI.
When walking in open territory, bother no one.
If someone bothers you, ask him to stop.
If he does not stop, destroy him.
JAMES QUENTIN DEVINE