When I finally left there, I was no longer pissed-off or
bummed out, in any way -- but the only sounds I could
hear were the sounds of forks and spoons tossed into a
drawer together and/or dishes being stacked in a
I went to some new town and bought an abandoned
warehouse and started a storage business that took
anything from anybody and catalogued it away forever.
This allowed people to get all the shit out of their
lives and set themselves momentarily free to try again,
without the suffocating web of people, ideas, values,
crimes, tragedies, gains, losses, pictures, offspring,
ancestors, stories, traditions, desires, heroes, idols,
Then, when they gave up trying to be alive, they could
come crawling back to my warehouse and retrieve all
their old crap for some exorbitant fee.
This wasn't a business, after all. It was really a bet
against freedom. A bet that people would always give it
up and come running back and pay absolutely anything to
possess their old bondage gear again. Regardless of
what they actually said.
I went to see the man.
Finally, when it was his lunch break, he looked at me,
ready to deal.
"OK," he said, "So you want to move into another
He must have had me confused with somebody else, but I
nodded and played along.
"Well, I only have a few minutes for my lunch," he said,
taking a sandwich out of a paper bag and biting into
it. It looked like Synthetic Blue -- on a shingle.
"OK," he said, "Close your eyes and imagine a point of
light at the edge of the universe.
"Imagine you are hanging out there at the end of a
string, and you are placing palm-sized units at random,
on tacks throughout space.
"Some of the units work and some don't. You are trying
to connect them with coaxial cable. Then the universe
hiccups and all the units drop off. Now, none of them
He paused for a moment to pick a piece of lettuce or
rindgy out of his teeth.
"Now just relax and wait for a new light to appear in
the distance and let yourself float to it. When you get
there, you will be back where you started, but in a
"Of course, there is no guarantee that this dimension
will please you any more than the one you've just left."
Then I was back in Toshibaland, caring for the sick and
feeding the hungry and sheltering the homeless and
loving the unloved and flattering the ugly and warming
the cold and educating the ignorant and soothing the
angry and resurrecting the dead and re-invigorating the
But this was all just, you know, like one big cover-up
-- for being, like, just soooooo utterly fucked.
It got so bad, I ran for Governor on the Midnight
Accident ticket. This was the party that had won the
CanaMex-NicaRican War by parachuting their most vicious
convicts, psychopaths, and action heroes onto enemy soil
and then just letting Nature take his course.
Unfortunately, this course had also led to a complex and
interconnected series of national economic collapses
which, ultimately, affected everyone, even assholes.
And, now, we were stuck with the unfortunate agenda of
cleaning it up.
--By Robert Schamm and the Pharaohs
Robert Schamm is lead singer and plays keyboards
for the Pharaohs, an R&B-Doo Wop group outta Nutley, New
Jersey. His deconstruction of the categories of misuse
of the word "deconstruction" is a classic in the field
and his analysis of everything slimy and moldy will be a
weekly feature of STALL
during the election season.