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Acid | The | |||
Monday, September 6 , 2004 |
No Story |
source: "Chaucer for Dickheads"
posted: September 6, 2004, 9:01 AM by: www |
Gradually a complex story begins to play out. It's the story of a group of people without a
story and wherever they go people say to them, "What! No story?"
But though all 50 of them live together in a medium-size city, still, their no-story is the only story in town. So everybody's always talking about them and pointing them out at Wal-Marts and JC Penney's. Soon everybody's story becomes what they're gonna do about these motherfuckers that don't HAVE a story, and who, if you pointed your .44 magnum at them and said this is the most powerful handgun in the world and could blow your head clean off, would probably just smirk back at you and say stories?!! stories?!! we don't NEED no steeenking stories!! Whole economies emerged, centered around what to do about these people without a story, whole academic disciplines, whole industries sprang up, books were published, songs and poetry written, awards and prizes given and received, honorary degrees created, chairs endowed, and medals for outstanding achievement in pursuit of what the fuck these people without a fucking story are really fucking ABOUT, flowed like wine. Careers were made and broken over who could say fuck these people without a fucking story the loudest or with the most feeling. Whole new cultures evolved along with ways of acting when someone said something about these people or you saw one of them in the car in the next lane or walking down a side street in the opposite direction. And soap operas arose to organize it all. So no one in town or even in the state the town was in or the nation the state was in had any stake in believing it when these people finally confessed to actually HAVING a story, after all. A story they claimed they'd had all along but had kept so deeply hidden for so many centuries and generations, that even its very existence was often a surprise to themselves. "But now," their self appointed spokesman, Emperor Clothes, said, "to shut all you people the fuck up and destroy your lives and livelihoods and your culture and your economies and souls built around lies of other people who don't have a story and yet are the only story in town, we are going to reveal to you the precise details of our story, which is so powerful and beautiful a story of love and redemption and of dreams fulfilled and of eternal bliss, that you might not want to fucking listen, out of fear that it will trigger the race which, unknown to you, is now already on and being run, between your sudden unexpected death from sailing off an overpass in a recently cherried out Camaro, vs. the moment when someone accidentally rolls down her window, and the whole world is sucked back into nothingness." |