“Hello,” Traci said.
“Casi?”
“Angus.”
“Who’s cooler, the Loch Ness Monster or Bigfoot?”
“I don’t know.”
“C’mon which?”
“I have no preference.”
“If you had to choose, gun to your head.”
“I guess I would then say Loch Ness but I stress that a gun would have to be involved.”
“See?” said Angus pointing at Louis.
“Defend that choice because four out of five say Bigfoot,” said Louis.
“Just cooler I don’t know. I’m tired.”
“C’mon make something up. But like the kind of things we say.”
“The kind of things you say? Fine, how’s this? The thought of a guy who looks at vaginas for a living dropping some toy in a body of water and spurring decades of debate in a certain underdeveloped segment of society reassures and comforts me with the power of designer truth. Happy?”
“Wait, it was a hoax?” said Louis.
“I will say this on Bigfoot’s behalf however. There was a movie,” said Angus a look of careful reconsideration on his face.
“Movie?” groaned Traci.
“Yeah, movie-theatre and everything. So we’re all settled in ready for this movie to start when suddenly from a door near the screen comes this like huge eight-foot-tall guy bearing a striking resemblance to Bigfoot—the very same Bigfoot about to star in the feature we plunked down five bucks to see. Well for once this sort of thing works and of course there follows a rush of about fifty eight-to-ten-year-olds flooding into the aisle and running up the incline to the exit. Anyway goddamn Bigfoot gets the brilliant idea that he’s going to like pursue the kids for a while, you know ham it up. Well long story short he steps on a box of melted Raisinets, becomes involuntarily airborne and lands on like some seven-year-old girl who proceeds to have what theatre management termed a brief respite in cardiactivity. I think they banned those kind of promotional stunts at that theatre for like the next thirty-five years. You can’t do cool shit like that with Loch Nesses the way you can with Bigfeet. So basically I change my vote.”
“Me too,” said a resigned Louis. “I love hoaxes.”
“You love hoaxes?” said Alyona. “What do you think fucking Bigfoot was? Some clown named Ray Wallace photographing his wife in a Sasquatch suit!”
“The hell’s a Sasquatch suit?” said Traci.
“Like a leisure suit.”
“No, more like a zoot suit.”
“Or a monkey suit.”
“Or your birthday suit.”
“Or a chicken-skin suit.”
Where we were was the living room, which had three different non-complementary throw rugs. In the center of the room, both literally and figuratively, was Television. Angus sat exactly 8.3 feet from its screen and precisely twelve degrees to the right of its imaginary extended midpoint. On the rare occasion he rose from that spot, the sofa maintained a little scoop where his ass belonged. According to Angus, this particular positioning of the viewer was said to create optimal video-aural receptory performance according to several well-respected studies performed by several similarly-respected institutes. The rest of the room paid homage to its star as well. The furniture had been strategically positioned to encourage crystalline reception. The sofa seemed to lean towards Television like a needy plant towards the sun. Speakers of varying sizes appeared in odd places and assumed unlikely, almost pornographic, positions. The result was that Television’s sound had you sensurrounded with resistance being futile Earthling. And on top of Television that night sat a new silver box; the red and green lightbars it contained vying for attention.
“What’s that thing?”
“New HDVDCR man,” said Angus. “The Casio Carousel, that’s its name. This puppy can handle up to fifteen Entertainmentities at one time. I can press this button and go to any of the fifteen in an instant. I can also operate the device in such a fashion as to create a never-ending loop of entertainment. Again all at near instantaneity. The booklet even says that if I ever have to wait more than three seconds for one of the entities to play I get my choice of my money back or a part in their next commercial. Do you own a stopwatch?”
“It doesn’t come with one?”
“Hmm.”
“Have you heard of a Television that turns on automatically when your favorite shows are on?”
“I don’t understand, why would you turn it off?”
Television: Magilla Gorilla for sale . . .
“See. That I have a problem with,” said an exasperated Louie as the channel changed three times during the course of his statement. “How can Magilla Gorilla be for sale just like that? What, you walk into a basic pet store and buy a gorilla?”
“Seriously, I agree,” said Angus. “And if that were the case how much does a gorilla like that go for and where does this little girl get that kind of green?”
“She doesn’t. It’s bullshit. A gorilla like that. One that can talk? That simian’s got to be worth a fortune!”
“Except Magilla couldn’t talk,” said Angus.
“Yeah I don’t think he could talk either,” contributed Traci.
“I bet he could talk if he had to. He probably just never had much to say,” countered Louis.
“He was purple. That’s got to jack the price up,” said Angus.
“He wasn’t purple dude you’re thinking of goddamn Grape Ape,” said Louis.
“I think they were both purple,” said Traci.
“Here, let me try to find it again,” said Angus.
“Casi?” from a tiring Louis.
“I don’t know, black and white set.” I drifted to the back of the apartment where Alyona searched his bedroom with increasing desperation. Our best-laid plan would crumble if Alyona didn’t find the key I’d given him.
“I’ve looked everywhere,” he said. “I have no idea where I put it and locating something in this mess is no small task.”
“I have faith in you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Got it, maybe Louis can hypnotize you to remember where you put them.” (In addition to his lifelong love of advertising Louis had a new interest in anything hypnotic, alleging that the distinction between the two fields grew blurrier by the day. One day about two months past he had gone to a three-day seminar in Anchorage, Alaska given by someone named Gary Dullen, a self-proclaimed hypno-guru. Before he left he showed me the brochure which said inter alia that YOU TOO CAN LEARN HOW TO HYPNOTIZE OTHERS IN JUST 12 EASY LESSONS! AMAZE YOUR FRIENDS AND IMPROVE YOUR PERSONALITY! The premise, and the allure for Louis, was that you needn’t wish to become a professional hypnotist to benefit from the seminar. Materials would be given, workbooks used, with the end result that your $239.99—all major credit cards accepted—would be exchanged for a winning hypnotic personality, one that would win you the admiration of others, although they may not be entirely sure why they admire you.)
“No way,” Alyona said. “I would sooner break your door down and deal with my uncle than let that guy mess with my head, he’s that scary. Though not as scary as that other nut. Sometime I’ll tell you.”
“Well I’ll give you your privacy as long as you promise a continued good-faith effort.”
“Be not afraid for it has become almost personal at this point.”
I walked back towards the living room while picturing, really almost feeling, my lumpy but loyal bed.
“Want an espresso?” said Louis from the open kitchen.
“It’s two in the morning. I have to be at work in about seven hours.”
“Is that a yes?”
“That’s a no-but-thank-you. You guys plan to sleep at any point?”
“Tell him your plan, go ahead,” said Louis motioning to Angus with his chin while measuring coffee grounds.
“Well the truth is I bought The Casio Carousel for a reason. Tonight starting in less than one-half hour, Channel Eleven, as they do ever
y year though a bit late this year, is presenting a Honeymooners marathon, all thirty-nine episodes back to back and in order.”
“And your plan?”
“On the surface what I’m going to do is record all of the episodes. Then, thanks to the Carousel’s highly attuned C.E.S. or Commercial Extraction Sensor, I will replay the episodes without commercial interruption on a continuous self-propelling and repetitive loop.” At mention of the sensor Louis had visibly shuddered then fired ocular evil in Angus’s direction. “That’s what I’m going to do on the surface,” Angus continued unfazed.
“Okay. And below the surface?”
“I’m going to turn Ralph Kramden and possibly the three others into actual human beings.”
“What do you think of that Casi?” asked Louis.
“Nothing.”
“You must think something of it,” said Angus.
“Nope.”
“C’mon be honest.”
“It’s honestly late.”
“Honestly? You think nothing?”
“Fine, I think it seems you really like the show but I also think you’re being frivolous.”
“It does sound frivolous, I admit that, but that’s only because I haven’t taken the time to properly explain,” Angus said with the air of someone about to repeat something they had said earlier with far greater emotion. “What happens when two people become friends Casi? I say that at least part of what happens is that the two people become more real to each other. In a sense each feels that the other has become more of a human being. Anyone would agree with that but how does this happen? How does someone go from being a collection of flesh and bone who generally occupies the same space as us to being a real person who has an inner life that we, on some level, care about. Well I think the principal way this happens is through speech and language. After all, we can see the same person every day for years but if we’ve never heard them speak I maintain that if properly confronted we’d be hard-pressed to even think of them as human and we certainly wouldn’t consider them friends. That sounds odd I know, but have you ever been in a room full of complete strangers who weren’t talking? Did you ever then have a fleeting thought or feeling that maybe they didn’t really exist at all the way you exist? On the other hand, people actualize through speaking. Actors know this. How many lines? they ask when considering a part, not how much face time. Hostages talk to their tormenters in the hopes of becoming more human and therefore harder to kill. These people seem to realize that the more we hear someone talk in a variety of situations the closer we become to them, the more real they become to us. Their speaking makes it harder to ignore their status as actual people with inner lives like ours. So why is that? The answer is probably obvious but I don’t know what it is. Nevertheless, and more importantly, I’m going to make this process happen in the context of The Honeymooners. Sure I’ve seen all these episodes before but half-hour at a time and diffused among all this other stimuli. This time, however, I’m going to be running these episodes in a constant loop. I won’t move a muscle while they play. There will be no commercials. The result is that over time Ralph Kramden and to a lesser extent the others will begin to seem, no, will in fact become, more and more real. And why not? I’ll see them in a variety of situations. They’ll be coming into my home! What could be more intimate than that?”
“You can’t touch them for one.”
“So what? How many times have I touched you? Are we not friends? Are you not real? These people will be constantly speaking to each other.”
“Right, to each other not to you.”
“That’s irrelevant. There are people in this room right now as we speak solely to each other yet their perception of us as actual beings suffers not in the slightest.”
“They can join in if they wish. If you try to join these Honeymooners conversations you’ll only establish that you’re insane.”
“They can join in that’s true, but if they choose not to does that make us any less real to them? I will not be joining in these conversations but I will observe them and listen to them for so long and in the absence of any other stimuli that the characters will eventually become real in an important sense of the word.”
“Okay how long?”
“As long as it takes. My guess is at least a hundred hours or enough to see every episode seven times.”
“You’ll lose interest, become bored. You’ll be highlighting the absent third dimension in these people and the illusion will be shattered.”
“Two-dimensional, three-dimensional, what’s the difference? People are people dude. Why discriminate against Ralph just because he happens to cause a different kind of image on my retina? Don’t you think it’s time people of different races, creeds, colors, and realities came together? Besides, the thrill of creation will keep me interested. Man is never more alive than when he is creating. I’ll be a modern-day Prometheus but whereas he worked with clay I’ll work with televisual analog waves and digital pulses. What could be more exciting than that? Besides if I start to falter, Lou and Traci have agreed to help.”
“Help how?”
“If they see I’m getting tired, disinterested or whatever they’re going to say things like c’mon Angus you can do it, don’t quit. You get the idea.”
“Big help.”
“Turns out it will be. Listen to this psych study. First they get a bunch of volunteers together. These people agree that they’ll put their bare feet in buckets of ice water and keep them there for as long as possible. Now I tried this the other day and can faithfully report that it hurts when you do that. Real pain. Anyway, they split these people into two groups. One of the groups is all alone so to speak. They stick their feet in the bucket, hold out as long as they can and someone times them. The other group does essentially the same thing only they have these people around them shouting encouragement. Well you can see where this is going as the cheerleader group substantially outperforms the other group.”
“Substantially how? What are the actual numbers?”
“What do I know? Statistically significant as we say. The principle is the important thing. People need people after all.”
“3-D people. When do you learn about these studies anyway? I never see you go to class.”
“I haven’t missed a lecture all year. Tell him Lou.”
“He hasn’t missed a lecture all year,” deadpanned Lou.
“I’ve never seen you leave the house.”
“That’s the beauty. I don’t have to leave the house to go to class. I take two classes both taught by the same teacher and he broadcasts all his lectures on the school’s e-campus. I sit in front of the computer’s twenty nine inch flatscreen monitor at the allotted times and soak in all the knowledge with minimal interruption to my day.”
“Wouldn’t it be good to leave the house, interact with other students, discuss the lectures, ask the professor questions in person?”
“He has his own website you can ask him questions at any time during the week. That other stuff you’re saying is vastly overrated. Information is everything. Give me the information. Supply it like any other product. The method of delivery is irrelevant. I’ll learn, if you want to use that term, the information myself and who knows I may even use it someday. What do people have to do with it?”
“You’re a psych major right?”
“Yeah so? I watch people every day on Television and don’t say they’re not in their natural state. Being on Television is fast becoming the natural state. In the future all life will be televised. Our mayor was on Television tonight saying that a camera can be more effective than a gun in the war against crime. He wants to put cameras everywhere then arm you and me with even more cameras to help the state fight crime. How will people act then? Well I have a better idea than most.”
“They said it couldn’t be done!” Alyona walking towards me with the key in his hand and never had my eyes feasted on sweeter sight. I wanted out and up real bad. In my weakened state, Angus had h
alf-convinced me that Kramden and Norton would soon be in the room and I knew enough people. My left ear hurt too, I cupped my hand to it. “You’ve got to get that ear checked out man. Here you go.” Alyona dropped the key in my other palm. I thanked him, offered brief good-byes, and headed for the door with visions of bed in head when:
“By the way who’s the worst guy you represented tonight?” asked Louis.
“Everybody was fine tonight.”
“Who was charged with the worst crime though?”
“I had a guy charged with using the subway without paying.”
“Bastard, what else?”
“Let’s see, I had another guy selling batteries in the subway without a license.”
“That’s illegal?” joined Alyona.
“Yeah, twenty-nine hours in jail and counting.”
“Dude I can’t believe you’re in favor of crime.”
“He’s not in favor of crime he just likes it.”
“He doesn’t just like it he adores it.”
“You’re both wrong, he doesn’t admire it in any way. He abhors it like the rest of us. It’s just that he recognizes it as a legitimate, albeit alternate, lifestyle.”
“I have to go,” I said.
“The other day someone stole my club, you believe that?” said Traci. “I don’t mean that someone stole my car while The Club was on it. No, someone broke into my car for the express purpose of stealing my Club which I had neglected to place on the steering wheel and which was sitting on the back seat.”
“Delicious irony actually,” said Louie. “Undone by your own protective measures.”
“Yes that from which you sought protection has instead inspired malfeasance,” said Alyona.
“What are you a fucking biblical narrator?”
Television: With Art Carney, Audrey Meadows . . .
“Okay guys I need monastery-type quiet,” said Angus. “The marathon’s about to begin.”
“I’m gone, thanks for the shelter.” I was out the door and up the stairs in record time. Put key in door and it opens was my new favorite technology. Casper was on the table all right that ghostly prick. The answering machine blinked plaintively. Scattered on the floor was mail. The mailbox was broken again and Alyona must have slid it under my door. In the middle was a familiar yellow envelope with its tiresome but nonetheless fear-inducing slogan: IF YOU THINK EDUCATION IS EXPENSIVE, TRY IGNORANCE. Inside, I knew a posteriori, would be threats: your credit rating . . . collection agency and other ominous warnings. I read this as if about another, without alarm or true belief. More mail alleging it was sensitive to time; I sympathized. From my machine came exhortations: Don’t forget about tomorrow . . . I can see you’re not going to return my phone calls . . . please call immediately regarding your account.
A Naked Singularity: A Novel Page 7