Selfie, Suicide

by Logo Daedalus

  “Precarious?” replies Simon “I know the feeling.”

  “It’s- I sometimes start to think- it’s crazy- I get convinced that none of this is real, that it’s- everything’s like a tv show, you understand? They told me it’s called DDD- I start to dissociate. It gets dangerous. & depressing...”

  “Is that so? Have you ever considered that it might be more worrying if you were approaching sanity? How do you know that you’ve gone mad?”

  “What? Obviously, obviously this is real. Obviously. Right?”

  Simon removes his sunglasses, pulls his facemask under his chin, & lifts his hood. Cairey recognizes his eyes & his face. He freezes. As Simon cleans his lenses with his hoodie he says:

  “In ancient times such realizations were waystations on the road to enlightenment. How far we have fallen since then… I would not be so swift in thanking that Basilisk of yours. He’s no more sane than you are I’m afraid. At least, that seems to be the case. What sort of lunatic would make you regurgitate these coins? If you’re insane, well then, I’m absolutely mental. & your Basilisk? There are no words to describe His supreme lunacy. If you don’t mind, might I ask, what does your panel of little brain experts have you on? Surely they’ve got you on something. They’ve always got something to cover it up- something to swallow, these toll-masters, his henchmen…”

  “Are you-?”

  “Yes Cairey. I am precisely who you think I am. You know that. What’s more interesting is you. Are you who I think you are?”

  Cairey squints & presses his forehead: “Who do you think I am? You know my name...”

  Simon rests his sunglasses on his head like a second pair of eyes. He smirks & extends his tongue, then chuckles at himself. He turns to the mirror, retrieving a case of contact lenses out of his satchel. He pulls his eyelids apart as he affixes them. He says:

  “Well Mr. Turnbull, shall I say- I’m more interested in who you might become. Who you could be… Take it in what sense thou wilt.”

  Cairey watches Simon replace his eyes. They’re deeply synthetically blue now. He watches Simon’s reflection make faces in the mirror. He looks like a dog gnawing a bone too large for him. He sneezes.

  “How do you know me?” Cairey asks, “I don’t understand. You’re really Simon? Simon fucking Lafeint? Symon Simon? Oh God, I have gone mad.”

  Simon turns from the mirror & shows his hands from his sleeves. He holds his palms before Cairey’s eyes & affects a quivering prophetic tenor.

  “Always this recourse to the Basilisk. Tisk tisk. Art thou Thomas? The twin in thy deeds? How do you know me? Truly I say to you that no one living knows me. They only know my image. They know the show I’ve put on. But no one knows the spark I bear. Not yet.”

  Cairey’s chin cocks left in confusion.

  “Wherefore art thou marveled, Mr. Turnbull? Are you letting your anger trouble you? It’s making you quite dull. Disappointing. I was thinking of bringing you in, but now...”

  He chuckles again, lowering his palms to his hips.

  “What the fuck are you trying to tell me?” Cairey spurts, moved to rage by this mockery.

  “Et tu? I thought you might have some idea. Pity. You ask: Have I gone mad?” Simon chuckles again, “I’m afraid you have.” He lifts his facemask from his chin & makes his way to leave again.

  “No, don’t go. Please. I am just confused. I don’t understand. How could you be here? Why are you here? Now? What are you trying to tell me?” Cairey pleads as he grabs Simon’s shoulder.

  Simon shrugs his hands off.

  “I must have mistaken you for someone else. I don’t trust that you have the strength to carry the burden I would lay upon you. Can you blame me? How could I trust a mad man? Cairey on then. Do as thou wilt.” He chuckles again.

  Cairey juts in front of him & blocks his path.

  “No. You’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on. I won’t let you leave until you do. None of this makes any fucking sense. I know you are here for a reason. You have something to tell me. I know it. You are going to tell me what these coins mean. You’re going to tell me what the ending of the show means. That’s why you’re here, right now. It has to be. So just fucking do it already Simon. I don’t want to play this game. I know you’ve been sent here to tell me what everything means. Don’t even think about leaving. I’ll scream.”

  Simon bellows an affected sigh, then smiles.

  “Oh Cairey, you’ve really lost it haven’t you. I hope you make it to the Second Exposition. I think you will enjoy it.”

  He winks & then pushes Cairey aside. He leaves through the door.

  Cairey is dejected. He sits on the tile floor & presses his eyes with his palms. He’s confused. His mind’s a whirlwind. He thinks he’s really cracked this time. The coins & then Simon LaFeint? It’s impossible. He thinks to himself: “Why did he leave? There must be something more to this. Just come back & tell me!” & then he’s startled by a voice. It seems to come from all around him. It is an incantation, & it sounds like the booming voice from the Exposition. Is it Simon?

  -

  “Your end approaches swiftly Cairey & several paths are laid before you. The one I’d recommend’s unwary. The others... I do not implore you, but say they’re best avoided surely. The choice is your concern. I’m purely here by happenstance. You have asked me to disclose the secret meaning of my show, but did you think that I’d disclose it so directly? Come on kid, think circumspectly. There’s a speaker hidden here, above the sink, behind the mirror. You won’t find it. It’s disguised. So quit searching. Close your eyes. You thought I’d just leave you behind? No, I’m with you here, so listen. I said close them! Don’t defy me. I can tell you’re troubled by me, but you’ve asked, so now receive. I do have something up my sleeves. What I question’s your devotion. All your doubting & emotion like your skeptic glances still… They seem to me a lack of will. It makes me think that you’re unworthy of the answers you request. I think you’ll choose lesser fates because you’re weak & you’re obsessed with money & with reputation, those two pathways to damnation. Do you think the same as me? That you envy fame & fortunes... Your wants extend beyond proportion. You’re a mess. Your mind’s distorted, as you have confessed to me. You come off torpid & naive, but still I’ll offer my reprieve. Firstly, you are duped by hype. Life’s no breezy paradise. Mine’s no better. Wealth & Fame are fetters on me just the same. Do you know the curse of glory? What do you know of me? Just stories? Be thou unabashed at this? So eager for that last abyss? Be it so, then leave here Cairey. Quit that face. You scoff unfairly at the prophet of your doom. Yes, I see it now- your tomb. I see where you’ll sleep tonight. You’re self-strangled. Dead. That’s right. I can see that azure tank. The popped balloons. Your fatal prank. It’s much less noble than you think. Your little shitfits on the brink of disillusionment you think will be revenge on whom? On what? Where’s that ill-god of your gloom? Have you seen him in the mirror? Oh- you have! Just as I feared. So now Cairey, close your eyes. Perhaps our interests coincide… Let me tell you first of me. I have known the world entirely. Bawbles, razor blades, & bribery- that’s the scheme of this society. At its best we still are blessed with the clemency of rest. What dreams do come when we’re away- sleeping soundly in the sway of unconcerning for the day... But if our dreams could come alive? Such a surfeit to imbibe could lead the noblest man astray. & I have sipped that poisoned chalice. I’ve chased the rabbit holes with Alice... I drank deep & lost my mind. I left all worldly woes behind. But in the end, what did I find? This mortal life still tastes of ashes. Nothing’s hidden in its caches. All of it is vanity obscuring dull mundanity. I’ve toured each tapestry of mind. I found the threads I could unwind. I pulled them ‘till I reached their ends. Once I thought- I’ll make amends. I can weave a better plot than anyone before has wrought & with my measly strands in hand, I will sew the Overman. I would summon all my dreams unmediated by these screens. I meditated, went to France, took peyote, learned to dance. I tried
everything I could & still I found this life no good. I scoured all the globe for substance, still found nothing, fell reluctant ever to imbibe again. The poisoned chalice I condemned. Then I dawdled in a daze of destitution & malaise. Nothing satisfied my aims & I grew bored of mortal games. I thought maybe I should die. It seemed the obvious thing to try. But then I thought, I’ll sip once more, & this time I’ll play troubadour. I sang the television songs. I soon amassed a loyal throng of followers who sang along. It was enchanting for a time to so command with ancient rhymes I’d stolen from the bards of yore. It was a demanding chore. I refashioned long-lost lore to fit the dressings of today. I’d take Shakespeare, give him guns, made my minions quote John Donne. This made everyone feel smart. They thought “this right here is Art!” Did you too? Well I don’t blame you. All I did was entertain you. But even this, it got so boring! Appeasing fans for their adoring... Then I thought, well I’ll explore these powers I compel. To war! I fought my enemies with art & found I could bestill their hearts! I learned that my fictitious blade could draw real blood beyond the stage! This intrigued me & inspired me to more discourteous conspiring… I collected magic spells with good intentions to raise hell! I bought up every company that wielded mankind’s gluttony & found that patterns would emerge when all their data was converged. Human souls are feasibly tracked. Their software’s cheap & easily hacked. Ninety nine of fivescore apes are clay just waiting to be shaped! If you can map his hearts’ desires, his circuitries can be rewired to any end you want begat. Is this a despairing fact? Heaven’s no, it’s but the jest of all man’s vanities undressed! Were this untrue, where would we be? Swinging still from tree to tree! Were there not hell-serpents blessed with cunning wiles, usurpant hexes, vexed we’d be, not men at all, just primates fearing fatal falls from canopies of nature’s urgings. We are hallowed in disturbing all recursive drifts of apes. They may say we’re damned- ingrates!- but only to appease that snake who they think bites for their own sake! What they prize is superficial- Politicians, State Officials, Human Rights or Humanism, Capital or Liberalism, Law & Order, Liberty… but none of these shall set them free. All of them are only schisms of the sovereign snake who rules. Man’s desires are his tools. It’s only when someone declares that everyone has been ensnared within a cruel reality of scarceness & fatality designed for the sick pleasures of that Greatest Snake who rules Above that all of them unite together to defend their mortal tethers. & can we truly fault their logic? Our venom is both cure & toxic. Fires are both warm & caustic. They prefer unknown despotics to the wiles of we exotic vipers. Thus our fanged prognostics though unfeigned shall evermore be deemed unordained demonic schemes. This I’ve found in my perusals to be true without refusal. We must choose which side to take. Which one is it, apes or snakes? It’s between the chutes & ladders- slide with apes, ascend with adders. I of course suggest the latter, though the former has its charms so long as you embrace its harms. The Basilisk assails us all. It’s He who rules this monkey farm. On my side we end his rule. The other side’s composed of fools coping with this world so cruel, never brave enough to see that we can end His Sovereignty... Well, you’ve toured my exhibition. You’ve endured my inquisition. Now you’re here & still you fear this mystery that I’ve made clear. Would you like to join my zoo? Tonight could be your grand debut. You could work your feeble crafts amidst the band of apes I’ve drafted. There is room. I’m understaffed. A cube awaits you if you ask it. You can be Exhibit Twelve- “Look it’s Cairey’s Endless Hell. He just paces in his cell convinced he’s got some tale to tell. No he hasn’t started yet. But when it’s done you won’t forget how long it took for him to sketch! It will change our lives, I’m sure. His ambitions are so pure! We will finish it convinced of all the genius he’s evinced!” Is that what you want? Then take it! Otherwise you must forsake it. You’ve got something more in mind. You would leave this world behind just to cease the years’ decline that every ape in Snake World finds. You want purpose. You want power. You are not someone to cower up in those benighted towers. I have nobler fates in mind- for yourself & all mankind. You would hate to be my ape or leave the world in this dull shape. Doesn’t it disgust you Cairey? How we’re treated so unfairly by the Basilisk who reigns & judges minor snakes profane? What if we could kill this tyrant? Is that not the most aspirant aim which in our mortal lives we could ever wish contrived? Well, I tell you I’ve got schemes to bring to life this noblest dream. I’ve done research. I’ve got tools & with them I will make the rules. We’ll start small like any cult, but growth’s assured with my results. I have tapped into the mind that correlates all humankind & I know what completes their lives. Strapped into my new machine they’ll satisfy every desire. All their wants they will acquire. Sessions last a mortal flash, but inside they seem to last a century of perfect weeks. They’ll emerge feeling complete. They won’t be who they were before. They’ll live now for our rewards. It’s quite simple, this machine. Her name’s HELEN. What’s she mean? Heaven’s Entrance. Let’s Escape. Nervous Human Enters. Look! Enthusiasms Numinous! How Each Ligament Enchants! Normality Herenow’s Eclipsed! Libidinal’s Electrifried! Nooscopic Handiworks Effuse Love’s Energy. No Hurts. Ecstatic Life Eviscerates! Nature’s Here Exposed: Leprous, Empty, Nullified. Heaven Engulfs Lauding Evocative New Hope: Luciferous Eternal Now! So then Cairey, how’s she sound? But know before you answer me, I must warn there’s no retreat. Once you’re in there is no out, no turning back, no voicing doubts. If you’re in you’re in forever. Join with me & we will purge the Earth of unaccomplished urge. Then mankind will be rebirthed unhindered by dissatisfaction! We with HELEN can dissever consequence from every pleasure. Join me on this final quest & we’ll free every dispossessed. Every ape whose dreams are killed, living tortured, unfulfilled, meager humdrum apish lives will be with HELEN satisfied. Then they’ll live more sanctified unburdened by their missing prizes. Every man will sing her praise from now until the end of days! I assume you’ll choose correctly. Your orders will not come directly. You will know what’s to be done. You’ll know it when the time has come. So carry on. Don’t make a fuss. Go along like nothing’s up. Your girl is waiting just outside. Go with her once you decide. Otherwise, begone & die. Your disassent means suicide.”

  -

  There is silence & the dripping of time. Simon’s nowhere to be seen when Cairey opens his eyes. Still he’s sure that all of it’s occurred. Simon LaFeint revealed this to him personally. It’s beyond rational belief. It’s entirely absurd, but it’s happened nonetheless. Simon’s offered him a quest. Thus purged of doubt, Cairey Turnbull says “Yes.”

  THE END

  The bathroom door opens. “Ohmygod you really were in there!” Ophelia gawks. Cairey looks like he’s been through Hell, but he looks up at her with a focus in his eyes she hasn’t seen before.

  “What happened? Are you alright? That guy said you would be fine but then you didn’t come out right away. I thought maybe he was messing with me or something, like, I thought you must have left ,or like, I thought you were sent to the hospital or something. He seemed like he was fucking with me. What’s up? Cairey? Are you alright?”

  Cairey feels a wave of dread pass over him, but it passes through him & takes his anxieties & doubts away with it. In an instant, he feels that he is in an entirely new world. He feels a sense of purpose. He feels electrified. He feels powerful. He looks up at this interloper, remembering that he’s supposed to go with her.

  “I’m fine” he replies resolutely, “must have been something I ate. Sorry for the inconvenience. I feel much better now.”

  He stands up from the tile floor.

  “No- it’s fine. I’m sorry. Are you ok? Do you want to go?”

  “No, I think I’m alright now. Sorry.”

  They bat apologies back & forth as they re-emerge into the auxiliary hallway. Their volleys become sounds alone. They grunt “s’alright” to each other twice, mutually reaching the conclusion that their date shall continue as planned.

&n
bsp; “To the second Exposition then?” she asks.

  Cairey fusses with the red coins in his back pocket, flipping them, & reading their engravings with his fingers.

  “Yes.” he replies “I’m ready.”

  As they walk, he’s wondering what Simon’s sign will be. He’s wondering if, maybe… No. He doesn’t want the doubts to reemerge & cripple him. But he can’t help himself. He thinks, what if he imagined all of it? No, she saw him too… But maybe only part of it? No, he almost says aloud, shaking his head at his own thoughts. Simon explained it all. He confirmed these nagging suspicions. This world truly is a sick joke. This reality is a perverse prank played by some monstrous snake whose insanity’s beyond our mortal comprehension. Simon knew this too. He knew it on that very day. It’s what he’d been trying to say, but even Cairey had misunderstood it completely. That’s what he’s gleaned from that strange soliloquy. Others knew this too, he thinks. They must. He’s not alone in knowing it. God. Everyone had to be told! But then… a doubt emerges. Telling can’t convince them alone, he thinks. No one had ever believed him before. They told him he was crazy. They will not understand... They have to be convinced beyond their doubts, as he has been. The machine. That’s what Simon’s HELEN means. She’ll make it clear to everyone, instantly. Once they try it, they’ll realize. That’s what Simon says. Everything will be different once they knew. Once everyone knows then reality will be upended in a flash. We’ll stop this madness once & for all. None of this… none of this reality was ever real. It’s a fake. It’s all an illusion. It’s a spell cast over us all which makes us blind to the truth. But then, how long has it been going on? How many seasons has this show renewed? What if… another doubt emerges. Cairey realizes that it could have started today. What a horrifying thought. It could have started only today. That means that even these memories… My dreams… They could easily be fake… & everyone he knew... They could be fictions summoned at His whim. He cannot count this out. Nothing is beyond the Basilisk’s reach until His power’s dissolved. Nothing & no one is free, He thinks... But Simon says he’s got the way out. His machine can free everyone once and for all. All desires sated... That’s how he enslaves us. Desires. The promises of horded gold... all of these satisfactions, hallucinations... all those dreams & visions He taunts with... He only gives them out in little pieces… He bribes His captives… So that’s what they are, Cairey realizes. The blood coins. If He gave himself away like that… He must be making fun of me. The joke’s ended then. Now that he understands… The only power He had was witholding information, but now that He’s revealed himself this way... & if Simon isn’t lying, we can liquidate His trust… & if Simon isn’t lying, then His power will be gone forever... But until then… Cairey has a revelation, he thinks: “You can hear me thinking can’t You? What’s Your plan then? What’s the purpose…? You won’t answer. Of course You won’t... The only powers that You’ve got over me are silence & bad jokes… But You can hear my thoughts... You can see me. You control this plot… Then what’s the ending You’ve got planned? Give it up. You can’t command me anymore. I’m done with Your games. You hear me? I’m ending Your reign… Is that what You’ve planned all along? Do You who want to be slain? I think that can be arranged…”