by Ernest Hogan
But believe us, here at Global News Net we have come across the truth, and here it is:
Smokey Espejo was a spontaneously generated artificial intelligence, a product of the mediasphere. He was just using the name of that Aztec god and the body of that Chicano hacker. Smokey is still with us. God has entered the mediasphere.
Believe it. It's on Global News Net.
In other news, President Jones has decided to break his silence with a news conference this afternoon, in which he will reveal the big secret that he's been keeping.
Looks like life goes on.
*
"It'll take us months to figure out all the data we've snagged," said Director Ho. "There may have been some damage to the Station infosystem."
"In a way everything has been damaged, or at least changed." Tan Tien looked good over the phone, you wouldn't have guessed that she'd had a rough weekend. "And nothing will ever be the same."
"So what are we to do? Is the Tezcatlipoca entity still at large?"
"It seems to be. It no longer has control of Beto Orozco's body, but there have been manifestations."
"Why didn't it self-destruct like the Earth Angel God simulation?"
Tan Tien gave him a soft smile. "The Earth Angel AI couldn't possibly gather enough data to be an omniscient entity that created the universe, it couldn't believe in itself."
Ho groaned. "But Tezcatlipoca is unbelievable!"
Tan Tien shook her head. "You are such a monotheist. Tezcatlipoca is a trickster, so he doesn't have to believe in anything. In many ways he is more suited for the Information Age than other gods."
"And why didn't Tezcatlipoca cease to exist when Orozco's infosystem was smashed?"
Tan Tien became damned beatific. "The AI entity grew, acquired other means of support – like the implant. Tezcatlipoca has a strong survival instinct."
Ho trembled. "How could that be?"
Tan Tien shrugged her shoulders, which in the peasant blouse she was wearing, were left bare. "We're not sure. It may have to do with a lack of control elements in that version of the god-simulating program."
"No control elements? Then how can he be stopped?"
"We tried to install some control elements during the exorcism, but did they work? Who knows? I guess we'll be keeping in touch. Ti-Yong/Hoodoo Investigations are an ongoing process."
"Uh. I guess. I have to go now. Good-bye Tan Tien."
"Good-bye Director Ho."
They clicked off in unison.
Suddenly, there was music playing. It was "Smoking Mirror Blues."
Tan Tien turned to see Zobop in front of the music player.
"Interesting choice," she said, looking over his naked, sinewy body.
"It's great blues," he said. "Very powerful. The world can always use more of this kind of stuff."
"The blues, after all, are healing magic." She licked her cupid's bow lips.
"Speaking of healing magic . . ." He came over, leaned down, kissed her fine, white neck, reached under her peasant blouse and took both of her small breasts in one hand.
"Yes." She stroked his huge, black penis with her tiny fingers. "Magic."
*
A bleached-blonde asio reporter smiled at the camera and said, "Due to the mental breakdown of Smokey Espejo, a.k.a Beto Orozco, the highly-anticipated global satellite concert scheduled for the beginning of the final night of Dead Daze was canceled. No explanation for the breakdown can be found; Orozco himself is unable to articulate. Rumor of Satanic possession are said to have been exaggerated."
Cut to a tape of a close shot of Beto, who looked a good decade older, with lines on his face and hair now shot with grey.
A voiceover asked, "Why did you do it?"
Beto smiled a Tezcatlipoca smile. "Motivation obvious. Don't you see it? Mediasphere alive alive oh wow. Got gods soul attitude. Awhompbombalua abombbamboom ooheooh ahah tingtang wallawalla bing bang!"
*
As the Aztlán Airbus rose out of the smog over LAX, Ralph breathed a long sigh of relief that ended in a cough.
Earlier, when Zobop had dropped him off at the airport, Ralph had been smiling with a disturbing intensity.
"Why so happy?" Zobop had asked.
"Oh, I'm just so glad to be going back home. El Lay is just too sci-fi for me."
Zobop gave another one of his inscrutable smiles. "Sci-fi ain't nothing but mojo misspelled."
What could he have meant by that? Ralph had been wondering about it ever since.
He checked the movies available on the flight. Yes, they were showing Repo Man. It was a good sign, and a little nostalgia would do him a world of good.
After he keyed in his movie request, the screen filled with static. Then Smokey Espejo and a strange woman with flat black skin and flaming orange hair, lips, and eyes appeared; she also had a jewel under her lip that blinked with electronic intelligence.
The implant on Smokey's forehead also blinked, but to a faster beat.
"I still live, recombozos and recombozoettes," said Smokey.
"If one of our implants can save Smokey . . . think what they can do for you," said the O.I. woman.
"Take it from a very satisfied customer," he said.
"So when Outlaw Implants makes contact with you," she said, "be ready."
Ralph took another deep breath. Then coughed again.
*
Phoebe and Caldonia strolled, arms around each other's waists, down Sunset Boulevard, into the smog-enhanced sunset. All the costumed Dead Daze revelers were gone, replaced with vendors selling Smokey Espejo memorabilia: T-shirts, watches, instaprint tattoos, posters, jewelry.
"How'd they come up with all this shit so fast?" asked Caldonia. "It's like it was spontaneously generated or something."
"Do you think I'd look good with a Smokey earring?" asked Phoebe.
Caldonia leaned over and bit Phoebe's ear.
"Ouch! Chingow!" Phoebe complained. "What was that for?"
"How can you be so xau-xau, talking about Smokey all the time? Especially when both he and Beto treated you so bad?"
"But Smokey didn't seem anything like Beto," said Phoebe.
"That's because he was possessed," said Caldonia. "But the encounter with the goddesses laid Xochitl's control elements on Smokey, so we won't have to worry about that happening again."
"Too bad, he was so sumato."
"And I don't get anything for saving you from him?"
Phoebe brought her face close to Caldonia's and said, "This is so Hollywood. A real happy ending."
Caldonia gave her a sizzling, wide-screen kiss.
*
Control elements? thought Smokey Espejo Tezcatlipoca. You can't control gods. If you could then we wouldn't be gods!
*
In the Downtown L.A. maglev station, Xochitl was being paged. She made her way through the crowd and vendors selling Smokey Espejo trinkets.
Tezcatlipoca appeared on the courtesy phone, and said in perfect Mexico City Spanish:
"You do this programming-tricksterism well, Xochitlita. It's an interesting game. I'm getting good at it. It's only a matter of time before I figure out a way to get around your control programming. Meanwhile, I'm bringing other gods and goddesses to life here in the mediasphere to keep me company – I haven't seem my brother Quetzalcóatl in ages. We'll play again soon. Reality is the only game worth playing."
"Ay, Dios mío," said Xochitl.
*
Beto no longer knew who he was.
He was on a raft that was woven out of live snakes, floating on an endless ocean, eastward, toward Tlapallán. He was lonely. He wanted to go home.
As if in response to his thoughts, the snakes turned around, started swimming back to the West, to the region of fecundity and life, back to the Earth.
Beto began to remember who he really was.
*
It has been most distressing. The artificial intelligence manifestation of the One True God failed, while a version of a Satanic pag
an god haunts the mediasphere. God must be testing us.
For the meantime, we will have to do research on developing the god-simulating program, and keep up with our manufacturing and distributing of the drug Fun. It finances our organization, and will eventually make believers of all its users.
Like Groucho, or one of those other Marxist brothers once said, "Religion is the opium of the people." And the right drug can become the religion of the people.
May God have mercy on all our souls.
*
Well, what can I say. I am your President, and I have not been honest with you. I have misrepresented myself. I had led you all to believe that I was an afro, but as you can see from these unretouched pictures of me as a child and teenager, I was born a euro.
I never meant to deceive anyone. As an adolescent, like many Americans in our era, I went through a terrible identity crisis. I just couldn't identify with the euro American culture. My soul, I honestly felt, was afro.
In a more primitive time I would have had to settle for being a euro aficionado of afro culture; but luckily this was America in the throes of the revolution in body modification technology. The first melanin-enhancers were available. Also, permanent hair color and texture alterations, and eye-tinting were available. I was so lucky to be living in America during the end of the last century. I wanted to become afro, so I became afro.
Like Smokey Espejo, I am a trimili manifestation of the American Dream.
That's what's so wonderful about America. All things are possible here. We aren't limited by the way things are. Here people can truly become what they want to be. Whatever they want to be.
We are leading the world into a glorious future! We managed to get through Dead Daze in Los Angeles without any major rioting! Sure, there were some minor violent incidents, but that's to be expected when large numbers of diverse types get together. And most of the fatalities were registered gangsters, and they knew the job was dangerous when they took it.
Just as I knew that this job was dangerous when I took it.
I hope you, the peoples of these wonderful United States of America, can find it in your hearts to forgive me. I hope you understand, and will allow me to continue being your President.
*
In his cell in the University of California at Cucamonga Medical Center's psychiatric wing, Beto chanted, "I am Quetzalcóatl, I am Quetzalcóatl, I am Quetzalcóatl . . ."
*
And the laughter of Smokey Espejo Tezcatlipoca crackled throughout the mediasphere.
1991-1997
in the region of Aztlán
from Austin to
El Pueblo del Rio de Nuestra Señora La Reina de Los Angeles