thursday, september 26, 2008:

chicago, case no. 94776: american schoolchildren, not satisfied to distinguish themselves from their boss, agreed to pay a severance package over domestic security legislation. so the kids were told to get off the school bus, where a tall thin man stood in the shadows. something about the tall thin man waiting at the bus stop struck them all as suspicious. there was all that dust on his shoes and then there was that big black duffle bag in his hand. at the man's back was mick jagger and the rest of the rolling stones musing on aging as a tropical storm dumped rain on the gulf coast (many new orleans residents planned parties). scientists, george w. bush, rami mahamid, an attorney general (jim ryan), tom daschle, jean-rene fourtou, and myself all stood and watched the world begin to fall apart that day in chicago. the schoolchildren had told us it was going to happen, and the world responded. hollywood's gadget factories were working overtime, leaving the entertainment industry in a panic over the internet. i turned to the scientists and jean-rene fourtou and said, "someday we'll read the story of a comic genius who was as kind, thoughtful, generous and selfless as he or she was funny. in the meantime, as these two new accounts illustrate with varying success, comedy is not pretty. and genius is pain, if not for the genius then for anyone who happens to be nearby."

and the speakers hanging over the remains of chicago blared drunkenly: "and ladies and gentlemen, friends, let me loosen the big boom, let me invite you to fasten your seat belts because we're about to take off, because it's one thing to call for the guaracha and another thing to see it come."

the tarzan of culture, the superman of culture, the james bond of culture were nowhere to be found. they did not show up to dinner, had not phoned and had not given a shit about our culture. america's schoolchildren were all right. they all continued their streak, and pointed me in the direction of superman and tarzan. they were cruising the elevated train, listening to johnny cash's new album with the angels and smoking dope. harmless.

i continued my search for james bond, stumbling upon the tall thin man from the bus stop. he opened his black duffle bag which contained three different weapons. he told me i would need one of them, and calmly directed me toward the boarded up broken building that bond had recently made home, all while handing me a handgun.

i found james bond on LSD. nervously, with his finger wrapped around the trigger of goldeneye's golden gun, his teeth chattered as he rambled off his latest scientific discovery, "after the cubes...were ingested a startling series of events occurred with marked individual variation. all senses appeared sharpened and brightened; vivid panoramic visual hallucinations of fantastic brightness and depth were experienced as well as hyperacusis (better known as abnormal acuteness of hearing). ouch. senses blended and became diffused so that sounds were felt, colors tasted; and fixed objects pulsated and breathed. depersonalization also occured frequently so that i lost ego identity; i felt i was living with my environment in a feeling of unity with other beings, animals, inanimate objects and the universe in general. my body image was often distorted so that faces, including my own, assumed bizarre proportions and the limbs appeared extraordinarily short or elongated. i was enveloped by a sense of isolation and often was dominated by feelings of paranoia or fear. i would mark that if large doses were to be ingested, confusion and delirium may set in. whatever others may see on LSD, hallucinations are rare. i prefer the term 'consciousness-expanding drugs' rather than 'hallucinogen,' since the experience for the user consists more often in seeing things that are there but hidden."

i tried telling bond, james bond, that the cubes me and george w. bush sold him were placebo and that what he was experiencing was reality, and i warmly welcomed him to thursday, september 26th, 2008.