Sunday, February 06, 2011

Location Hunting

“His arms are like, huge. Their muscle.”
“What are you talking about? Whose arms?”
“That cop's man. That one right over there.”
“That's no cop.”
“Rent-a-cop then.”
“No, that's a bouncer. See that door behind him?”
“But what's he doing here?”
“He's bouncing, I don't know.”
“Is there a club there?”
“Where there's smoke, genius.”
“Yeah but maybe he is a fake bouncer, you know? Like a dude posted up outside a building with nothing inside, just standing there to prank people.”
“What are you thinking for, ape? Take pictures.”
“I'm just sayin', maybe he isn't legitimate.”
“Legitimate? Man, I tell you, muscles like that, he makes his own legit. Thought the Army would've taught you that.”
“I was telling you, the muscles man. Now you agree.”
“I know, I know. I just now got a good look at them though.”
“Hey, hey hey, check it out. There is a group of people coming up the street.”
“Good. Now we can put down this crackpot theory of yours.”
“I'm just saying it is possible.”
“You don't even know what it is that you are saying.”
“Hey, watch.”
“I'm watching, I'm watching. And I'm watching six people walk through a door and some lights flashing inside. Colored lights. Like at a club.”
“I got it. So it's probably a club. But it could've been a fake club.”
“A fake club?”
“Man, that's a stretch. We are getting out of here.”
“Hey, can I pick the radio station?”
“Some people say a man is made outta mud, a poor man's made outta muscle and blood.”
“Oh man, I love this song.”
“Muscle and blood and skin and bones, a mind that's a-weak and a back that's strong.”
“Could you turn it down a bit, I'm driving over here.”
“You load sixteen tons, what do you get?”
“How can you ask me to turn this down?”
“Another day older and deeper in debt.”
“This is a classic man. A classic American tune.”
“Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go.”
“Well that may be, but it's too loud for me driving.”
“I owe my soul to the company store.”
“Alright, alright, I'll turn it down.”
“I was born one mornin' when the sun didn't shine.”
“But let it be said there is a special place in hell—”
“I picked up my shovel and I walked to the mine.”
“—for people who ask to turn down this song man.”
“I loaded sixteen tons of number nine coal.”
“And the straw boss said 'Well, a-bless my soul.'”
“You think that God or whatever likes this particular song so much—”
“You load sixteen tons, what do you get?”
“—that he personally spent his valuable time designing a room in hell—”
“Another day older and deeper in debt.”
“—just for people like me? Who have friends who listen—”
“Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go.”
“—to music too loud while they are trying to do something.”
“I owe my soul to the company store.”
“God is outside of time man.”
“I was born one mornin', it was drizzlin' rain.”
“Well then how come he created it?”
“Fightin' and trouble are my middle name.”
“Created what? Time?”
“I was raised in the canebrake by an ol' mama lion.”
“Yeah. Why did he?”
“Cain't no-a high-toned woman make me walk the line.”
“Man, I do not want to get into this discussion with you right now man.”
“You load sixteen tons, what do you get?”
“Why not man? What's wrong—”
“Another day older and deeper in debt.”
“—with this discussion? You afraid—”
“Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go.”
“—of your spirituality? Turn that—”
“I owe my soul to the company store.”
“—down because right now I am driving. I'm trying—”
“If you see me comin', better step aside.”
“—to keep our sorry asses out of oncoming traffic.”
“A lotta men didn't, a lotta men died.”
“Okay, okay. I get it.”
“One fist of iron, the other of steel, if the right one don't a-get you then the left one will. You load sixteen tons, what do you get?”
“You know what has always struck me funny about the radio?”
“Another day older and deeper in debt.”
“No, what?”
“Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go.”
“That's a dead man singing.”
“I owe my soul to the company store.”
“So what?”
“So that is a dead man singing and neither of us find it odd. This is an invention that is new within the last hundred, hundred-fifty years and nobody even bats an eye while we roll around on tyres made from trees, in carriages made from metals that were designed to protect people in space, at speeds that ancient people only got to when they were about to die, and all of it to the accompanying tones of one Tenessee Ernie Ford. A dead man. A man who has been dead for years. But you can sit over there and get all excited—”
“Make the world go away.”
“—today, years after this showboat has been buried—”
“And get it off my shoulders.”
“—as his skull is being cleaned out by worms—”
“Say the things you used to say.”
“—we can sit here and listen to a man singing—”
“And make the world go away.”
“—from literally beyond the grave.”
“Do you remember when you loved me?”
“I'm saying that is weird. That—”
“Before the world took me astray.”
“—is seriously strange. Not some stupid bouncer.”
“If you do then forgive me.”
“But maybe he wasn't a bouncer.”
“And make the world go away.”
“Get off that bouncer man.”
“I'm sorry if I hurt you.”
“I'm just saying.”
“I'll make it up, day by day.”
“Stop talking now. I'm listening to dead men.”
“Just say you love me like you used to, and make the world go away. Just say you love me like you used to, and make the world go away.”


Apologies to William Gibson.

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