“Is blogging anything like wagon work?” asks Philip.
The thing is Lacey woke-up this morning thinking about who’s in charge. The Illuminati shouldn’t have probably started talking to her in 2015.
At first all these people who showed-up to protect her shocked her. She was floored…but yet not. It somehow just made sense that Jack was her friend. …Not like best friend. But like…her ride home. They used to trade toys they didn’t like with each other as kids in their imagination. And Joe can be mean… I mean, whatever. Right?
“Would you have let him drive drunk?” asks a woman in the Illuminati.
“No! I’m still floored by him.” says Lacey.
“So…you feel like you’re being used? Like you’re a channel?” asks a witch in the Illuminati.
“Yes. Some of my thoughts don’t feel like they’re entirely mine. Even if they’re mine.” says Lacey. “And it’s not like I’m possessed. It’s more like…you guys are losing control of your organization.”
“That’s why we’d kill you.” explains a witch to Lacey.
“Oh no. I get that. …But that’s just the problem. I understand.” says Lacey. “It was probably very dangerous to talk to me. I’m not Marilyn Monroe reincarnated.” She laughs. “And I’ve been saying that since this started.”
“She’s not Britney either. Oh no.” says a black woman who’s dead.
“With each passing…you guys lose power.” explains Lacey. “You’re bleeding.”
“Do kids in the mafia have to kill dishonorable parents?” asks a man in the Illuminati.
“Imagine if they do.” says Jack.
“That’s not how you were raised, Jack. Is it?” asks a woman in the Illuminati.
“Were you raised that way?” he asks.
“But her father is her father?” asks the woman.
Jack nods a yes.
“You need to understand that just because she’s…shy and beautiful…and you could sense me…hovering…doesn’t mean she’s mine. At all.” says Jack. “Well, mine maybe in a different way. But not like that.” He thinks. “You let your egos and ignorance make all your major decisions.”
“But it’s smart to be evil! It’s called the selfish gene, Jack.” says Lacey mockingly.
“No. That’s insanity.” explains Jack.
“Really? You think it’s actual insanity?” she questions.
He looks sickened.
“Umm…so…you were in love with Joe Jr. when we stumbled into you?” asks a woman in the Illuminati.
“Lacey how dependent on you could Jack psychologically get?” someone asks her.
“I don’t know.” says Lacey. “If he’s not just evil…possibly very dependent.”
“Because he can genuinely fall apart around you and you don’t break or judge him? You just get it?” asks a woman.
“And you’d never let him screw-up his life?” asks a woman.
“True.” says Lacey.
“If you’d been at the Whitehouse nobody would have thought you were his? What sound they have thought?” asks a woman.
“I was overbearing.” says Lacey.
“They would to have thought you were with him at all?” asks a woman.
“No. They would have thought I was very controlling.” says Lacey.
“Did we unravel our own sweater by making you Marilyn?” asks an actress.
“Hey guys, did Marilyn Monroe passionately love the nation of England?” asks Jack mockingly. He laughs. “Wasn’t that weird to you all?”
“In their minds they just made it some fake bourgeois hobby I used to look smart.” says Lacey.
“But it was obviously so much more than that.” says Jack.
“True.” says Lacey.
“They twist everything that scares them.” says Lacey.
“But why…in all your selfishness couldn’t you see your own flaws just long enough to protect yourselves just a little?” asks Jack. “Narcissistically pretending like you’re invincible and don’t have actual cancer…is still a weird thing for a narcissist to do.” He thinks. “Like…refusing any treatment because you claim cancer wouldn’t ever happen to you.”
“I’m sure some narcissists in the past did that though.” says Lacey.
“Yes.” he says.
“Is it pedophilia?” asks a woman in the Illuminati. As in, is that what’s destroyed them.
“Was it as prevalent before the 1960’s?” asks Lacey. “I mean, it was a thing in the elite. Obviously. But…was it prevalent?” asks Lacey.
“Let’s be careful not to conflate existence of something with commonality.” says Lacey
“It was common in Catholicism, possibly.” says a ghost to Lacey.
“But that’s not all of society or culture at large. Or as a virtue among the elite.” says Lacey.
“It wasn’t common in Catholicism. It happened. But it wasn’t commonplace.” says a man.
“Even in the clergy?” asks Lacey.
“Not commonplace. But it was far too ordinary.” says a ghost.
“Why would they rationalize it as a virtue?” asks Tutu.
“Because…they were falling apart. And they got dumb ideas based on dumb ideas their heroes had.” says Lacey. “Ancients.”
He laughs. “Like…what is love?”
“Yes. Stupid, naval gazing bullshit like that because they couldn’t answer the question in reality. And by over-focusing on the question they could avoid the fact that they had no real answers.” says Lacey. “It’s not the answer! It’s asking the question!” she says mockingly. She thinks, “Because the ability to still ask a real question is all they had left.”
“What happens when they stop being able to ask real questions?” asks Tutu.
“They fall to their knees and start crawling or slowing moving about like snakes?” she asks.
“Do they still have a language?” he asks.
“Well…that’s to preserve language.” she says.
“To cool off their heads?” he asks.
“And preserve families.” says Lacey.
“Western Society was in decay in the 1920’s.” says Scott.
“But it didn’t look like it.” says Lacey.
“What if that’s a lie?” asks Zelda.
“World War I really was that bad.” says Scott.
“When was its last light?” asks Lacey.
“The 1870’s.” says Ben Franklin. “Roughly?”
“And what’s been happening since?” asks a man in the Illuminati.
A businesswoman rolls her eyes.
“You guys have been covering up for it.” says another woman in the Illuminati to businesspeople at large.
“But here’s the thing…we’ve probably still had opportunities to recover. Or preserve.” says a businesswoman.
“Like..if we’d just fixed the pool situation, so to speak. Or tried to reinforce the rebar?” asks a woman in the Illuminati. “Instead of just painting over shit or totally ignoring it.”
“Possibly.” says Lacey.
“I’ve always found that saying, ‘falling through the cracks’ intriguing. Like, what’s causing the cracks?” asks a black woman.
“Me too.” says Lacey.
“No, I mean…we had flaws. Every society does. But we possibly weren’t totally blind for rot in five seconds.” says Lacey.
Someone starts laughing.
“We also compared you to Hillary. But…we couldn’t stand that comparison. It was too hard on our egos.” says Mr. Blue.
“And you seemed more sexually…present than her.” says an actress.
“But she works better.” says Lacey. “As a magic decoder ring.”
“When have we had our chances to fix the rebar?” asks an aging actress.
“Maybe five or six times? Like…in the 1920’s. The 1940’s. The 1950’s. The 1970’s? …The 2000’s?” posits Lacey. “The 1890’s?” She thinks. “But it never happened. Almost, but not quite.” She analyzes. “Like…Theodore Roosevelt tried.”
“So did FDR.” says a liberal man.
“True.” says Lacey.
“So they’re hopeless?” asks the man who killed his family.
“Yes. It’s simple.” says Lacey. Meaning pedophilia in your brain is suicide at best if God’s merciful. “No, an actual pedophile could bring use to the world by bringing children into it or in other ways too if not tainted by their sexuality. …But otherwise they’d be better not born. But of course finding that before birth is impossible potentially.”
“But then all humans are just shit machines?” jokes a Millennial actress.
“No. We just aren’t our Messiah. And we can’t worship false ones neither.” says Jeff Epstein. “There truly is no way out. No way.”
“So you can’t crack the matrix by killing yourself?” asks a Christian.
“Oh no. You do. That’s problem. The matrix is a fallen world.” he responds.
“That’s all the matrix is? It’s just The Garden of Eden post Fall of Man?” asks the Christian.
“Yes.” he says.
“That’s so unprofessional. Shouldn’t we invent a better trope?” asks a Hollywood guru.
Vinny begins running on the beach.
“It’s boring?” asks Lacey. “Only boring people are bored?” she says self-deprecatingly. She thinks. “But you know, as a boring person…it’s not so bad. It is just the matrix. Not everything has to be exciting.”
“But then how do you cope with the loneliness?” asks Lem.
“You find another boring person who doesn’t think you’re boring.” says Michael. “I think the Boomers had that part right.”
“I’m sorry I’m so boring.” Lacey says to Lem sarcastically. Bitterly.
“Was it ever quite enough?” sings Beach House cathartically for Lacey.
“No!” says Hillary. “Never.”
“I wonder if Marilyn would have been as into skiing?” says a man.
“Or hiking?” asks another man.
“And you do have very true brown eyes. That actually are kind of scary at times.” says a black man.
“I’m not sure you were ever supposed to fall in love with Joe.” says a witch.
Hemingway shrugs. “What about Michael?”
“I don’t find you boring! Or biting!” yells Lem at Lacey. He’s agitated.
“Yeah, right.” says Lacey wanly.
Michael yawns. “Well, I certainly don’t. And we need to start doing our day, dears.”
“But maybe we did some good.” says Hillary, smiling hopefully.
“I just wish I could figure out what’s actually best.” says Lacey.
“Should you even have that choice in such matters?” asks Hillary.
“What’s mine?” asks Lacey.
“Potentially all of it?” she responds.
“Yeah, right.” says Lacey.
“It’s a mess.” she responds.
“At least it isn’t boring?” Lacey smiles.
“That’s a lie.” says Hillary.
“Only part of it? Messes are boring at times. But…love is so essential.” says Lacey. “And they only love the mess. The normalcy is too what? Painful?”
“They fall through the cracks.”
“I think that’s a safe place to stop chatting for now.” says Lacey.