Disdain

“What’s up with your disdain for those in a lower social class than you?” asks a middle class woman who has hated Lacey.

“Well first of all social class and financial resources are two different things. And I cannot, these days, seemingly repeat that enough.” says Lacey. “You seem middle class in every way?”

“Yes!” she says.

“Then traditionally you’re not the type of person who I’ve found annoying.” says Lacey.

The woman looks nervous.

Very nervous.

“We were collectively manipulated into thinking you hated us? Or it feels like that.” she says.

“I haven’t had any beef with you all until recently.” says Lacey.

“Who bothers you then?” she asks.

“Vain people.” says Lacey. “And they turn around and call me vain. As a narcissistic reflex. But I’m fairly certain they are, unfortunately.” she says.

“So your contention is this: I’m me. And if that’s an upper-class person from relatively old-money what difference does it make?” asks the true middle-class woman. “Lacey, I’m starting to feel like these people are freaks of nature and they’re using your empathy for them to hide that.”

“They act like it. Shaking their deranged asses everywhere these days and demanding to be worshipped.” says Lacey.

“Or other sexual body parts.” says a middle-class man.

“It’s funny isn’t it? But then when they can’t get omnipotence or the grandeur of ancient kings that way they start weaponizing our natural instinct to love our kids in a non-sexual, non-pedophilic way. I’ll reiterate it: they use the natural instinct to be a good, normal parent against us.” says Lacey.

“Because they’re essentially like criminal retards.” says a middle-class woman.

“Yes. It’s funny until it isn’t.” says Lacey.

“But you’re laughing until it isn’t funny in a way that’s amused by human stupidity in general. Including your own.” says an Englishman.

“Yes! I don’t take myself seriously the way a narcissist does.” says Lacey.

“They can’t see the humor in our situation.” the Englishman says. “To them it’s obvious there is no God who loves them in a non-sexual way. At their core. One way or another.” He smiles. “So to them each ass shake is a matter of profound significance.”

“And when they intellectually lose they resort to even greater idiotic arguments to win.” says Lacey. “Until it’s funny again.”

“Yes, because the acceptance of possible absolute truth is a sticky wicket for these folks. Unfortunately for them.” he says.

“It boggles their minds.” says Lacey.

“I’m an atheist but I will privately admit I’m more agnostic than atheist.” says a public intellectual. “Our egos are useful. But it’s this…actual sort of spiritual alchemy of the cross that redeems the hopelessly flawed nature of our beings. As humans.” He thinks. “It’s like having a conscience but a conscience that’s reborn.”

“That’s not too far off, I don’t think.” says Lacey.

“So…I could be a billionaire and possibly be in a lower social class than you?” he asks Lacey.

“Yes!” she responds.

He smiles.

“And theoretically…a billionaire could be in a lower social class than me, even.” says the middle-class woman. “They could actually be lower middle-class or the awful, but commonly labeled, white trash.”

The atheist chuckles.

“So…that’s why the loudest hater hated you. Because she always thought she had the chance to be upper-class in every way if she just got the money. It was all about the money. …But turns out it’s not…seemingly. So…”. This living middle-class woman shrugs. “She was never going to be you. Ever. Or me even possibly. Because she seems poor and spoiled to me. …But…that was too much for her to psychologically handle because that’s why she exists? Or why she wears perfume. To be more elite. So…you really, really burst her bubble.” The woman sighs. “And sadly, there could be millionaires who are in a possible secret organization who had the same sad delusion.”

“And no, it’s not about imitation.” says Lacey.

“The Hindus have been fighting based on your observation for centuries. To them-Their native religion is based on this.” says an Indian man.

“I know.” says Lacey.

“There are elements of the Japanese wisdom in her beliefs too.” says a Japanese man.

“So it’s like a Brahmin uprising.” says the Indian man. “True Brahmin.” He thinks. “Possibly both dead and alive.”

Silence.

“Do you think you’re better than the evil people?” asks the Indian.

“No. And that’s the misery of it. It’s like they’re in prison in their own brains.” says Lacey.

He cries.

The atheist sighs. “Well, in a way they might be. But the Christian God can at least understand if their spirit is stronger than their flesh.” He smiles.

“Do you think we’re born into our proper station, based on our being’s state?” the middle-class woman asks Lacey.

“I worry that thats true. Worry.” says Lacey. “But…I think it’s more likely something else far more complicated.”

“And it’s scary. Because we really are the ignorant bullies in your case.” a perfume hater says to Lacey.

“And she’s not Marilyn Monroe seemingly, and she’s definitely not a pedophile.” says the Illuminati hater.

“So it’s like…what if we are stuck in poverty because we can’t handle truth?” asks the loudest perfume hater.

“It’s like you deny it, but your true poverty is spiritual.” says the Indian man to the loudest perfume hater.

“Oops.” says a female Illuminati hater.

“It’s Christ that transforms us.” says Lacey as if she’s imparting actual truth.

“But your Christ is…the actual Son of God?” asks a feminist.

“Yes!” says Lacey.

“And I could try to concoct witchcraft in those words but that’s probably silly. If you don’t mean it that way. And God exists.” she says. “Or maybe just if God exists.”

“Alright! But let’s settle the matter of social class.” says a very wealthy man. “Do you, Lacey, think people couldn’t climb the ladder unintentionally by sincerely worshiping Christ?”

“And letting Him transform you? Yes. But that’s possibly like a literal mental or at least genetic healing, worst case scenario.” says Lacey.

“Worst case scenario for an American.” says an Englishman.

“But that’s why the difference between social class and money matters.” says the atheist.

“Yes!” says Lacey.

“Because it’s like…the money doesn’t overwhelm you in the same way if you’re born better or were raised better.” says the truly middle-class woman.

“Yes! And the dream in the US is to let those secretly born well more easily move upwards.” says Lacey. “To let the noble genetic folks do well.”

“That was possibly the premise.” says Benjamin Franklin. Possibly.

“To some degree.” says Lem. Possibly.

“Well that’s awkward. Isn’t it. The American Dream actually is inherently classist. But based on the idea that those meant to have money based on their superior genetics should be able to more easily get it.” says an Englishman. “Secretly superior. As in, they weren’t born into it obviously.” He nods. “They call it meritocracy. But really it’s just the idea that social class is different than monetary wealth. Which is actually both British. And Hindu in a way.” He thinks. “But they believed that those societies got it all wrong. And they needed to loosen up the barriers to allow for more movement socially upward. For the genetically wealthy.” He closes his eyes. “That’s so naive.”

“Yes! But it’s also hopeful and practical given the disorganized state of social class they observed in the 1700’s or so.” says Lacey.

“They just missed the historical context, possibly. And lacked a certain respect for England.” he says.

“And maybe they were in the right in a sense. But essentially, possibly, yes. Because back then England was archaic in a way, in their estimation.” she says. “But…how do you totally fix social class troubles?” asks Lacey. “They were possibly very arrogant.”

“And myopic.” he adds.

The loudest perfume hater laughs. “So I could be a billionaire and you’d still find me pretentious and condescending and arrogant and vile at times?”

“Yes, possibly.” says Lacey.

“And so the ugliness really is just trashy?” says a man observing.

“Possibly. As upsetting as I think that is to our 21st Century minds.” says Lacey.

“Why don’t they see it that way?” asks the loudest hater. “That they’re no different than me. And we’re both just imitating our betters.”

“They do. That’s why the Illuminati hater used you. You made him feel more safe in his delusions.” says someone.

“Some of them do.” says Lacey.

“But blessedly thanks to God Europe didn’t totally destroy itself before the invention of America.” says a Catholic.

“Do you have disdain for us as people or for our adherence to evil?” asks a millionaire based on the loudest hater’s possible heart. One hopes.

“I have disdain for evil.” says Lacey.

“No!!! It’s us!! You hate us! And you’re going to be defeated! And you’re ugly!” says a hater to Lacey.

“I don’t hate you as people. I hate evil.” says Lacey.

“No! You think you’re a billionaire with a private jet that flies out of your expensive perfume cabinet.” says a hater.

“Do I?” asks Lacey. “I’m not sure that that’s true. But do tell me more.”

“You think you’re Superman. But JFK was the actual Superman!” says another man. In his heart. He’s in his 30’s.

“I don’t think I think I’m Superman.” says Lacey.

“But Lem was Robin. And Robin has to end-up with Batman or it ruins the story!” he says emphatically.

“Does it?” asks Lacey sincerely.

“Are we absolutely sure Lem was Robin?” asks an Englishman.

They think. “Isn’t that gospel?”

“As in Christianity?” asks the Englishman.

“Sort of. It’s like an allegory. And-“

“That’s not-Are you sure Lem was gay?” asks an Englishman.

One man starts to cry. “But if he’s not gay he leaves our team. And we’re a team!” Then they all start to cry.

“Can Lem be on our team?” asks a lesbian.

“We’re suspicious of your team. But maybe.” says a gay man.

“So you own Lem?” asks a bisexual woman.

“We pay his salary! And everyone has to eat!” says the supposedly gay man.

“But sweetheart he’s dead.” says a psychic.

“Then how can I channel him? My spirit tells me it’s him. I’m Catholic.” he says.

A psychic looks at Lacey. “Does the spirit of Lem say he’s gay?”

“He won’t talk to me. I think he’s being loyal to Jack!” he says.

“But what if he’d tell you he’s not gay?” asks the psychic.

“Then I’m Catholic and I shouldn’t be here!” he says.

“Okay. Then as an adult work that out with God.” says the psychic.

Silence.

“Umm…Lacey…what are you afraid of? What evil in your heart are you afraid of?” the psychic asks.

“I don’t know. I’m trying to work it out. But I keep getting interrupted.” she says. “People want to insist it’s some sin I don’t have. And that’s insulting but also chaos inducing and very irritating.”

“So essentially we’ve only allowed you to be asexual and prim?” asks a Millennial of Lacey.

A genuinely bisexual woman laughs. “No, I really do like men. Sometimes more than most if not all women.” she shrugs. “And…while I do qualify as bisexual…I think if Lacey’s other half was bisexual…or Lem…we intellectually can’t grasp it.”

A psychic nods. “And that could be why we struggle to grasp Lacey. But…what is her sin?”

“So assuming God can appear to Lacey as the best Englishman who’s ever existed and better, why is her out-of-time alliance for eternity with Lem, Michael, Louis or Harold so…troubling? Is that it?” asks an Englishman. “While she’s alive.”

Another Englishman raises his hand, “Because Lacey, we think we’re superior to everyone.”

“Why do we think that?” asks Lacey.

The man wants to cry. “Because maybe we really are that genuinely loving. And we see it in each other but never in all the others.”

“At our core.” says Lacey.

“We have done some egregious things over the centuries.” the Englishman admits. “But…I worry we pay to exist.” He shocks himself. “If you were a British Aristocrat who lived in the late 1800’s maybe your pain is attempt at restitution.”

Silence.

If. Or if reincarnation was or is impossible possible you represent someone who loved the country just that much.” he adds.

“So God might understand a love of culture to that degree.” ponders a Christian who isn’t English.

“So in a sense this whole life is like Purgatory for you if reincarnation is possible?” asks an Episcopalian.

“That would be the theoretical idea, possibly.” says Lacey.

“You would have had to really love England. Profoundly.” he says. He smiles.

“Yes!” says Lacey.

“You’re definitely buried here if this is true.” he says. He thinks. “And it’d be Christianity.”

“If it’s possible at all, then yes. But don’t use that as an evil weapon.” says Lacey.

“And possibly either Lem or Michael are buried here too?” he says. “Or we’ll see.”

Silence.

“What is your problem then?” he asks.

“I don’t know.” says Lacey. Exasperated.

“Can you help her?” a bisexual woman asks the loudest perfume hater.

“Lacey I think Joe can’t stand how much you love England.” the man adds. “Should that be a thing, so to speak.”

“The problem is, I can’t bow to evil. So…if you’re just evil I can’t empathize. It’s necessary for it to be human weakness.” says Lacey.

“Except didn’t you vainly think you were better than other people with your big condo and your sublimely elegant manners?” asks a hater of Lacey.

“No!” says an Englishman.

“It’s not an act. So I’m not aware of it as I’m doing it.” says Lacey.

“But you put on a quasi-British accent!!” objects a perfume hater.

“Yes! Because it comforts me.” says Lacey. “Sometimes to mock myself or stuffy people. Other times to plead with God for His mercy. But mostly to comfort myself.”

“Because under Queen Elizabeth II the Church of England stood for objective truth.” says a man.

“Publicly. And that matters.” says Lacey.

“Well if you want to believe that!” says a wealthy but not particularly old-money Englishwoman, rolling her eyes and insinuating Lacey is poor, lying and vain. She begins to shake her behind and look grotesque spiritually. But then she finds herself silly. And smiles.

“I don’t think you…accounted for the oil.” says an Englishman to Lacey. “Should reincarnation be true, so to speak.”

“What difference does the oil make?” wonders Lacey.

“In what way?” asks a ghost, kindly.

“To her ego!” says the loudest perfume hater.

“Oh no, it’s the opposite of that. She doesn’t see what you see, at all.” says a hater.

“So your manners haven’t changed at all since your family got more money from oil?” asks the loudest perfume hater of Lacey.

“No. I’m less refined. And angrier.” says Lacey. “More crass, if anything.”

“But you appreciate the money!” says another perfume hater.

“So we’re just insulting ourselves by insulting you in regard to your superiority. Or insulting actresses who aren’t you who we’ve stupidly compared you to to feel superior.” another perfume hater cringes.

“So where is her sin then?” asks a frustrated psychic.

“I think you really think…you’re better as a human.” says the loudest perfume hater.

“It’s not me and my huge condo. It’s possibly you raping cats. That’s what would make me wonder if you’re going to Hell. In which case you might be inferior cosmically speaking. Depending on the state of grace you’re in with God.” says Lacey. “If you use cats for sexual purposes to arouse deranged men then you’re not allowing yourself to be human but insisting on being a force of evil defiant to your atomic structure?” She thinks. “You’re possibly nothing more than a smelly fart not a human in Heaven if you thoroughly and truly reject God.” Lacey thinks. “I’m sure God will straighten things out with those cats should you exist after you die if you’re human at all. If you’re not a retarded woman possessed by a demon smarter than you.” Lacey thinks. “And should you be a retarded woman I apologize to that retarded woman if she has a redeemable soul, or even redeemed soul.”

“So we might be totally delusional to think you have vanity?” wonders a hater.

“And smelly farts may be primarily an Earth thing.” says a conservative.

“What is it I was doing that seemed vain?” asks Lacey, embarrassed if she was being obnoxious.

“I think you got in with the wrong crowd.” jokes a feminist to Lacey.

“We feel we are deranged for being queer and we’re poor so we found her psychotic, evil rape…justified in our overall cause to demolish you.” says a perfume hater to Lacey.

“We feel not socially superior enough. So we had to use her to attack you vicariously.” they all admit.

“Except…just like she might, tragically, not realize that her cats don’t want to arouse her physically for deranged men watching on Instagram…she might also not have had much real insight into your actuality either.” a perfume hater observes.

“You’re still hoping that should the sick things she cultivated intentionally or not be her choice that she’ll repent. Repent regardless.” says an Englishman.

“But you can’t be Jesus, Lacey.” says another Englishman.

“But then what sin can I repent of?” she asks.

“Were you trying to relate by showing-off? Because you thought it was like drinking coffee and swearing occasionally?” asks an Englishman.

“Possibly. And I indulged in a little pride.” says Lacey. “Possibly vanity. Or possibly just pride. God knows.”

“The problem is you’re not necessarily prideful or vain at all.” says a perfume hater.

“Your mannerisms do seem superior.” says a perfume hater to Lacey.

“How so?” asks Lacey.

“Which ones aren’t in imitation of the bourgeois?” he asks.

“I wouldn’t know.” she says. “That’s the problem.”

“Your faith isn’t bourgeois. Is it?” he asks.

“No. It isn’t at all.” says Lacey. “At least, I doubt I’d try to be relatable in regard to my faith.”

“Because your faith is real?” he asks.

“That’s such an offensive question I can barely stand to accept that you said it. But yes, of course it is.” says Lacey.

“And your superior intelligence is real too.” says a hater.

“You sound like a British ideal.” says a hater to Lacey.

“Okay. So you’re the point of the Balenciaga ads. Those kids grow-up in the best case scenario and become a deadly force for God and rip apart the demonically possessed adults who barely had working brains at all. And we’re too dumb to realize that. …Balenciaga is committing suicide. Or testing to see how useless the peasants actually are.” wonders a hater. “They’re testing us to see if we’re heartless zombies or human.”

“Like to see if we’ll notice. Because based on their observations through Lacey they’ve seen our worst side.” says a perfume hater who somehow is hoping to still attack Lacey with tomato soup. “Because they know you and Michael, possibly.”

“And we look like deranged idiots.” says a perfume hater.

“Well if there’s any good intentions on their part, I applaud that.” says a perfume hater.

“And I suppose we can’t convince you to become more of an impoverished aristocrat than you are.” says a perfume hater.

“No. It isn’t safe.” says Lacey.

“Like literally?” asks a perfume hater.

“I’d guess that.” says Lacey.

“So it’s already burdensome. But she’s handling it.” says Babe.

“The thing is…you aren’t answering my questions.” says Lacey.

“It was like when you’d make a video and go, ‘Here’s this!’ and showcase your Chanel bottles like they were prizes on Wheel of Fortune.” says the loudest perfume hater.

“I never did that.” says Lacey.

“I know!” she responds.

“Do you really know that or did you imagine it actually happened?” asks Lacey.

“I imagined it happened but I know my brain is weird.” she says pitifully.

“I’m not sure you fully do. But no, I never did that.” says Lacey.

“And you never gossiped?” asks another hater accusatorially.

“It truly depends on your definition and my definition of gossip.” says Lacey. “If you believe in suppressing truth to hide your ugliness then no. Hopefully not.”

“So your idea of telling the truth is outing a hateful bourgeois man who cons people into being intimidated by him…by pretending he’s royalty.” scoffs an Asian hater who thinks that’s evil or wants to sell it that way.

A bourgeois hater in the US laughs.

“Did you act like she was a peasant compared to you and your friends?” asks the loudest perfume hater.

“She asked me what food I ate. And I suspect it was to try to embarrass me.” says Lacey.

“Yeah. And you shop at Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods.” says the loudest perfume hater to Lacey repulsed by the stupidity herself. “Sweetie, your family are impoverished peasants compared to Lacey. Attempted bourgeois at best. And I doubt you know anyone even remotely as wealthy or aristicratic or old money as they are.”

“Hoe! You’re supposed to be on my side!” the Asian hater protests.

“And you are confused?” asks a perfume hater of Lacey.

“Yes! I might be.” says Lacey.

“Why did you ship with paper towels?!” asks a hater of Lacey.

“Why not?” asks Lacey.

“Because that’s…wasteful!” says an Englishman who collected perfume.

“But I prefer it to plastic.” says Lacey. “And we’re too poor to quickly gather paper shipping paper.”

“Because you don’t have a personal assistant to go buy things for you at a moments notice?” asks a bourgeois hater.

“We don’t have live-maids.” says Lacey.

“So these people hyper analyzed everything in order to lie to themselves not find the truth. And then every time when confronted by the truth they cling to the false truth.” says a hater.

“Okay. So we have an addiction. We aren’t collectors. And you had more of our product. And we got addict-rage. Narcissistic lies.” says a hater.

“It was for petty reasons like simple envy. We might be bringing class insecurity into it. Or did. But…it was repulsively simple and petty.” says the Asian hater.

Lacey is disgusted by that possibility.

“Why?” asks a hater.

“It just makes me feel incredibly alone.” says Lacey.

“Do you want us to kill the evil ones?” asks Michael of the perfume community.

“I’d say, be careful. And honestly…not everyone in the legume community should be there.” says another perfume hater.

“The legume community?” asks Lacey.

“If they can’t refrain from starting wars with their malicious jealousy of bottles of Chanel No. 5.” she responds. “Or 45. Or 22. Or 9. Or 19. “