I.V. Chanson Du Toreador plays.
Does Lacey really sleep with ghosts?!? That’s what she was blabbing on about last night. …And one wonders…how does Lacey talk to all these people not seemingly physically present?
Entry Of The Gods Into Valhalla by Wagner plays.
She partially imagines it? Or so she partially thinks… Ever since the Illuminati and her saw each other very weird things have been happening to her. It’s been like a spiritual door opened and nothing is normal. At times the Illuminati tells her that their psychics find her unusual. Some think she really is somewhat dead. The first year or two of them communicating with her they spent a great deal of time shouting at her telepathically, “Are you dead or alive?” Or they’d ask, “Where are you?!” She found that utterly terrifying. She guessed that that was their desired effect, but in the last year or two she’s realized they also may have been somewhat physically puzzled.
No matter. Lem Billings and Louis and Elliott are not her spirit guides.
“No.” says a dead queen in agreement with that.
But what they are are…her friends?
Sadko by Rimsky-Korsakov as played by the Armenian Philharmonic Orchestra plays.
“Does it matter which orchestra plays it?” asks Lem.
“Yes.” says Lacey. “Of course.” She thinks. “I’ve heard Sadko played by many other orchestras and the Armenian Philharmonic Orchestra plays it most…authentically.”
“How so?” he asks.
“It’s a very moving song. It can be played too emotively. Too perfectly. It sounds precious. The Armenian Philharmonic Orchestra leaves it raw.” She thinks. “It sounds like the tone of Fitzgerald and not Disney when they play it.”
“It sounds like it was intended to sound.” says Lem.
“Possibly?” says Lacey.
Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 blows in. Those haunting first lines begin.
“Anyway, we ruined your relationship with Joe Jr..” the Illuminati says to Lacey.
“It seems likely?” says Lacey.
“We’re wondering if you would have been as interested in Pat Wilson if we hadn’t pushed that idea onto Lacey.” asks Mr. Blue.
“Wait! What?!?” asks a psychic reading.
“This is why you guys don’t make any sense!” says a Christian friend of the charismatic to the Illuminati. “Let me ask you this: Why did you attack Lacey like that? Was it an ego trip for you all to mess with her like that?!” He fumes. “See…I think, in once way, that you guys are too tainted by atheism to understand what you’re messing with spiritually. And you’re all so pampered and vain and rich. You’re all disconnected from reality. You don’t get that your perversions sexually are repulsive to the common person who still has any sense for one thing. …And you lack the ability to see how you can’t control things bigger than yourselves, because you all must feel so immense given your powers both physically and spiritually.” He thinks. “I’d say, ‘Be more careful next time.’ But there is no next time.” He fumes. “This is reality.”
“Maybe we don’t exist and she’s just imagined us?” says a narcissistic member of the Illuminati as a reflex.
“What the flip did you guys do?!” asks another psychic of the Illuminati.
The Dumbledores plays.
Alexandre Desplat plays on.
Grizzly Bear interrupts. Gun-Shy starts.
“They stole her from us.” says JFK.
“All those years leaving me here…” the song sings.
“How, Jack?” asks a psychic.
“She was in love with my brother. But they couldn’t stand it.” he says.
“And then what?!” asks the psychic.
“They told her she wasn’t as lovable or internally beautiful or good as Pat Wilson.” says JFK. “They told her that he had loved Pat Wilson more than anyone. They convinced her that they were twin flames, so to speak.”
“They know that she researches everything. So they suggested Pat Wilson was the winner for eternity telepathically first in casual conversation. …And then they manifested comments and articles to prove to Lacey that it was a lost cause. I say manifested because it wasn’t honest. The spiritual abuse they committed and the way they tinted reality to force their perspective was a cheat.” says James Roosevelt.
“And why did they do it?” asks the psychic.
“Because they wanted freedom. Freedom from the oppression of the old money elite.” says a dead NBC-sitcom-gay-man. “Whether I’m gay or not now.”
“And I love the old money elite.” says a man in a country far away.
“Why?” asks Lacey.
An Asian man laughs, respectfully.
“Because they make sense still. They still think.” he responds. “They still care about Christ. They still have the ability to be free.”
“And what do we have?!” asks a charismatic of Lutin.
“Poverty, unemployment, drugs, and dreams of the End Times.” says Mr. Lutin.
“Did they manifest that for us?” asks a psychic.
“It’s all a joke? Right?!” asks Tommy Banks of the Illuminati.
“That’s what they told me back in 2015. ‘It’s a joke!’ Like I was the ugly weirdo who had sat at the cool-kid table of lovable, elite, misfits. Brainiac demi-gods.” says Lacey. “Like they were all in on some cruel cool-kid joke to mock me, a sheeple poser compared to them. Then with their meager millions and Ivy League degrees.” She thinks. “Shaking their asses. Screwing each other to survive. Wearing pretentious clothes. Using pretentious language. Hoping their endless hours of work would make them something meaningful to someone who matters. Ignorant of their needs as humans. Absolute fools.”
“You found Lacey…and then shat in her face.” says a psychic to the Illuminati. She giggles. It’s a good morning. Yes. …It’s a good morning. “Why did you suddenly decide Jackie Kennedy had to be ugly? That’s related to Lacey too isn’t it?” She cackles. “And then the graffiti?! …Because you can’t be the Kennedy’s. So now they’re even more dead. …And now we have to hear over and over on Tik Tok that Jackie is ugly?! Why?! Because all you have is cheap shit money. Cheap…plastic shit…hoe-bag money.”
A group of witches in Salem are pissed off.
Zombie by The Cranberries plays.
“And then Lem had to be gay?!” asks a Salem witch. “Why? Because Tucker won’t screw your ass tonight?”
“I’m willing to be wrong.” says a Salem witch to the Illuminati. “Why don’t you people ever want to be wrong?” She thinks. “Because you can’t be? Because you can’t be? …Why not?!”
Gilded Lily plays.
“She had no hope.” says Joe to the Illuminati about his relationship with Lacey. “You destroyed our love.”
“And now you think you can convince her Lem is and was a homosexual?!” scoffs the Salem witch. “Somehow she just knows that that’s bullshit.” She thinks. “Why don’t you all ever stop to ask why?” She thinks. “You can’t impersonate her forever. Listen to your dead cohort. He’s telling you the truth about yourselves.” She giggles. “It’s not safe to mess with certain things. At least not to the extent you have and continue to want to.” She pauses. “You’re all like spoiled, idiot, evil teenagers.”
“They derisively called me a literal teenager in 2016.” says Lacey. “Batgirl III.”
“And it’s not schizophrenia? Huh. Do they attack schizophrenics?” asks a psychic.
“Yes. They bully them for fun. Schizophrenics are often on a similar spiritual wavelength to drug users?” wonders Lacey. “They understand things about the human brain and keep them a secret, should they exist.”
“Old-School Bootleggers!!!” yells Joe Jr..
“No one really reads my blog.” says Lacey. “And everyone already knows all of this anyway. It’s a pretentious joke at this point.”
“I think their password was leaked.” jokes a Millennial.
“See the problem is…she’s been forced to rely on the God of the Bible. And you’ve been lying and molesting kids to get spiritual power. And…yet you think that with your cheap shit you can still win?!” asks a nun. “And Satan finds y’all hilarious.”
Satan shakes his ass. Dances to Breathe Deeper.
Satan loves Breathe Deeper. Of course when he sings it, he’s lying. But to the damned tortured by it and the living fools who rely on him…it’s not funny. Actually, it’s funny but not. It’s like he’s a lovable animated character to them? Except that’s a lie…but…they refuse to believe that it’s a lie or it’s too late.
“What about God’s grace?” asks the charismatic. “What about God’s love?”
“Fine! She’s not like you. But you are!” Batgirl III yells at the charismatic. “We eat people like you for breakfast. We use you.”
Lonely Life plays.
“No! No! No you don’t! We use you!” the charismatic shouts back at Batgirl III.
“Right. You…are…clueless.” says Batgirl III.
Keep On plays.
“He doesn’t care.” says Lacey.
“Bangin’ my head against the wall.” sings Joe Jr..
“Grow-up. Be a winner!” says Batgirl III to the charismatic.
“She’s right. I don’t care. Watch me not care!” he says.
Dollar by Electric Guest plays.
“Watch me not care! In 1…2…3.” he says.
“You do care.” says Mr. Blue to The Charismatic.
The Charismatic refuses to respond. He feels that he’s too dang cool. Like…for real cool.
“Fine. He doesn’t care. All the better for us.” says the Satanic set in the Illuminati.
“That’s not true.” says Lacey. “Y’all are dysfunctional.”
“You’re right.” says Batgirl III that to Lacey.
“Too much not caring doesn’t work.” she says. “And you can’t manufacture real love.”
“Isn’t that the truth.” says JFK. “It’s funny how if I was gay I loved Lem. Or Rip. Or maybe Red. But…nobody ever says that. And…instead they go on and on and on and on about how many women I fucked but didn’t love.” He says. “Because I was heartless. Supposedly. Not just a narcissistic fool.” He thinks. “And you don’t think it’s beautiful and better if Lem couldn’t even love me? After all the pain I caused?” He thinks. “Why not? Isn’t it poetically beautiful? Isn’t that more loving for me? More beautiful? More sad? More…real?!” He thinks. “You can’t handle it?” He thinks. “What if that photo of me holding a man and looking at him fondly is of me and Rip?!” He thinks. “Rip.” He thinks. “And it’s possible it’s just derangement. But…let’s say I thought I could love a man? As a fool…who did I actually love and who loved me and who was I ever capable of being fooled into thinking I was truly one with?” He thinks. “Another man who genuinely felt the same. And who really understood me. Not just thought he did.” he thinks. “Scott and Lacey are helping me explain. Please listen wisely.”
“It’s all just a joke right?” asks Lacey.
White & Nerdy plays. Michael, Lem, Louis and Harold laugh.
“Good ol’ Al!” says Mrs. Hill.
“That song is creepy.” says Lacey. And in that fear of God and realization of Michael’s strength as displayed by Al Capone, as well as the others…she feels things are more normal. Because going through what she’s gone through has been totally inappropriate. It’s made God look foolish and that’s a lie.