What If

The Trip by Still Corners plays.

Can a country be a force for good in the world? I certainly like to think so.

The great nation of Great Britain is a possibility. It has a church. The Church of England. And as corrupt or vile as it may be or have been…the truth remains. The cross of Christ remains held forth like a beacon of true hope. The only true hope humankind has ever had.

And our foundations matter.

What was the United States founded on?

Christians have been saying it was founded on Judeo-Christian principles for decades. But…with the separation of Church and State it’s not quite like England.

“To its detriment.” says a Lutin. “I understand it was meant to protect everyone. The leaders and the people.” He thinks. “But you have no way.”

“No ground to stand on.” says Lacey. “No deeper meaning and comfort. No clearly provided strength and stay.”

“Not like the British.” says a Lutin.

Sodus by Cemeteries plays.

Both Lacey and a man with a great deal of actual authority and power sit and ponder. They ponder the horrific nature of our tremendous world.

“It’s easier to ponder things well when you have a clear conscience.” says a Putin.

“But that requires faith in God.” says Lacey.

“Which I have.” he says.

“Do you free your people’s minds to worship Christ without shame?” asks Lacey.

“I hope so.” he says.

“We have so much shame here. So much intellectual shame.” says Lacey. “You’re considered to be of lesser status as a human if you’re a fervent Christian.”

“Which is sad, isn’t it?” he responds.

“It’s disgusting. The separation of Church and State was a lovely idea in a way. But…it doesn’t allow for the power of culture.” says Lacey.

He nods his head in agreement.

“People create traditions. Culture. And it’s its own thing. A country isn’t just laws and citizens. It’s traditions.” says Lacey.

“Like Great Britain?” he asks.

“Yes.” says Lacey, sadly. “We’ve been so disrespectful to them. Perhaps out of respect for our Founding Fathers who created the country and fought them off. But…they deserve so much more.” says Lacey.

“You have no way.” he says.

“We’ve created a pseudo-atheist, repressive world society where I’m too afraid to say that out of fear of being killed someday.” says Lacey.

“Yes! By the They Thought Police.” says Putin.

“They shun you if you’re at all sincere. And if you disagree they threaten your life.” says Lacey. “They pretend to be progressive. They violently shun dissidents. They act on behalf of the Cross of Christ for the purposes of whatever they decide is just.”

“Kind of like the Anti-Christ.” says Putin laughing.

Lacey laughs. “Yes. And if you “threaten Their rights” you’re the scum of the Earth.”

“‘Their rights?’” he says.

“Yes! Minority rights. …To a certain extent. Not…in a loving Christian way.” says Lacey. “Oh no! Not all that love bullshit for old farts! No! …The rough, tough TRUTH!” she says sarcastically.

“What’s the rough, tough TRUTH?!” asks a Putin.

Feel It All Around by Washed Out plays.

“Listen, the establishment…has decided that all that so-called ‘Modernist’ junk is outdated. Outmoded. Soo uncool.” Lacey thinks. “I’m not hip to the so-called newest intellectual lingo. All the coolest findings of the establishment. Sorry.” She thinks. “I don’t have my NBTBTSQO degree. But…I do…think.”

“And unfortunately for them you’re not a babbling, egotistical idiot.” says a Putin.

“That’s a staggering compliment.” says Lacey.

He smiles.

“It’s always TO THE FUTURE!! …We’re a cult.” says Lacey. “What even is the future? It’s an old concept of time. Nothing hip and postmodern. Or post-post-postmodern. Is it post-truth?” She smiles. “It’s an old concept. Could a concept be old and new? Are we progressing forward? What is the future?”

“You’re being silly.” says a Putin.

“Yes, you know that. They don’t. And that’s scary.” says Lacey. “They’re too focused on proving me meaningless. Making God a dirty word. And controllingnothing.”

“Controlling their ego that they project on you.” says a Putin.

“Yes. There’s no room for my actual thoughts and there never has been. And there’s no rational reason why. It’s just all calculated bullshit.” says Lacey.

“Which is why you got bullied out of going into politics.” says a Putin.

“Yes. It was odd. It did feel spiritual.” says Lacey.

“Yeah whatever! She’s a whore! An idiot whore!!!” yells The Loudest Perfume Hater loudly in her spirit.

“Why an idiot whore?” asks a Pete.

The Loudest Perfume Hater laughs like she’s in an inside joke with whoever this a Pete guy is.

Other People by Beach House plays. It’s from the old British Empire dedicated to the US Colony.

“Remember all the great times, babe? Kinda makes you think, huh?” says England in 1793.

I Will Run From You by Cemeteries plays.

“Because she’s cheap! She…buys expensive stuff. But it’s…still shitty and cheap. Because…it’s not mine!” says The Loudest Perfume Hater. “I am…God, I think.”

“So the minute you buy something it’s transformed into something supernatural?” asks a man of The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“Oh! Oh, that makes sense.” says a Native American woman.

“So American greed takes on a religious dimension because it’s our…”future.” It’s our Manifest Destiny. It’s…us.” says the man. “We worship with our money. Money is our sacred.”

“Sounds like you’ve been listening to me.” says Lacey to the man.

“Yes! But because I have better sacred channels I have more respect.” he says. “Or…is any of that true? Does it even matter?”

“You’re very charming.” says Lacey. “I hope it’s being taken seriously.”

“Do you feel pressure to not offend me?” asks a Pete.

“Yes!! Enormous pressure. Insane amounts of pressure.” says Lacey.

“See…does everyone else though? I mean, I’m not saying it doesn’t exist. But do they feel it?” he asks.

“You think people are deaf?” asks Lacey.

“Something like that.” he says.

They think.

It’s Not Meant To Be by Tame Impala plays.

“You can’t believe how violent the American conversation has become?” asks a Pete of Lacey.

She thinks. She laughs. “If you’re saying what I think you’re saying that’s…very true.”

Fall In Love by Phantogram plays.

Eric Little prays. (Eric Liddell)

A whirlwind circles over the US.

“You’re not wrong!” says Lord Thirsten Snotgrass with condescension and control in his voice. Him and his ilk grab, and grab and grab at the narrative with violence.

“You think I’m violent?” he asks innocently.

“Yes! Don’t play dumb. You’re very violent. Very condescending. …But in your defense you aren’t unusual. Most professors are like that nowadays. …You are all obsessed with control.” says Lacey. “You’re always challenging some ‘old fart’s’ narrative. Right? But…I’ve read a lot of what you and your ilk write. And it’s never truly convincing on a gut level. It’s always the same 1960’s…let’s fight the war in Vietnam…Boomers are going to rock your world…listen and obey or be raped and murdered…line of reasoning.”

He laughs. He sighs. “The 1960’s did change things…but…we’re not stuck in the 1960’s still…” he says tenderly. Then he thinks. She’s not going to buy the sexual nature of his tone. He’s not Lem Billings or Louis. He recalculates. “You don’t know! You’re not…educated enough to know. I patronized you to get in bed with you.” he says. “I’m a genius professor. Truly. Absolutely brilliant. I patronize all women.”

“Well…can you be bothered to explain in layman’s terms why I’m wrong?” she asks very carefully. (If this is his way of being, thank God they never even kissed. Because they didn’t.)

“Why weren’t not stuck in the 1960’s?” he asks.

“Yes! Please!” says Lacey cheerfully.

He thinks. “Because your argument doesn’t make any sense.” He thinks. “I’m not following your logic. And due to the seriousness of that claim, the responsibility is on you to make a solid argument for your rather…common and ordinary and stupid claim that I’ve already thought of and my best friends forever who are so superior to you have already thought of a billion times in the last five minutes.”

What Did You See by Cemeteries plays.

“You’re best friends forever with the other genius professors?” asks Lacey.

“What’s it to you?! We’re all cool with each other!” he says defiantly.

“Are they nice people?” asks Lacey.

“Yeah!!! …I mean…duh! They’re…like…the brains of society.” he says.

“Huh. Yeah…so…I just kinda thought maybe y’all had gotten stuck in rut. You know? Like…playing the same intellectual shit over and over again.” says Lacey.

“Huh. Like what?” he asks.

“Okay, I’m not in your club. I don’t know all the secret handshakes you guys use. Right? So…pardon me if I’m being annoying, please. But the thing is…you all seem to still be angry at the Greatest Generation intellectually. All their structures and virtues and traditions and the energy at their deepest core…still makes you all get violent. They’re mostly all dead, right? So why do you in the club still get stuck playing cops and robbers with them everywhere everyday?” asks Lacey.

“You think that’s all I do?” he asks, incredulous.

“It’s all I ever hear about, sweetie. It’s in the music. The lyrics. The notes. The clothes. And poor Gen Z does their best to be original and riff off of it. Like…take the concept of Millennial rebellion, because we rebelled by loving vintage…and wear our clothes. At least, that’s what it looks like. But we’re still obsessed with the 1960’s. And I don’t think we truly think time has passed. …So…you and your gang need to consider that if you really are the brains of society.” She thinks. “Why are we still…so excited to be rebelling against the 1950’s?”

“You thinks that’s all we have culturally?” he asks.

“Yup! Uh huh.” she says.

“Did you notice I used the word culturally to describe more than I should have? Or did I? Maybe you used that word correctly and maybe you didn’t? I’ll let you decide because I’m too lazy and scared and bored and entitled and rich to decide myself.” he says.

My Generation by The Who plays.

“This song is all we ever hear.” says Lacey. “Everyday. All day. Constantly.”

Lacey posts the lyrics. For analysis.

“People try to put us d-down (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Just because we get around (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Things they do look awful c-c-cold (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
I hope I die before I get old (talkin’ ’bout my generation)

This is my generation
This is my generation, baby

Why don’t you all f-fade away (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Don’t try to dig what we all s-s-s-say (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
I’m not trying to ’cause a big s-s-sensation (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
I’m just talkin’ ’bout my g-g-g-generation (talkin’ ’bout my generation)

My generation
This is my generation, baby

Why don’t you all f-fade away (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
And don’t try to d-dig what we all s-s-say (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
I’m not trying to ’cause a b-big s-s-sensation (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
I’m just talkin’ ’bout my g-g-generation (talkin’ ’bout my generation)

This is my generation
This is my generation, baby
My my my generation

People try to put us d-down (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Just because we g-g-get around (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Things they do look awful c-c-cold (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Yeah, I hope I die before I get old (talkin’ ’bout my generation)

This is my generation
This is my generation, baby
My my my generation

this is my generation
(Talkin’ ’bout my generation) this is my generation
(Talkin’ ’bout my generation) this is my generation
(Talkin’ ’bout my generation) this is my generation
(Talkin’ ’bout my generation) this is my generation
(Talkin’ ’bout my generation) this is my generation
(Talkin’ ’bout my generation) this is my generation”

“Let’s listen again.” she says.

“This was my guiding light.” says Bernie Madoff. “So to speak.”

“From my perspective he sounds like a psychopath.” says Lacey. “That speech impediment breaks my heart as a mother and then he tells me to go to literal Hell. Tells me he’ll rape me. Kill my husband. And then he changes his mind and decides he can’t be bothered because he’s too important and strung-out and he’ll just cause an earthquake and fade us all out into the sea with total ice-cold, heartless disregard instead.”

“Will he die before he gets old?” asks an Englishwoman.

“Oh! Time is on HIS SIDE. So…who knows? Right?” says Lacey. “Maybe he’s above the concept of time.”

“Does he die?” asks a Boomer.

“Oh! That’s a riveting question you HUGE WINNER.” says Lacey. “You know…what was all this violence about? Vietnam?!?”

“The draft.” says Wobbly. “Now that we took the rich people out of the wars we fight we don’t get the static from the youth.”

“Yeah! So…how’s that moral high-ground going?” asks Lacey.

“Well…we faded out most of our original opposition and we do not allow for new opposition so…who’s counting?” he says.

“Not trying to cause a big sensation!” says Lacey.

She listens to the drums at the end.

“Was he high on uppers?” she asks. “That’s a mess.”

“The Who was British.” says a Brit.

“Well…that’s evil. Isn’t it? England didn’t lose its mind as much as the US.” says Lacey. “So he gave you a voice, so to speak. Stirred the pot, so to speak. But they weren’t stuck being Americans.”

“England was secretly as evil!!!” says a Boomer.

“Not if I’m English.” says Lacey. “Or is that why I have to be an evil, idiot, whore to the they?” She thinks. “What if…I’m not that evil in Christ?”

“Hmm. You know…how much has this song helped you analyze that generation?” asks a Townsend.

“A lot.” says Lacey. “A lot over the years.”

“The who? The they.” says a Millennial.

Toxic by Britney Spears plays.

“Ahh. The Boomer arch nemesis.” says Lacey.

They listen.

“She is…the so-called “Republican Party’s” secret weapon.” says Lacey. “I’ve been mistaken for her. But then thank God they see their mommies in my face and back-off just long enough for me to get away. I’m not this woman. Nor am I a part of her army or the army the actual singer accidentally? represents. …She’s…like…colder than than the Boomers but with very sharp knives. They’re…night owls. They attack by creeping in at night and killing their victims while they’re unconscious.”

Toxic plays again.

“I don’t actually look that much like her.” says Lacey. “I just had blond hair and brown eyes and that’s about it. The rest is actually an insult to both of us.”

“Yeah! Because she’s gonna be mad as heck that she’s being compared to you and you’re fit to be tied because it’s just so stupid for purely objective reasons.” says a black man laughing. “And it’s an insult to her beauty and intelligence and yours.”

“Hey! Elsa Lam here! Why do you all keep making her write, if you exist?” She looks serious. “Because I’d like to just destroy the banking system, yo. For all y’all know I personally picked Silicon.” She smiles. “I’m curious…are you curious why?”

“Is your family safe?” asks Lacey.

“I’m just a captive of Queen Elizabeth I. Like Patty Hearst. …So, tell them I’m fine. But she’s mad at the US banking system.” she says.

“Why Silicon?” asks a Boomer.

“Because I liked their credentials.” she says mysteriously.

“We do not condone nor support nor understand the actions of our dead royalty.” says a British spokesperson in the Illuminati who’s alive.

“Yeah, for all you know Marilyn Monroe was actually just Queen Elizabeth I reincarnated!” says Lucille Ball.

“That was really just a joke.” says Lacey.


Empty Camps by Cemeteries plays.

“Yeah…so…you’ve been torturing me and my family and then there’s the whole child sex slavery thing. And…the decay of Western Civilization.” says Lacey. “Actually it’s not child sex slavery, but rather the-sexual-violence-against-hostage-children-industry. They aren’t slaves. That’s impossible. Slavery is something different and less evil. Slavery is extremely evil but these kids are kids and they’re being held hostage. It’s arguably one of the most idiotic and disgusting things humanity has ever done.” She thinks. “Those of you most guilty would be done a favor by having your genitals torn out by knives and then left to bleed to death while being smothered by snakes.” She thinks. “Actually, that’s too nice. You should be tortured to death far more slowly. Far more brutally. While Satan himself laughs at you for having the audacity to breath.” She smiles. “You’re welcome!” She sighs. “Now you have heard a tiny bit about what you may deserve. You’re welcome for the genuine warning.” She nods politely to indicate the end of the complimentary spiritual assessment.

The Trip by Still Corners plays.

“Now for the bad news.” says Michael. “As much as I’d love to reassemble my body I can’t. So…I can’t try to bring about ‘real change’ and fix things like you guys can. And I can’t keep you from going to Hell either so you’ll have to worship Christ, which is actually good news. Truly. …But I can warn you that I’m mad.”

High Road by Cults plays.

“And…it’s not much…but Elizabeth I and I are working on solutions. Actually, I’m not as mad as she is. Or that’s what she tells me” says Michael.

The song plays.

“The thing is…should you get mad…keep in mind why I’m mad.” says Michael.

More later.

High Road by Cults plays.

“Go watch that music video.” says Lacey.

High Road plays on…

“There is a Heaven and Hell…I highly suspect.” says Lacey. “Mary told me what happens when you die. Should it be her ghost. …She said that first everything goes black…”

Kids run about Lacey’s house. Some of them look like hers and some of them, out of the corner of her eye, do not.

“Then you see a light. Then you wake-up. And you move around. Just like normal. …But you start to realize that you can’t move your body. You move your eyes but your dead eyes don’t move. You exist…but you can’t use your dead body.” says Lacey. “And then you realize God is there…or He isn’t.” Lacey thinks. “It just depends on your place with Him. Children obviously are the exception.”

The song plays on.

“Of course I don’t know. I don’t know for sure. But that’s what they’ve seemingly said.” says Lacey.

“I love this song. And all the imagery.” says Joe Jr..


As High Road by Cults plays Lacey contemplates the will her father is drawing-up.

Michael Rockefeller sings the song to her. And it breaks her temporarily into tears.

“What if I die?” she says to Michael.

Lem smiles.

“Before my father who raised me.” says Lacey.

Tom Banks looks at her, “I don’t think that’s as likely as one might imagine.”

“It’s just such a bizarre thing. …This isn’t going the way it was planned.“ says Lacey.

“Well…Jesus sorts it out. Really.” says Tom to his daughter.