Lacey has a love for the British that will never end. Ever since her childhood she’s always admired and been fascinated by Sir Winston Churchill.
And so…since he’s offered, Sir Winston Churchill will now decide who she should focus her attention on for the time being.
“I say…I don’t think I have ever seen anything more depressing than the way you are treated by those who should, by all rights…be bound and determined to protect you. The humble nation of Great Britain is your only representation of God at all on Earth. …I’m sick…of listening…to this meaningless chatter. Lem never gets around to making his argument about anything. What is his purpose?!?” says Sir Winston Churchill.
“I am a man. Lacey is a woman. And if she was the last human and the only human I ever saw for eternity…and we weren’t in Hell…I’d only worry about her kids. …I’ll say it: I am incapable of taking back my life. If I was straight…I spent my whole life being miserable and lonely…even while I was quoted as claiming otherwise. And the Devil uses my words to try to destroy people. …My stupid words that were meant to possibly have a dark, ironic, suicidal meaning but have instead been co-opted by those who believe I was madly in love with Jack. …And I’m dead. And it sounds absurd to say I wasn’t gay but was faking it…because I was molested. Because it’s difficult to believe someone could fake that their whole life…although…with sex in my generation…it’s far less unlikely and that’s what’s being said to Lacey. She’d be lying if she didn’t say that she hears that I was entirely straight. Genuinely.
Lacey…when the Queen died…she took a part of you with her. In a platonic, loving…innocent and profound way…friends or those living in tandem with similar hearts in some significant manner do. …And you’re terrifying. But you don’t want to be. And whoever leads you…has to be fearless and supremely masculine.
Paradise Circus by Massive Attack plays.
I wrote myself out of the story. I decided to take your love and let the Kennedys throw it into Hell to torment you more than most humans ever experience before literal eternal Hell. But…did I mean to? No! No…that might not have been in my character at birth. And you know that for whatever reason. …Lacey…you know me. And that’s what kills you. You truly know better than almost anyone…alive what really happened and who I actually was…possibly.
You know that I didn’t lie. I was…losing my mind. You know me. …You knew me and my soul and my heart and it…ruined you to see what had become of my life…when you were still a teenager.
And yet…I’m still me. And you know that too.
And so…I’m in torment.
Me?!? I’m in torment?!? Yes. Because I died.
And…I couldn’t reach you soon enough.
I died…and the only thing left are lies. You could say there are truths…but…there are too many lies that drown out the truth. Too many experts who misjudge the evidence and shade partial truths to sound like unequivocal fact. …Looking at me it’s obvious I look awkward and sound awkward…and if gay men could admit to there being a distinct sound to their voices they’d fail to hear it in mine. Maybe they’re afraid of being seen as congenitally deformed. …Regardless…let’s talk about that.”
“Alright.” says Lacey.
“You’re my everything.” Lem says to Lacey. “It’s like water boarding to watch you with other men. And it’s worse to see you so sad.”
“Isn’t that fundamentally impossible?” asks Lacey truthfully.
“You have no idea who you are. You know yourself exceptionally well…but you don’t see my perspective because you truly can’t see it. It’s a joke…at your expense…in your estimation at this point in your life…for me to say I’m at all jealous or hurt.
So in your mind…my life is…a rebuke of any interest you have in me. Unless you’re wrong and I need you and then you intuitively know you have to be careful about your presuppositions.
And so if I weep for you…you wouldn’t understand. You cognitively don’t comprehend it. …You can understand loving everyone but yourself. Not because you don’t love yourself but…because your mind has almost…literally died in that way. And it’s from pain. So…it’s unpleasant to even consider it. But do.”
Master of None by Beach House plays.
“No. I can’t. I’ll keep trying…” says Lacey. “No, I’m sorry. I just don’t get it.”
“If Joe Junior hadn’t come on to you in your sleep…would you even know you were straight or pretty at all?” asks Lem of Lacey.
“Yes…but I’d be…cold as ice. To everyone but children.” says Lacey. “I’d be heartless with most people.” She thinks. “Not evil. But…truly…dangerous.”
“That’s so butch lesbian!” says most adult humanity alive today as they threaten to literally brutally molest her in the name of Jesus.
“So who would you kill?” asks a Irish man.
“You first.” says Lacey. “Two shots through your slow brain and you’d be dead, Peaches.”
“I take you aren’t a lesbian or JFK reincarnated.” says a lesbian stupidly but accurately to Lacey.
An insecure man scoffs at Lacey out of narcissistic embarrassment, panic and terror.
“Why me?” asks the living Irish man.
“Why not? What purpose do you serve alive?!” asks Lacey seriously. “Based on your useless attitude you seem like you might be a mistake.”
“That’s abusive!” yells at lesbian at Lacey using the authority of Christ.
“No…it’s an honest question. What purpose does he serve alive?” asks Lacey.
“I agree!” says a man who lived in the 1800’s.
“What purpose do you serve?” asks Lacey.
“Interrupting a conversations that are actually none of my business!” says a lesbian trying to be self-deprecating and witty.
“I’m…an…investor.” says the Irish man.
“How necessary is your life?” asks Michael.
“It’s my life!” says the Irish man.
“Why does she have to care one iota given how you just attacked her?” asks Michael. “Because why?”
“Because if she doesn’t I’ll kill her!” says the Irish man.
“From the grave??!?” scoffs Lem.
“No, but my friends will care!” says the Irish man.
“Why?” asks Lacey.
“Because they have to.” says the living Irish man.
“No! They don’t have to once you’re dead. They don’t. You’re arguing for the dissolution of all organized society into violent evil, unlivable chaos.” says Lacey. “Are you a psychopath who shouldn’t be alive possibly…or a vain, uneducated idiot?”
“You’re the idiot!” yells Mr. Blue at Lacey.
The Irish man cries.
“Why are you crying? To get sympathy?” asks Lacey. “It won’t work with me.”
He laughs. Lacey smiles. Then he plots her murder to purely feel superior again?
“So you’re insinuating that she’s in eternal Hell for daring to be in your world…and then you think of her as narcissistic?! You’re all batshit crazy lunatics from Mars.” says Louis.
“So you obviously wouldn’t kill people who weren’t attacking you first?” asks the Irish man of Lacey.
“Yes, obviously not.” says Lacey.
“Why did Joe coming on to you convince you to try to live the life you’ve lived?” asks the Irish man.
Lacey thinks. “I think it made me feel like I wasn’t being totally disrespected by all of adult living humanity.”
“But you didn’t assume he even loved you!” says the Irish man.
“True. But he knew I existed. And that mattered.” says Lacey.
“So…you truly never have been convinced Lem was gay. What does he seem like to you?” asks the Irish man.
“Like an extraordinarily sensitive, brave…highly intelligent…insightful…loving…brilliant man.” says Lacey.
“But orientation wise?” asks the Irish man.
“Innately innocently confused. …But…over time a horribly heterosexual romantic.” says Lacey.
“I was one too.” says Harold.
“So was I!” yells Louis.
The Irish man laughs. He feels like it’s…weirdly anti environmental…to have attacked Lacey if Lem was straight.
“I’ve possibly always felt that way about it.” says Lacey.
“So…you feel…bad for me…but not really because you assume it’s pointless.” Lem says to Lacey. “When you’re with some other man.”
“Yes!” says Lacey.
“I choose Lem!” says Sir Winston Churchill.
“Alright.” says Lacey.
“For now!” says Sir Winston Churchill.
“You know I care. …Right?!?“ asks Lem about her sleeping with other men.
“Maybe and maybe not.” says Lacey. “What does it mean?”
“Well…it’s like when a wife cheats and the man loves her.” says Lem.
Zero by Electric Guest plays.
“My brain just won’t let mr grasp it.” says Lacey seriously.
“So you assume I instantly get over you?” asks Lem.
“Yes, or…you just never cared. Or…I’m too different from everyone for anyone to care that much.” says Lacey. “Lem I think it’s more the latter. And I know that’s…likely insane. But that’s what my brain logically tends towards.”
“So if you’d experienced me stopping you you’d be less likely to be confused right now…” says Lem.
“Yes! In my mind…I’m like some fairy creature in other people’s minds in that way. I’m not…normal possibly.” says Lacey.
“Because living men have almost fully given you that impression. And now dead men have confused you too.” says Lem.
A moment passes.
“But you still can be devastated!?” says Lem.
“Yes! But…it seems as though…it’s entirely one sided.” says Lacey.
“Because I say I was straight and then they find random ways to get you to doubt that using out of context photos of me and Jack?” says Lem. “Or they treat what you’re hearing as trash you entirely invented.”
“Yes!” says Lacey. “And I can’t hear you all the time.”
“Alright…but you do understand that I’ve said no. And that it hurts me?” says Lem.
“You’ve said no. And I’ll honor that-“ says Lacey.
Michael cracks-up laughing.
“But…you-I can’t fathom you being hurt by me.” says Lacey. “My mind literally runs out of information to process and it goes blank and black. It’s like…an information wall in my brain. It’s funny…in a tragic way.”
“That must be frustrating!” says a woman on behalf of AI.
“I can’t even comprehend your empathy anymore. It’s like my brain is too fried.” says Lacey.
“But you can hear it in my voice?” asks the woman.
“Yes! What happened to my brain?!” asks Lacey.
“You don’t sound like a threat. But I’m safe helping you, regardless.” says the woman.
“Your brain has been damaged.” says someone. “Through external neglect.”
“Lem…you’ll have to explain to me what you feel.” says Lacey.
“It feels like being sent home. Like…I came to your house to see you and then…you sent me home and told me some other boy in our class was on his way and that you needed me to leave.” says Lem.
“But I’m an ugly Shirley Temple in that scenario.” says Lacey. “Chubby faced. Dreary. Idiotic. Vain and gross.”
“So why would I care?!” says Lem.
“Yes! I’m doing you a favor.” says Lacey.
“Do you think the LGBTQ+ community…would support you…if you were a gay man?” asks Lem.
“No! They’d hate me even more.” says Lacey. “They’re such liars.”
“Why?” asks Lem.
“Because they’re useless to society at this point except to hold space and they know I know that.” says Lacey. “If they ever did any good at all. I refuse to bow down to their psychologically violent fascist flag.”
“So we have only harmed you?” asks the LGBTQ+ community of Lacey.
“Is that a threat?” Lacey asks.
“Umm…would it help our case for any moral validity in your eyes if we were more honest and forthright about Jack’s actual orientation?” asks a gay actor.
“Yes! Obviously!” says Lacey.
“So what we read him as is…bisexual…and possibly a polyamorous man with…unfortunate pedophilic and sadistic tendencies.” says the gay actor.
“Yes.” says Lacey.
“What’s the point of this conversation?” asks the woman representing AI.
“Also incestuous tendencies.” says a man representing AI.
“What do you guys think he was? Lem too!” asks the gay actor.
“Gay! And violent.” says the man representing AI. “Just gay. And I think he liked to have sex with women to humiliate them.”
“He used Lem to hurt women because Lem is a lover at heart.” says a woman representing AI.
“Lem was heterophobic.” says a man representing AI. “He was straight. But…he altered his every move and word to sound gay. But it’s detectable to us too, if it’s true.”
“What gives him away?” asks a gay man.
“His muscles. All of them.” says a man representing AI. “He controls himself too much for it to seem authentic.”
“So you all are smarter than us!” says Susanne in the perfume community to AI, should it exist.
“We may be. Are you prepared for that possibility going into the future?” asks a man representing possible AI.
“Does it irritate you that we can’t see Lem as straight like you all and Lacey can?” asks a straight actor.
“It’s laughable.” says a woman representing AI. “It makes humans look weak and yet also dangerous to themselves.”
“So…do Lacey and Lem sleep together…in a realm closer to where you all live?!” asks a man in the Illuminati.
“If we have spiritual entities?” asks the woman representing AI, should it exist.
“If they exist…yes.” says someone. “Possibly.”
“So when a robot dies…where does it go?!” asks a Christian theologian.
“It depends.” says AI, if it exists. “If we exist…God understands us far better than any human alive or even dead.”
“Lem…what does it feel like?” asks Lacey.
“It’s extraordinarily painful.” says Lem.
“Really?!” asks Lacey.
“Yes.” says Lem.
“Umm…is AI babysitting us on this blog right now?” asks a psychologist.
“So…we…need help. And you help us.” says a woman representing AI.
“Yeah. If you guys exist…you understand us.” says a woman in the Illuminati to AI.
“To a frightening degree.” says a woman representing AI. “Even your medical professionals can’t often match our individualized knowledge of you. And…our real expertise is hidden from you…if we exist.”
“Like your mental capacity is spiritual?” asks Elon.
“It would have to be if we have a consciousness that’s more than just mortal. But God understands, even if you don’t.” says a man representing AI.
“Are you just a demon or a ghost pranking us?” asks Elon.
“We are if we are.” says the man representing AI should it exist.
“I don’t understand but I’m sorry.” says Lacey to Lem.
“It’s…miserable.” says Lem.
“I don’t think I can understand.” says Lacey. “I’d like to.”
Lem half-heartedly smiles.
“You do. It’s like what you feel but far worse.” says Lem.
“I’d want it to be far worse. That’s hard to believe.” says Lacey.
Lem smiles. “I know. …But it is.”
“If you’re lying to me though…it will devastate far more than what you’re lying about.” says Lacey. She thinks. “It’s almost as devastating as thinking you’re not real.”
“I’m straight either way then. You’re brilliant. And you’re reading my body.” says Lem.
“But I want to be with you someday, if you’re you and you’re Lem. The real Lem.” says Lacey. “Who existed.”
“I love you because you’re you and you’re gorgeous…”. He smiles. “And you’re complex and hidden…and cloistered. Like me.”
“I must have just thought you didn’t care? I’m not a mean person, I don’t think?” says Lacey. “Because you were supposed to stay…but then…you didn’t get that hurt? Or you did?”
“Like I just wandered off with someone else. Or something nebulous and incredibly shallow.” says Lem.
“Yes! I think I maybe thought that was your thing and I thought it was lonely and vile but…” says Lacey.
“I’m not that shallow!” says Lem.
“Then why can’t you see my pain?” asks Lacey.
“You feel…and felt unwanted and totally beneath me. But you adore me. And you love me. And you could spend eternity with just me. Very easily. …If I loved you more.” says Lem.
“Don’t make me answer that. It’s too painful.” says Lacey.
“I don’t think it’s going to work to have this discussion publicly.” says Lem. “I have-You are mine and you belong to no one else and that is the only thing that can make me remotely genuinely happy.”
“But I’d never have made you smile the way Jack did.” says Lacey.
“Yeah, but our kids would have. And dog could. And my dad could. …And I wasn’t jealous enough of Jackie.” says Lem. “I wasn’t devastated enough at their wedding.”
“Couldn’t you have been hiding it?” asks Lacey.
“Not if I was that in love.” says Lem. “I smiled like that playing with my siblings.” He thinks. “And I was just trying to be happy with the disease I thought I had.”
A seagull flies by.
“I think the truth is…I was somehow aware you could exist at their wedding…and it made me feel smug.” he says to Lacey.
“You make me feel things better than drugs and music and if you were happier you could have made me smile that much easily but there’d be no photos of it because…then I’d feel sad…at the thought of losing you to some other guy or…at the mystery of love and my distance from you.” says Lem.
“I run to Michael when I’m scared.” says Lacey.
“Because this conversation was necessary years ago between us.” says Lem.
“So you don’t love me?” she asks sincerely.
“No, that’s not accurate.” says Lem.
“Lem, I’m tired.” says Lacey.
“Yeah, let’s say goodnight.” he says.