“Dummies III” by Michael Rockefeller

Maneater by Nelly Furtado plays.

If I hadn’t died…Lem wouldn’t be confused. But we’d be in outer space. Often. And that’s territory of danger. We really don’t know enough about physics. Believe it or not.

No. Lacey is mine too…in a way. And until it’s safe I can’t relinquish that.

Lem has been a fool.

But I don’t want to relinquish that. And when this music plays I want to make love to Lacey.

Lem doesn’t understand South America. I do.

The other night Carolina Herrera and I tried to begin to explain it to Lem. But he wasn’t as receptive as necessary.

Lacey…is South American…except she also isn’t at all. It’s not genetic. In that way. The British and the Spanish are similar…in a way maybe. They’re still…the same genes. Enough, anyway.

The whole world currently revolves around South America. But nobody talks about it.

Not China. South America.

Not the Middle East. South America.

What did Lacey want? To win.

She has no personal glory in that way.

She wasn’t loved.

No.

She wanted to be loved. But that was secondary to Christ. Ultimately she wanted to win.

Win what?

What would these women be after? They aren’t Jack Kennedy, you pathetic losers.

“No. Actually…he’s right! Scotia isn’t JFK. That’s sick.” says a wizard. “Lacey has almost identical eyes to that woman in stained glass. That’s eerie. …Stop giving her weapons. She’s not in a good mood. And she’s never been a man or JFK.” says the wizard.

“But I see JFK in those women’s eyes!!” says the +GTQAI1234568910…lM7X community. Formerly known as the LGB community.

“Where should we have stopped?” asks a woman.

“LGBTQ+.” says Lacey. “Or just LGBT+.”

“Why not just LGB?” asks a lesbian.

“Good question!” says Lacey.

Maneater by Nelly Furtado plays as Lem watches Lacey cut off herds of men’s heads. Red and Jack are in the herd. Lacey cuts off their heads. In fact she leads a victorious troop that kills thousands quickly. They have chain mail and swords on good, fast horses.

“You have no worries?” asks Lem of Lacey.

“They have to die. That’s what you decided.” says Lacey. “When you decided to be gay. That’s what you told me to do. And I’m honorable.”

“Dammit.” says Lem.

The surge continues.

“How are you doing?” asks Tsar Putin of Lacey.

“I’m just starting. How are you doing?” asks Lacey.

“Not bad!” says Tsar Putin.

“Good. I’m already getting exhausted. I wish I was in better shape or maybe…if I could be myself. Dammit. Sorry.” says Lacey.

“That’s okay! …How many did you get?” asks Tsar Putin.

“How many?” Lacey asks her top man.

“5,000.” he says.

“That’s not bad! Believe me!” says Tsar Putin.

Heads Will Roll by Yeah Yeah Yeahs plays.

“Thank you for being so kind.” says Lacey, like a British lady.

“Of course! I take good care of myself! Don’t worry!” says Tsar Putin.

“Good!! That’s a relief to hear.” says Lacey.

He smiles and finishes his tea.

Crazy In Love by Beyoncé plays.

“She looks like me. Get over it.” says Beyoncé about Lacey.

“I do that sort of beauty.” says Lacey.

“Well. I’m glad they recognize it on my face.” says Beyoncé.

“Apparently humanity isn’t that regressed yet.” says Lacey.

“Yes. They see enough of me.” says Beyoncé. “If they didn’t see it…we would be in trouble as a species.”

“Let’s not be too hopeful though. I’ve been let down too often.” says Lacey.

The song ends.

What was she after? Victory for Christ. She’s not under the impression that she’s likely to ever “look crazy.” Maybe. But it seemed far more likely that she’d…be alone for eternity eventually. Why? Because that’s what her parents who raised her told her she should expect. Sex isn’t in Heaven according to Jonah Wiley. …And on Earth her old money family told her she was impossible to be loved and all living adult people agreed. Always. Every damn time. It was far too tempting to sadistically hate her…and so they did. The only adult person she’s ever met alive who wasn’t a worthless piece of shit to her in that capacity was Dr. Buttman…who possibly tried to kill her as a child.

Love Again by Dua Lipa plays.

Lacey is always alone. This song is the light years away from her existence. She has no idea what Dua Lipa is even talking about past a certain point. Even as an objective concept…at all…in relation to her. At all.

Doors Of Perception by Thievery Corporation plays.

But…she understands complex foreign policy like beginners knitting.

So…Lem…what was she doing? When she slept with me? Or Tsar Putin? Or Louis Hill Jr.? Or F. Scott Fitzgerald? …Harold Loeb?!? ELLIOTT ROOSEVELT?! Lem…do you notice a pattern to those names?

And Joe Kennedy Junior was…hurt when he was discarded after cheating on her. Why? Because he claimed she’d used him. Why? Because he was narcissistically wounded. It was gross.

Why? Because…we’re leaders. And…we’re more vicious than her. As men can only be. And…she’s scared. And…yet…she’s also very wise and loving.

She knew she needed to be understanding of our desire for her. As a fellow human. Our exasperation. Our weariness. So she was kind. That’s all.

Lem…you’ve convinced her she’s essentially worthless and vain for even mildly contemplating otherwise. But…it’s an easy pain to endure…because she’s…never been able to hope for that kind of happiness almost her entire life. She’s an orphan, Lem. An old money orphan. …And…really…the only thing she’s ever been attached to is victory for Christ.

The parents who raised her allowed her that. But she kept it secret anyway.

It consumes her Lem. It’s her sole purpose. Of course…being loved mattered to her…but it might not have mattered to her much at all if she didn’t think it was important to Christ. She only got attached in a normal healthy way to that concept because it seemed…wise.

She’s far from crazy. She’s just never been loved as an equal almost at all or as a child, by anyone other than Tom and possibly Thelma. She’s received very, very little love.

Casi shakes her tits and ass and the online perfume community cheers her on as she molests her cats in 2018. All Star by Smash Mouth plays. She’s the gay ugly fat peasant. She’s gets the love and admiration and Jesus! Not Lacey. Lacey’s the old, stupid, ignorant white bitch! According to online perfume community.

“Hi. That’s what happened. Don’t lie.” says Lem to the perfume community. “You all felt so sorry for Casi and yourselves. You still do.”

“I knew that they’d be idiots. That’s why I worried about you taking that collection so seriously.” says Gwen Howard to Lacey, her first-cousin once removed.

“It’s not all foolish nonsense! I promise.” says Tsar Putin. “Russia loves perfume.”

“See. I know nothing about that!” says Gwen Howard.

“Lacey does!” says Tsar Putin.

“That’s why I didn’t take your admonition seriously.” says Lacey.

“Because you knew I didn’t know anything about Ernest Beaux.” says Gwen Howard.

“Yes! It’s a beautiful history.” says Lacey.

“Fine. You might be smarter than me. …But they’re not.” says Gwen.

“I had far too much hope.” says Lacey.

Gwen smiles. “That’s okay. Just do your best to appreciate it.”

“I should. And will.” says Lacey.

And that’s what passes for a tender family exchange in Lacey’s Nesheim family. It’s is tender. But it’s not…umm…

Look…Lem…Lacey has an incredible depth of emotion. But it’s all in her head in the sense that she’s never…been able to express it. And all you needed to do was be clearer and you’d have never gotten hurt. She’s a great mother. She’s a great friend when she’s given the chance. She’s just…never going to bother you.

“I was so shocked when she slept with other men.” says Lem.

Why wouldn’t she?

“I slept with her.” says Lem.

Fine. But the best friend anybody ever had…told everybody alive then and since as the King of America…that…sex is meaningless for all men. That’s his most important and lasting legacy.

And at that her ex-husband berates Lacey for not taking a shower. He has no problem. He finds her blog…blasé and trifling. He assumes it can be put on hold for a while. He doesn’t care. …And he believes Lacey is bad at time management.

“Why don’t you take the fact that the Illuminati is harassing you more seriously?” Lem asks Mark.

“Because I have things to do today and my time is just as important if not more important than theirs at the end of the day, and I must keep things on schedule. If my schedule is violated, I consider it an important matter on behalf of anybody who should be affecting my schedule. It is most upsetting to have to listen to these droning idiots go on and on when I sit from my office, most literal genius who could run a great many things in this country-

I want to cut a mistake that saved my company millions and yet for me, fixing it, was as simple as scratching my neck. …I have absolutely no idea why one should have to bother, it’s a simple thing. I simply wanted her to take a shower. I just want things to go back to normal and for things to go on with my schedule as I have scheduled them.” says Mark.

“But it’s the Illuminati Mark, doesn’t that worry you at all?” asks Lem.

“No, if I was you, I’d be a great bit more worried about why you don’t understand Lacey better.

Lem…you’ve devastated her. I’ve heard her screaming at you in the middle of the night. She fell down the stairs partially because you were too big of an idiot to prevent it. Even if you did save her life, your mistakes have cost my family thousands and thousands of dollars.

As to my mistakes I can’t say they’re mistakes. Listen, I am totally unattached to my own life at this point and yet…I’m also perfectly attached at the same time. A lot-I’m a lot like Lacey.

I am incredibly intelligent. I’m not vain. I’m not pretentious in that way. I’m just an actual genius, except with me it’s easier to see because it’s in a way that is far more easy to credential. Teachers liked the way that I worked. It was easier to quantify my intelligence using our current scientific capabilities. My high scores, and my brilliant mind are not particularly of interest to me though. What is of interest is keeping things on schedule.” says Mark.

“Mark does it scare you when things get off schedule or does it just irritate you?” asks a witch.

“It enrages me.

When things go on schedule I’m content. I can tend to be myself. I’m content to have the life that I have, and to do my bit. When things are off schedule, I suddenly start to notice all the imperfections; all the things that I can’t change until I’m dead. And it irks me…profoundly.

Lem if I haven’t made love to Lacey, you’re welcome. You’re welcome, Lem. You’re welcome.” says Mark.

“Mark you seem like you understand Lacey and that you two are actually quite close…in very reserved, almost British, way. Is that true?” asks Betty White.

“I don’t know if there’s reincarnation or not in the Bible, Ms. Betty White. If there is reincarnation in the Bible, I’d ask you to refer to Christ for all of your inquiries. I am currently busy and cannot answer you suitably. I apologize greatly for this inconvenience. thanks so much for your patience. Best, Mark.” says Mark.

“You are fine, but Mark I don’t understand how you think treating Lacey‘s feelings like they don’t matter makes sense.” says Betty White.

“It’s not that I don’t think they matter!

Betty…it’s that I can’t properly and suitably ascertain what the hell they are anymore. If there is reincarnation in the Bible, I don’t know what fucking out is up. The truth is…if I am British in some deeper way in my soul, I’ve realized that by marrying Lacey.

At the end of the day, we’re good friends.

Lacey and I, we support each other. With loyalty. We belong to each other, legally and otherwise.

I should probably be quite worried about her if we die. Until I know all is right.

But we’re not close in that way. No, we’re close in the way that you would be close to what we are. We’re not family but family. Betty…we’ve given-up on being lovers.

I don’t act like I’ve given-up but in a sense I’ve given-up because she’s given-up but that is if I am reincarnated. I’m a British aristocrat or at least someone of some importance and wealth and I just don’t see the point in remembering.

Lacey‘s incredibly good-looking and I get more sexual satisfaction out of watching her undress and sleeping next to her occasionally and thinking of her and being around her, having already slept with her than in finding someone else. It’s an incredible amount of bother and waste to find someone else…and I don’t see the point. I slept with 28 other women. I don’t really feel the need to go out and carouse around for more. I’m 41 years old! Now is the time to focus on my money, and my schedule, and my children and my house and my career…and my wife does her part. She cooks, she cleans. And it’s annoying that the Illuminati should mess with me. They have no idea who I am! Who I was! And that’s just stupid. You know I could have had them all executed those poor things things.” says Mark.

“So you’re very stuffy! Who were you Mark or if there’s not reincarnation in the Bible who would you have been?“ says Greta Thurnberg.

“A Duke or an Earl or someone of that sort. I’m probably in the 1500’s or 1600s maybe 1700s. A very long time ago. I was vicious. I was wiry and I was not as sophisticated as some people. But I was incredibly rich and very humble, and the country relied on me and I always came through.

I’m not a sophisticate or a grand lover, or as wise of a man as Lem about certain things. I don’t know poetry the way that he does. I am terrible with my fingers. I can’t so my writing is shit and always has been. It still is.

And if there’s reincarnation in the Bible, I’m not very well-spoken. You wouldn’t know that now because I am currently speaking very slowly.

I’m not saying I’m a perfect man, but I don’t like getting irritated…because if I can’t keep things on schedule, I guarantee you it’s not good news. People might starve! There’s a lot of wheat. There’s a lot of food that people won’t eat. If I can’t keep things on schedule. My schedule is of the upmost importance.

It’s a simple request.” says Mark.

Where Is My Mind by Maxence Cyrin plays.

“So you had no idea if there’s reincarnation in the Bible and that you were a British aristocrat until you met Lacey and then suddenly you realized that or what happened?” asks a woman obsessed with Mark who reads Lacey’s blog.

“If there’s reincarnation in the Bible, I would ask you to please stop suggesting that our sexual liaisons were of any sort of grand meaning.

I was once a duke? Well we shall see, but that was hundreds of years in the past.

I am no longer that person so if you wish to refer to me as a person in your mind, you should have to realize that you were someone else yourself? It’s not likely that you’ve ever been anyone as important as I was…so if you’re wondering if I used you and then discarded you like a waste bucket full of shit the answer is yes. I never said that I was a kinder, more loving man. I wasn’t in that way. Oh sure I had some goodness to me and I might’ve even been a Christian, but I was evil in that way, and I had prostitutes that I slept with, and I didn’t see them as being as human as my wife or myself. I never thought of you as being potentially as human as I was and I know that’s wrong. I’m sorry the truth is I do think you used me, but I didn’t care because at the end of the day I thought you were subhuman and beneath me…so even if you raped me your animalistic distances and inability to control yourself as a normal human would didn’t surprise me. I found you most unsurprising in your pushy sack, socks, and insistence on chasing me around to try to get me to fuck you. Which is why I showed up at your house drunk because I felt rather sorry for you with your subhuman sexual depravity and urges to try to ascertain what it must be like for those of us that are still human and have normal sexual human urges, and if this all sounds rather brutish, and lacking in refined politically correct know-how it’s because if there is reincarnation in the Bible, you babbling buffoon, you’re not supposed to have these things told you until you’re dead.

Before you’re dead being told that I didn’t care if you raped me because I thought you were a subhuman piece of literal shit is not something you should read on my blog. Excuse me my wife’s blog. You see, because it’s not something that I am consciously aware that I am even contemplating.

The truth is if I owe you an apology you’re going to have to wait until I can verify that I was this Duke which I won’t be able to do until I’m dead. When I am dead, if I can verify that I was this Duke who thought you were a piece of garbage…I shall apologize to you if you’re not garbage profusely. But since I can no longer ascertain such things, you will have to delay in hearing your apology. My regrets. Does that make sense or are you truly just a piece of worthless shit?” says Mark.

“I think I may have forced myself on you.” says the woman to Mark.

“Yes dear, I know, but the truth is, if I’m reincarnated, I didn’t entirely care and I struggle to care now because you’re a woman and in my mind you’re still quite beneath me otherwise too. Isn’t that sad?

You got quite frisky…and it’s not that I blame you. It’s just that it’s humiliating as a man to be so accosted. I should have denied your present…and I’m sorry that I did not.” says Mark.

“I think that be very hard to do nowadays Mark.” says the woman.

“That might be true but see that’s the problem, you’re talking to my spirit and if there’s reincarnation in the Bible then I’m not thinking in those terms. No, I’m thinking in my spirit about a very distant time in the past. I’m sorry I don’t have patience to keep talking to you. You’re an idiot.” says Mark.

Blue Jeans by Lana Del Rey plays.

See…Lem…you should apologize for giving her the idea she needed to sleep with anyone but you. I don’t think she wanted to.

This ain’t Kansas anymore, Dorothy. Wake-up. You’re not a good friend of Dorothy’s. And…you’re never going back.

“Mark did you think I was a black or was I just like Irish to you or what was I?” asks the woman.

“No, there are very few black people in my country. You are not black to me. What is silly question.” says Mark.

“Then why was I beneath you? In your mind, why am I beneath you?” she asks.

(Adult content below)

“You see, because you lived in a very bad house with a very bad family who fucked cows when they were drunk. While I was staying in London overnight…I would get quite drunk and go to the brothel where you worked toothless, horny and sad.

And I never wanted to sleep with you without a condom and I never did or I don’t believe I almost ever did because I didn’t want to impregnate you or get syphilis or gonorrhea or chlamydia. I worried that you as a peasant were possibly not eating enough, but I certainly did not think of you as my equal in society, you contributed a 10th of what I did snd your father fucked cows. And in my mind, you are morally destitute yourself. I know the games you played with other men’s minds. I saw through you and your pushy ‘servant heart.’ Oh…your dear servant heart, right?

Yes, the servant that shines your shoes and steals your wife’s jewelry. Molests your children and kills your dog in the night for fun…and of course those things are tragic and terrible…but in a horny toothless prostitute at 12 AM one can’t be too picky and one has to understand that that’s the role of a prostitute in an established brothel and the madame who understands how to manage the women that work for her. Because as living beings, perhaps that’s the best that they can do. And as a man I understood that you were there to meet my needs as best as you could and you did on occasion and I thank you for your services.

I’m sorry if I never paid you appropriately, perhaps you were pushy. Perhaps I paid for your alcohol and your food and the condoms. Perhaps you conned me and I refuse to pay cause I knew that you were just after my wallet the entire time but I shall not let you kill my dogs. I shall not let you molest my children or steal my wife’s jewelry. I am on to you, and you shall be surprised at my wrath if you ever walk into my house and try to take anything that belongs to me. Have I made myself clear?” says Mark.

He really does feel sorry for you, Katie, but you really cannot keep assuming that he was ever in love with you. I’m sorry if you weren’t a prostitute in your heart intent and when he dies, he’ll understand that if it’s true but I think that was how he perceived you based on how you presented yourself to him. I am sure he wishes you well but if your fascination with him is delusional, it’s never going to come true Katie. I don’t know who it is that you thought he was or if there’s something wrong with you, but God knows and I’m sorry that he’s so heartless. I don’t think it’s because he doesn’t care about you as a person. I think it’s because he was never supposed to be sleeping with you in the first place.