Drunk

If there’s reincarnation in the Bible I wasn’t George Falconer.

The End of All Our Exploring by Max Richter plays.

I was never a man. But…I’m also not that…way. I admire people who are. But I’m not.

People describe Joe Kennedy Junior as being defiant of death and evil. I’m like that too. Or maybe I’m like that…and if he was or had been a better person he would have been too. What else is there to defy? You can’t defy God. Not really. You either accept His love or live in misery. And why would you want to defy truth, goodness and justice? Real peace and catharsis? You wouldn’t. No…you can’t defy Christ. You can only ruin everything by rejecting truth. So…one defies what should be defied. Death. Evil.

If there’s reincarnation in the Bible I didn’t wake up one day and decide to commit suicide. No. That’s not what happened. Not at all.

I hang on to my moments of clarity.

…I was a Scottish woman. Probably an aristocrat or at least…mostly upper-class. Of some noble birth. And anyway…I knew how to drink alcohol. And to me it wasn’t a shameful thing. It was…something to do with men…who were friends or literal brothers. And…I didn’t often do it. But I knew how to drink. And…simply put: my husband died in World War I. I had had at least one or two miscarriages. I was childless. I was an orphan. And I was extremely rich and posh and well-bred.

It’s Done by Nicholas Britell plays.

Lem was far more cheerful than me. By nature. I was soft and playful and could be mindlessly cheerful. But…I had a cavernously deep…dark…bottomless part of my wild soul. Not unchartered by God. No! But…wild. Maybe Bloody Mary was literally one of my ancestors. I think she was. And I bet she had a bottomless part of her soul only known to God as well.

I sound scary. But I wasn’t. I was just…private. And you don’t seem to know about me anymore. Oh well. Maybe Keira Knightly and her ilk clouded your view. Helena Bonham Carter is the last actress I’ve seen who’s soul actually resembles mine and others of my time, should there be reincarnation in the Bible. Everyone more recent is just adding to the opacity of time passing by. Sorry! Get over it!

Anyway…when Lem died…it felt like I died too. Quite literally. And I didn’t think it made sense to be alive. But…it seemed I was.

Succession (Main Theme) by Nicholas Britell plays.

I didn’t want to be with other men. I didn’t want to be alive. But I was. And I must have loved God more than anything or anyone so I didn’t see fit to defy Him. Or rather, to try to defy Him. So…in my rage and I do mean rage…I got the idea in my head to go to either Edinburgh or London and attend parties. Alone. Wildly drunk.

Not to kill myself…not necessarily to defy God…but rather to…defy the 20th Century. Or something like that. Not Great Britain or the Royal Family or any of that. But…men maybe who were too stupid to keep us out of war? Or maybe the people who told me not to spend more time with Lem before he died. To be prim and proper and not just insane…and obviously in love. Because now he was dead…and fuck it all to Hell…quite literally…all that tedious good humor meant nothing.

Intermezzo in C Minor – “Money Wins” by Nicholas Britell.

By the way…word of caution: if this sounds convincing…don’t take it out of context. It has to be in the Bible or it doesn’t exist. Reincarnation isn’t possible without Christ if it exists at all. And…actually…even if it’s not what happened…it’s still possibly worth discussing because it might elucidate some part of my soul anyway.

I got a whole bottle of red wine. I wore a lace white dress. The dress was meant for daytime use but I felt it was appropriate for London and it was meant to keep me warm and discreet. …I had several drinks and had been drinking heavily for possibly weeks or months. Endlessly asking the servants to go get another bottle. And they were beginning to be concerned about me. One maid in particular was. She was very on edge.

But I took off to London or Edinburgh? I think it was London. And somewhere in a nice part of London…I was heavily intoxicated and carrying around my big bottle of red wine…

It looked like that probably but it was a greener glass. And the label was blue? Royal blue?

Anyway…I was walking around carrying that bottle wearing something like this?

And I walked into a townhouse in London…where there was a dimly lit party. It was late. Probably around 9 or ten at night. And I was alone of course. And I just…kept drinking.

People left me alone. Maybe they knew I was mourning someone. Maybe they were put off by me. Regardless…I was alone. Pleasantly greeted. I recall people being very nice.

Anyway…I was in a merry…defiant…rather rambunctious mood…extremely drunk…when I waltzed out of a party where I think the door was possibly left open…and I mindlessly walked out into the street. And something hit me. I didn’t see it coming. And it knocked me over enough and I was drunk so…I took quite a fall and I cracked my head on the road. And I think I died right then and there.

I died…drunk…alone and defiant. Hitting my head. Cracking open my gorgeous Scottish skull.

Strings + 808 + Beat by Nicholas Britell plays.

Fuck you. Fuck all of you dumbass haters. You’re bitch twats from Hell when it comes to me. Well…not really. But what else should I say? You’re obnoxious.

If there’s reincarnation this actually likely happened to me. And it was very probably Lem.

Don’t I matter? You can’t answer? Or you answer no. …So I will. I’ll disagree. Yes. I do. And your…idiotic, vain, worthless butchery of reality is…sad. If this happened…y’all don’t know shit?

Roman’s Beat – “Heart” by Nicholas Britell plays.

No. I’m not Phoebe Butterworth. I’m not Maxwell Draperyton. I’m not…some…desperate woman.

And I’m not Lem.

And I’m not Jack.

Jack defies all rules and…seems to be unreasonably loved and favored mindlessly. For no damn good reason. At all. I can’t stand it. He truly doesn’t deserve it at all. He’s a loser. A completely useless man potentially. Don’t tell me your stupid war stories about him that you read in a book. …Do you have any idea how may other men-

*Joe Kennedy Junior laughs and sighs*

Do you have any idea how many other men died!?? Do you have any idea how many other heroes there were!? Amazing heroes. Profound heroes. His story is common.

“It’s true!” says a living World War II historian.

I mean sure…he was…noble. Fine. But he wasn’t…rare. So why do we and did we so vehemently celebrate his accomplishments in war? It’s perverse.

“She’s not exaggerating or overreacting.” says Joe Kennedy Junior. “It’s heartbreaking listening to her. Especially for me. But…she’s really just telling the truth.”

I’m not sore. It’s not that I have some grudge like you, Joe. I really am just…furious.

“I know.” says Joe, trying not to fall in love with her again.

Andante in C Minor – Main Theme Strings Variation by Nicholas Britell plays.

JACK…JACK KENNEDY….is overrated. And it’s sick.

“We despised him. He was a little self-important ninny.” says one of Jack Kennedy’s classmates from Choate.

“Then why the Hell was Lem friends with him?!” scoffs Lacey.

The song plays.

“Lacey…why did you drink so much that day?” asks Joe Kennedy Junior.

Bell Atmospheres by Nicholas Britell plays.

“I loved being drunk.” says Lacey.

“Why?” asks Bobby Kennedy Senior.

Lacey thinks. “Because my feelings already didn’t matter to people.

Theme Variation – Piano, Orchestra, 808 plays.

And drunk…I had the audacity to strangle them without laying a hand on them…if they deserved it. I could exact my revenge. Gleefully.” says Lacey.

“How?” asks JD Rockefeller.

Lacey thinks.

“Maybe I was planning to start a riot.” wonders Lacey.

“In London?” asks an actor.

“Yes!” says Lacey.

“But you cared about the children?” asks a dead Rothschild. “Should there be reincarnation anyway.”

“Yeah. Probably. …My options were limited.” says Lacey. “But I think I aimed to do something…dangerous.”

“You’re not a Kennedy.” says Bobby Kennedy Senior to Lacey. “That’s not us.”

“No! But it was me.” says Lacey. “If there’s reincarnation. And it still is.”

“What did I get myself into? If there’s reincarnation?” asks JFK from Hell.

Lacey thinks. “Bloody Mary’s bloody revenge.” says Lacey.

Dark Minuet by Nicholas Britell plays.

“Oh that sounds epic. Yeah right! I’m sure Bloody Mary is in a good mood!” says a typical living, white (enough), well-off enough, reasonably attractive gay man of 2024. He’s spoiled, coddled, worshipped and catered to unlike almost any other person alive.

“I’m not…sure…what to say. It’s grim.” says Bloody Mary.

Anyway. If there’s reincarnation…I’m not Jack. I’m not Leonard Maltoy. Or Ferdinand Aloysius. Or whatever his name was.

“Leonard Falconer.” says Christopher Isherwood, laughing.

“What was his name?” asks Lacey.

“George.” says Christopher.

“No. I’m not him.” says Lacey.

“Would you rather be?” asks Mr. Isherwood.

“No. Because God made me me. But…it would be nice.” says Lacey.

“Why?” asks Mr. Isherwood.

“Because everyone loves George Falconer. They wish him well. See his feelings. Plumb the depths of his soul in endless devotion as fellow humans. He’s loved.” says Lacey. “People are fascinated by me. But they’d rather shit in my face than think of my feelings with any sincere concern or maturity for more than a few milliseconds.”

“Yup!” says Bloody Mary. She smiles at Lacey.

Nobody by Mitski plays as it’s a song in adoration of Lem. He was the famous “Nobody” after all. Jack shakes his penis to get everyone’s attention flowing in Lem’s direction. Everyone claps and cheers for them like they’re the cutest, bestest, most amazing humans to ever…ever live. Damn all other humans and children to Hell. Because Jack needs to be loved and Lem might be a tiny bit sad.

“FUCK!” screams Bobby Kennedy Junior. “Pay attention to me! Or I’ll kill everyone!!!” He grabs the world and shakes it by its throat practically strangling everyone alive. When he vaguely has our attention he drops us and we fall.

Then he starts dancing. He just wants all the attention now.

“Okay. But I’m still the main attraction!” says Jack Kennedy patronizingly.

“Jack why can’t we quit you?” asks the CIA.

“Because I made the entire world suck my cock by brainwashing Lem. And making him smile. All…the…time!” says Jack grinning.

“Nevermind.” says Bobby Kennedy Junior.

“Nevemind!?” says JFK.

“Yeah. I’m the hot piece of Kennedy ass now. Loser!” says Bobby, doing a shimmy.

Jack pushes his nephew and starts crying.

Fickle Game by Amber Run plays.

“LOSER!!” screams JFK, throwing a temper tantrum of epic proportions.

Bobby Kennedy Junior has moves and takes the cameras.

“Dammit! I’ll send my grandson after you! I’ll turn the entire family against you!” says JFK, like a buffoon.

“What!? I can’t hear you?” says Bobby dancing and smiling.

“FUCK YOU! NIGGER!” yells JFK at Bobby.

Bobby keeps dancing.

“FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!” yells JFK at Bobby.

Bobby laughs it off and poses cute for the cameras. That really pisses off JFK.

JFK grabs a 2×4 and aims for Bobby’s head. Bobby falls flat on his face.

“There see. Now what?” says JFK laughing at his nephew.

Bobby grabs a gun and starts shooting at Jack. An ad appears mocking JFK at the Super Bowl.

Bobby stands up and his uncle over the head with a 2×4.

Jack holds his head and cries.

Midnight City by M83 plays.

“I almost killed your daughter!” yells JFK at Bobby.

“No! I almost killed your daughter!” yells Bobby.

“No. You had my daughter’s head hit twice by demons. She said she was pushed.” says Lem.

“She’s not your daughter!” says Mark Schiebel, brainwashed by the Illuminati in his subconscious to be angry at an opportune moment.

“No. She is.” says Lem.

“Then why do we care?” asks Bobby Kennedy Junior. “She’s not my daughter!”

“Is she mine!??” asks JFK, as if it’s more than possible in reality.

“NO!!!” yells God at JFK.

“Awkward. Because she is.” says Lem’s demon impersonator.

“Yeah! That’s so Lem!” says a group of gay men in the Illuminati.