Let’s analyze that stupid song.
Lacey…if I was Tom Jones…and I wanted to get you off the streets on dates with other guys…what would I say? He’s basically just crying to her.
The first part is okay.
“It’s not unusual to be loved by anyone
It’s not unusual to have fun with anyone
But when I see you hanging about with anyone
It’s not unusual to see me cry
I wanna die
It’s not unusual to go out at any time
But when I see you out and about it’s such a crime
If you should ever wanna be loved by anyone
It’s not unusual.”
The rest is rot.
“What should he say?” asks Lem.
“It happens every day
No matter what they say
You’ll find it happens all the time Yet love will never do what we want it to
Why can’t this crazy love be mine?
It’s not unusual to be mad at anyone
It’s not unusual to be sad with anyone
But if I ever find that you’ve changed at any time
It’s not unusual to find that these tears are mine
Whoa-whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh
Whoa-whoa, oh-ohh
Whoa-whoa, oh-oh-oh-oh, whoa
Whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa” says Lacey.
“Yeah.” says Lem. “But why did…you not realize I meant it?”
“Because that’s utter rubbish.” says Lacey.
Lem thinks. “When would it not be?”
“Possibly never.
According to ‘experts’ men are all worthless whorish jokes.” says Lacey.
“Do we ever understand anything?” asks Lem.
“No. You all just constantly fart in your faces. Like meaningless Hellish dogs. That’s what the ‘experts’ say.” says Lacey.
“So Jack and I made human extermination look sexy.” says Lem.
“Yes!!! No, not sexy. LIKE HEAVEN.” says Lacey.
“Yes. He BEGGED for us all to be killed.” says Lem.
“Well! He’s your best friend so-“ says Lacey. “The best friend humanity’s ever had. Right!? A worthless piece of shit?”
“I should have let him die.” says Lem. “That was so foolish. But I was kid.
His family was going to let him die. And I should have realized they were doing that intentionally. And that maybe he was…not…normal. Or that they were possibly very evil.
But I made it normal. Because I was brainwashed to make it normal not…complicated and scary.
I wish I had just let him die. Like they wanted.” says Lem. “I think they knew he was slightly sociopathic and they were trying to let him die.” He thinks. “They weren’t necessarily as abusive as your parents. They were…ruthless. Joe was anyway. And I think he was trying to let Jack die. As a child. To save him from Hell.
But they let it go. And let him survive. Survival of the Fittest.
But what the fuck do you care? I’m sorry.” says Lem.
“You could have just shot him.” says Lacey.
“Yeah.” says Lem. “So…you operate solely on logic?”
“Yes. People don’t love me Lem.” says Lacey.
“No. They don’t.” says Lem. “They do love our kids though.”
“Yes!” says Lacey.
“Lacey…what is sex like…if you’re constantly that logical?” asks Lem.
“Don’t take away my soul.” says Lacey.
“Right. So…it’s romantic?” says Lem.
“Yes.” says Lacey.
And at that he experiences her perspective. Because he can because he’s dead.
Later.
(Adult content below)
“You had sex.” says Lem.
“Did I?” asks Lacey.
“Yeah?” says Lem.
Lacey waits.
“Do you really not recall any of that? Almost at all?” asks Lem.
“Yes.” says Lacey.
“I think…it was pointless.” says Lem.
“No. Worse.” says Lacey.
“Yes. That’s what I mean.” says Lem.
“So why did you let it happen?” asks Lacey.
He laughs. Drinks root beer.
“I couldn’t stop it.” he says.
“Why!?” asks Lacey.
“Because they’ve forced you to be constantly nice to them on penalty of perverse rape and heinous torture.” says Lem to Lacey. “And that’s just one tiny portion of it. There are other reasons too.” He thinks. “The main reason is because I can’t communicate with you due to evil spiritual forces preventing it. And you can’t easily remove them. They’re other people. Essentially.”
“I’m sorry.” says Lacey.
“I’m not that angry. I’m more…sad.
What…did you do that for them for?” says Lem.
“I’m not understanding.” says Lacey.
“Why…are you doing them such a huge favor!??” says Lem.
Lacey thinks.
“It made sense.” says Lacey, sadly.
“That’s true. But…it didn’t really make sense.” says Lem.
“Why?” asks Lacey.
“Because you’re worth so much more than that.” says Lem.
“But they don’t know that.” says Lacey.
“Well…I can’t help but think that they sort of know that.” says Lem. “But maybe not as well as they should.”
“The sense I get is that I’m…ugly to them.” says Lacey.
“Do you ever feel pretty during sex?” asks Lem.
“I take men’s word for it. But no. That’s never been my experience. Men have sex with mud.” says Lacey.
“So…why…do you think they’re really having sex with you?” asks Lem.
“Well…I try to assume the best. And take their word for it.
But…probably just because. Or some dumb reason.” says Lacey.
“And yet they get off every time.” says Lem.
“Yes!” says Lacey.
“I’ve been unfathomably too harsh with you, possibly.” says Lem. “Heartless.”
She’s silent.
“So you don’t…think you have a choice.” says Lem.
“No!” says Lacey.
“Could you have really been with them for eternity though!?” he asks.
“I don’t know.” says Lacey. “Or I didn’t know.”
“Well I know you couldn’t.” says Lem. “They- It’s nothing like what we have.”
“No. But-“ she shrugs.
“After what happened with Jack? Who knows? Right?” says Lem.
“Well…lots of people.” says Lacey.
“So…turns out…I’m hurt. But more for you than me.
I’m better than all those guys.” says Lem.
“Then why?” asks Lacey.
“Yeah.” says Lem.
She’s silent.
“He’s right. It’s easy.” says Lem. “There’s no competition.”
“Is that depressing as a man?” asks Lacey.
“No!” says Lem. “It’s not unattractive. Or anything like that.
Lacey I’m just better than them.”
“I can’t see that.” says Lacey.
“What if you could?” asks Lem.
“Then-“ says Lacey.
“Yes. I’d be clearer. As a straight man I’d be clearer. …I think you fell in love with me thinking I had been gay or…something. And I seemed very lovable. But…as much as that actually does make sense…it’s not who I was. I wasn’t gay.
So…it’s harder to know who I am. But…I am…still me. Just not…quite who you think. So…I’m better than them.” says Lem.
“But then I’m going to start wondering why you’d like me.” says Lacey.
“You look past all my flaws. And you don’t even have any!
What…do you think is so repulsive about you!?” asks Lem.
“My clothes are wrinkled. And all wrong.
My hair is wrong. It’s just all messed-up.
My house is a mess.
But mostly I’m boring.” says Lacey. “I’m just astoundingly unlovable and boring.”
“Why do you think you’re unlovable?” asks Lem.
“Because…I irritate people. All the time. I’m an obnoxious pest. To most living people.
They just can’t handle me. I’m ridiculous to them. That’s all I’ve ever been told. By any adult. That I’m gross, annoying and evil. Not because I really am. But because I’m just so…damn…disgusting. Why am I disgusting? Honestly? I don’t know. But it seems…vile to them. Not evil in a real sense. Necessarily. But more…like they’re scared of me…and they wish I’d just go away. No concern for me. No worry. I’m just a bother.
I know I’m beautiful. But…it’s complicated. It’s really, really hurtful to people. Or it’s too arousing. They don’t ever seem to appreciate it. They can’t even seem to consider just appreciating the aesthetics of me. Like a normal person, so to speak. It’s more that I’m…unlovable.
There are times I’ve wondered if my specific beauty is…off-putting somehow. But I like my beauty. So… There’s nothing wrong with it, I don’t think. It’s not evil. You know…it’s old-fashioned. But…I’ve met men who look like Rupert Brooke who are straight or bisexual and they’re very popular. There aren’t men who look like you. But…am I like you? Is my beauty that incomprehensible to them? Because not all old looks are completely outdated.
And I know they’d reject you too. They see you in your proper clothes. But if you had to actually live nowadays and be yourself with them…and wear their clothes…you’d be rejected.” says Lacey.
“Yes. That’s fact.
They’d reject me more than they reject you.” says Lem. “Don’t ask them to understand this. They’d claim that this isn’t true. But it is true. They’d totally reject me. My bones and skin and overall look would baffle them.” says Lem. “And I’m not as objectively good-looking as you.”
“And I’m boring.” says Lacey.
“Those are both wrong. Let’s take a break.” says Lem. “NOW!”
Later.
“Who’s life am I living!??” says Lacey.
“Ours. God makes it all work.” says Lem. “But it’s bad.
So…you’re not unlovable, really. And no, it’s all just… You’re not at all gross. They’d think I was too. I had unusual eyes. And an unusual neck. And I was very tall. You love all those things. A lot. But they would not.” says Lem. “You’d miss them.”
“Am I with you?” asks Lacey.
“Yes!” he says.
“Of course I find you attractive. I’m more worried about me.” says Lacey.
“You’re extremely attractive.” says Lem. “No. It’s rubbish.
You’re…different than most women today. Lacey…you’re extremely beautiful. And you’re not at all aware of that in a way.
It makes no difference what I was. You’re talking to ghosts. And we’re sleeping together regularly. Both literally and figuratively. You’re not hearing anything from anyone who’s me…other than me. And you should be. You heard from both Patricia Wilson and Athalia when you worried you were one of them reincarnated. It took years but you eventually heard from them. We’ve been communicating for over four years. Every day almost for three years. That’s extremely weird if I’m not Lem Billings. It’s almost…near impossible, possibly. I showed you my apartment. And you didn’t even know what it looked like. It’s…very unlikely I’m gay now. Actually it’s impossible, if I’m Lem, that I’m gay now or remotely interested in Jack. I’ve slept with you so many times. If I’m playing him he’s an idiot to stay with me. An absolute idiot. We sleep to almost every night and have been for years now. He never did that to me. If he had I’d have thought the relationship I thought existed was…impossible. He ruined any connection we could have had…and the relationship would have been worthless but what we do would make a relationship with anyone else…completely impossible.
I had a gay voice but no…I wasn’t gay. I had a gay look but it was an imitation.” says Lem.
And if there’s reincarnation in the Bible Lacey recalls how music works. As an Egyptian while listening to Jump Around. She still recalls how to affect time and space with music.
“If I’m the AntiChrist…welcome to the end.” jokes Jeff Bezos. “Of the world.”
“Do we have to worship you?” asks a Christian.
“No!!
Actually…what did God mean by that? Do you worship me? What does it mean to worship someone?” says Jeff Bezos. “Look…maybe it’s not The End Times. But…if I’m convincing you maybe you should be far more careful with your theology!”
The song repeats.
“This is dangerous!” says Rupert Brooke.
“This is why you all needed to leave us alone!!!” yells Lem.
Daphne DuMaurier tries to join Lacey.
“I can’t do it. Because I’m dead. But…it’s…real. Lacey…it’s real.” she says.
“But am I Scotia!? Or did I just figure it out?” asks Lacey.
“Maybe we like you as Scotia. You do look like her.” says Ancient Egypt.
“If I could be myself…it’s fascinating.” says Lacey.
“You are right.” says Ancient Egypt.
Later.
Hush by The Marías plays.
“Do you relate to this song?” asks a reader.
“She’s a narcissistic fucking idiot and he’s a robot.” says Lacey.
Rupert laughs. “It’s a sex song about a weirdo and a sex robot.”
Lacey laughs.
“She’s so mean to him.” says Lacey.
“You don’t mean that literally?” a reader asks Lacey.
“No!” says Lacey. “But that’s what it sounds like.”
“Does that irritate you?” asks a reader.
“Yes.” says Lacey.
She laughs. “That poor robot. He’s just running in circles.
And I think he’s imitating her narcissism now.”
Later.
“You’re too sexual.” says Lem to Lacey. “For Millennials. You scared them.
I would have seemed that way too.
No. Lacey we have monogamy.
But we’re too sexual.
Your literal mathematical proportions read as fertile to the male eye. And they sense your ability to create children. But it’s not like them. And I’d have seemed…mature and sexy to some people…but also…too…manly. And they’d have assumed I was a huge pervert somehow. Actually it could be why some people think I was gay.” says Lem.
Keen to Cross the Pond 