“Lane Pryce In Lagos”

(May 6th, 2024)

Lane Pryce…would have joined the Black Panthers had he not died in a Jaguar. Why!? Because his Black girlfriend actually was one of his soulmates.

“You’re not getting paid enough.” she says to him.

“I-I know.” he says.

“Honey…why!?” she asks him.

“Because.” he says.

“They don’t value you the way I do.” she says.

He smiles and laughs.

“You remind me of my first boyfriend. He was Nigerian.” she says. “Nigerian.”

“What!?” says Lane.

“Sweetie…I think race is real. You’re white and I’m Black…but…are we more alike than…they understand?” she asks him.

“Who!?” he says.

“Well…I dunno. Professors. Experts.” she says.

Lane cracks-up laughing. “You think I should join the Black Panthers or something? You think they’re discriminating against me at work!?”

“YES.” she says, laughing.

He laughs. Thinks. “My GOD.” he says. He thinks.

And so Lane researches it and discovers that he indeed is genetically similar to some Nigerians. Using Nazi Eugenics. So…as much as he’s white…he’s more similar to some Nigerians.

“In Nigeria…they recognize me as a very smart man.” he says. “And…I feel alive.”

And so him and his Playboy Bunny girlfriend are famously a couple. Because she wanted that prestige. And so she agreed to make their relationship very public. And with her popularity they became…well…a couple. Not post-race. Not post-truth.

“Because you think…you’re Nigerian!?” asks a white man.

“I am. Genetically.

But you know…that’s compared to other white men of British descent.” says Lane Pryce.

Nigeria laughs.

“So are you Nigerian!??” asks a white man, in shock.

“Maybe!” says Lane Pryce. “Except, I’m not. Am I?”

And not being completely hateful some members of the Black Panthers trust Lane. And so they honor and work with him to make the world better for Blacks…but…with the acknowledgment that there are white people who need their justice. Because as white men…they as humans…need “the defense” for their own safety. To protect their own wives and families that might be both white and Black at times. Or more Black than white. Or again, both.

“Do you believe we’re living in a post-race America?” asks William Buckley of Lane Pryce.

“No. It’s not like that.

Race is a starting place. But we’re all human.

First and foremost…I’m British.” says Lane Pryce.

William Buckley smiles.

“But I’m also a man. And a lover.

And my wife is Black.” says Lane Pryce.

“Do you see that as a problem?” asks William Buckley.

“No! She’s the love of my life.

You know…I’m also Nigerian.” he says.

William Buckley stares at him in shock.

“It’s been studied. …Except I’m also still what I said I was before.” says Lane Pryce.

“British.” says William Buckley.

“Yes!

Where do you think the British came from?” says Lane Pryce.

“But you still think race exists?” says William Buckley.

“It does. Simple as that.

But you know…they’re making great strides in genetics. And someday I hope we can all decided we’re humans.” says Lane Pryce. “Because I’m quite sure we are. Or are supposed to be? What is human, you know?”

Lighthouse by Patrick Watson plays as Jesus is our only true lighthouse. There is no other true lighthouse.

“But we can’t get help sexually?” asks a Charismatic.

“No! The singer might be confused by that in this song…buts it’s a song.” says Lacey. “And he’s merely a singer. Not Jesus.”

A Nigerian man cries over Lane.

“I was in London. During that episode.” says Lacey.

“You watched it in London?” asks an Englishwoman.

“Yes!” says Lacey.

“What was that like?” asks someone.

“I scoffed. A bit. Because…I couldn’t believe they had been gross and evil enough to kill him off. …Either as writers or characters. Or something.” says Lacey.

“Why did we kill him off?” asks a woman in Pennsylvania.

“He was Lem. Lem acted like him. They’re both straight, tall, burly, bespectacled men. With voices that aren’t gay. It’s…just their male, British voices. As big men. Big, British, bespectacled men.

But…while we were willing to be honest and let him be straight, and…sad…and lonely for female companionship, while he also preferred teacups…he…scares us.” says Ohio.

“I agree.” says Vermont.

“So why did we kill him?” asks Hollywood.

They think.

“You know what!??” yells Italy. “I KNOW WHAT IT IS!!!!”

“What is it!?” yells Bobby Kennedy Junior.

“LEM AND LANE LIKED BOOBIES!!” yells Italy.

Casi laughs. Excuses herself from the conversation.

“Okay!?” says Joe I..

“Fine! But we like sex!!” yells JFK.

Heart To Heart by Mac DeMarco plays.

“Well…they do too.” says Italy to JFK.

“Not really!” says JFK.

“Well…I’m not so sure about that.” says Don Draper. “He…might have liked sex more than you do.”

Jack thinks.

Italy laughs.

Fire for You by Cannons plays.

“They killed Jack off because-“ says Massachusetts.

“No!! They killed off Lane.” says Hollywood.

“Oh. Well…okay.

Ahh…” starts Massachusetts.

“Yeah!

We killed them off because-“ says Ohio.

“Because of BOOBS!” says Italy.

William Buckley laughs.

“Actually….Lem does probably like boobs.” says Casi. She bites her fist. “It’s…never mind.” she says.

“No. Casi….enlighten us.” says Italy.

“Lacey has good boobs. So do I. Okay? I used to compare us. She’s got…Art Deco boobs. I’ve got…some other type. But it’s kind of a thing. Men…sometimes like boobs.” says Casi, shrugging.

“Casi why did you wear Chanel No. 22!?!” says a bisexual man. “It’s not your era!”

“Because I know she smells good in La Petit Robe Noire.” says Casi, crying.

“Or does she!?” yells Lane Pryce.

Casi closes her eyes and looks disturbed.

“Lem doesn’t like me.” says Casi.

“You’re right! But the Kennedys did.

You know…they’re not really Chanel though. They’re…aiming to be Guerlain. But they’re not.” says Lem.

“So La Petite Robe Noire was my perfume!?” asks Casi.

“Or Candy!” says Lacey.

“Yeah.” says Casi. “Or…something green.”

“Yes!” says Lacey. “I love green scents. But I’m not sure they’re my thing.”

“You though Ma Griffe was?” says Casi.

“In a way. But…not really.” says Lacey. “It’s not really me. But…there’s a part of my personality that’s like that.”

Casi laughs.

“Why do the British do that!?” says Casi. “It’s so confusing.”

“You do it too!” says Lacey. “With La Petite Robe Noire.”

Casi thinks. “But you’re just a Floris violet. And I’m…Sicily or something. Or Amazone by Hermes. Or something. Fine! …Are we trying to be our idealized selves or what?”

“Why did we leave Lacey alone with lesbians?” asks Lane Pryce. “Her whole life.”

“We eat well. She’s chill. Ahh….we think. Ahh….and she’s straight. So there’s not a hell of a lot we can do to hurt her all that much.” says a lesbian. “Or she can hopefully defend herself.”

“Yeah. We have great perfume.

But…how was she ever supposed to find love?” asks Casi.

“We didn’t care. We didn’t notice.” says a lesbian.

“Casi. That’s what the DIAMONDS are for.” says Bentley & Skinner.

Casi thinks.

“So she wears Chanel No. 19 to feel as tough as her mom. Her real mom. To be strong for herself. Because she’s…her.

And I wear La Petite Robe Noire to seem like her. And seem more feminine.

But there are plenty of men who prefer me.

And lots who don’t.

I’m not the ideal.

But…I should…wear No. 19. And La Pausa.” says Casi.

“Or Jersey.” says Lacey. “Or Iris Poudre.

I…don’t actually wear perfume that well.”

“So Chanel No. 5 smells good on you!” says Casi.

“Yes.” says Lem.

“So you look elegant. Braless in a beaded flapper gown. And sexy. But I look…just sexy.” says Casi.

“Yes. You’re a vicious thief.” says Lacey. “But…be honest…are you as confused as me?”

“About what?” asks Casi.

Lacey thinks. “Why is everyone enabling us?”

Casi goes crosseyed. Closes her eyes.

“Boobs.” says Italy.

“Speaking of which…” says Ohio. “I think Land Pryce’s sexuality scared Matthew Weiner.”

“It did.” says Iran.

“We didn’t like boobs like Great Britain.” says Nazi Germany, thoroughly confused.

“That’s NOT TRUE!” yells JFK, panicking.

Iran laughs. “To be honest…they might not have.”

“God is a chemist.” says Israel.

In reality, in our universe…in the spring of 2007 Lacey Banks worked at the Messiah College Murray Library. She loved working at a library. She easily could have been a librarian. Matter-of-fact she thinks like a librarian.

Anyway…she met Brian Bargh through Lauren Maupin. And Brian was the grandson of the inventors of the Atom Bomb. Both his grandparents worked with Robert Oppenheimer on the Manhattan Project. Like Dutch Old Money’s farm…was used to name a bomb.

“I kept calling you a bomb.” says Chris Hayes, to Lacey. “When we first started talking. I wonder why I intuited that.”

And at that a huge metal tube rolls down a hill aimed at no one in particular. But Lacey directs it at someone who might die and not go to Hell.”

“We did.” says God.

“But yes, we’re using her brain.” says a dead woman from West Virginia.

Alone in Kyoto by Air plays.

“To do what!?” says Bobby.

“Well! Hello Mr. President!” mockingly says West Virginia to Bobby.

In 2007 Brian Bargh eyed Lacey at a party. And Lacey thought, ‘His eyes look like Bobby Kennedy.’ And she meant Bobby Kennedy Senior. And then she was working at the Murray Library, where she was and one night he approached her and gave her a note and then ran off.

It said, “You’re the most beautiful girl in the whole school!” and then said a bunch of other stuff. And he asked her out to the spring formal. But…it was a disaster.

Brian was a math genius. But he was very short. And small. And it was weird for Lacey. And he got mad at her because she didn’t like it.

Also…the most beautiful girl in the whole school?!? Maybe. But it also sounded like a possible trick to mock her.

“My mommy was the most beautiful girl in the whole school.” says Bobby Kennedy Senior about Lacey.

“She’s not your mommy!” says an African little boy his age.

“Oh!!” says Bobby. “Well she’s somebody’s mommy.”

“Yeah. But she’s not our mommy, Bobby!” says Ethel.

“Then why am I doing this!??” he asks Ethel.

“Because my grandfather thought I needed help.” says Brian, rolling his eyes.

“No! That’s not why.

Because he was being used.” says a dead woman.

“We were using my father?” asks Bobby.

“Do to what!?” asks Lane Pryce.

“The British are always way ahead.” says Brian Bargh. “I said that the night of the Spring Fotmsl to Lacey and I’ll say it now.”

“We weren’t using you!” says the UK to Brian Bargh.

Cruel World by Phantogram plays.

“We weren’t either!” says Tsar Putin.

Brain drives through the dark night to the Spring Formal. Confused.

“Then who was using me!?” asks Brian.

“What if I did?” asks Dr. Schoettle. “She had a crush on me.”

“Why him!?!?” asks Lacey.

“Because he’s…so smart!” says Dr. Schoettle.

“But he’s too small.” says Lane Pryce.

“So was I!” says Bobby.

“Right. So…why are we discussing this?” asks Lacey.

“Tim…it wasn’t just you. Someone else had and possibly had and has an axe to grind.” says the CIA.

“She’s petite. But it’s a large petite. So…it’s appealing. But then you hold her while dancing and realize…you’re just a small man, after all.” says Brian Bargh.

“But that’s the experience most men have!” says a living man.

“Yeah. But you see her and think, ‘She’s petite.’” says Brian. “It’s an ego thing.”

“In reference to other men?” asks Dr. Schoettle. “Well I’m no Tsar Vladimir!”

“Did you find Lacey attractive?” asks Tsar Putin.

“Yes! I lied about it to her.” says Dr. Schoettle.

“WHAT!??” yells Brian.

Tim Schoettle laughs. Can’t stop laughing. “She’s not Lem in the sense of being him as an individual person. And wow! Can she write!”

“How’s that!?” asks NBC.

“She wrote me a love letter.” says Tim Schoettle. “It was…poignant, provocative, thought-provoking, sexy, damning, shaming, humorous…uplifting…treacherous…astounding…life-altering. Life-altering.”

“Yeah. That was my experience with her love letter.” says Brian Duffield. “She helped inspire my first major work of fiction with her love letter to me.”

“She wrote one to me too.” says Hamilton.

“Who?” asks Sherwood Anderson.

“Hamilton Anderson.” says Hamilton. He laughs.

“So they just never work out.” says Dmitry.

“No! Turns out I’m a good writer, in a way.

But…men don’t like love letters, unless you’re gay. Or they’re in love with you and write one to you first. …Or you’re Scott.” says Lacey.

“Why does Scott like them?” asks Dr. Schoettle.

“Because he likes to think.” says Lacey.

“Lacey do you like writing men love letters?” asks Adam Sandler.

Lacey thinks. “No! But I love it in a way.”

“In what way!?” asks the CIA.

“It’s wonderful to put your thoughts down on paper. …There’s something cathartic about it. It gives you objective perspective.” says Lacey.

“But you declare love for us.” says Hamilton.

“So!?” says Lacey.

“So…as men we take that very seriously.” says Tim Schoettle.

“Right. So!?” says Lacey.

“So…we read way too much into both your and Lem’s letters. If Lem’s letters even existed.” says Tim Schoettle.

“Not necessarily. He never wrote sex letters. I…wrote thoughtful letters.” says Lacey. “His letters weren’t love letters either.”

“Then what the fuck was the point of these letters?” asks Tim Schoettle.

“To make you think! Because I cared. And I think you benefited. Right?” says Lacey.

“We did.” says Tim.

“Good!” says Lacey.

“But then what- What did you get out of it?” asks Tim.

“Nothing but sadness. But I’m glad it made you happy.” says Lacey.

“So…why write them!?” asks Skull & Bones.

“To gain insight.” says Lacey.

“Into what!?” asks NBC.

“Life! Living. Their feelings about me.” says Lacey.

“So you wrote thought provoking letters…gauged their response and then decided they weren’t into you.” says Israel.

“Yes! It was almost impossible to read them otherwise. And they at least gave me enough information to go on after that.” says Lacey.

“So you got over us?” says Tim Schoettle.

“Yes! Of course. Of course I would!” says Lacey.

“Then those were suicide letters!!” yells the perfume community.

“I wasn’t threatening suicide!” says Lacey.

“No!! Not at all.” says Tim Schoettle.

“No. It was…pondering.” says Lacey.

“But with the intent of suicide!” says the perfume community.

Lacey thinks. “I never threatened suicide!”

“She really didn’t.” says Tim Schoettle.

“FINE! But…the idea was that you were…serious.” says the perfume community.

“Yes!! So?” says Lacey.

“Lacey! That’s suicide.” says the perfume community.

“Well…on a deeper level. But…that’s…way above most people.” says Lacey.

“So…you were suicidal.” says Tim Schoettle.

“Yes. In a way. Because men are…cold.” says Lacey. “And feminine. And stupid. And useless to me.”

He thinks.

“They have been.” he says.

“Yeah. And maybe they are. Isn’t that AWFUL, you coward?” says Lacey.

“I did want you.” he says.

“Why did you torture me with it!?? Am I shit to you?” says Lacey.

“No. …I didn’t think it mattered.” he says.

“What!? So all that starring into each other’s eyes and shit she described to me was real!? I told her she was childish and inexperienced and weird.” says a male friend of hers.

“Men do that when they’re aroused.” says Dr. Schoettle.

“No. They don’t!” says the guy Lacey knew.

“Have you had normal sex!??” asks the CIA.

“Barely.” he admits.

“We only hold our students to the highest standards of Christian decency.” says Messiah University.

The Last Resort by Trentmøller plays.

“It’s a good Christian school.” says Messiah University. “One of the best.”

“Did you tell her she was crazy?” the CIA asks Tim Schoettle.

“Yes. In so many words.

I said, ‘I don’t assess my students that way.’” admits Dr. Schoettle.

“That’s bullying of her. Why?” asks the CIA.

“Because! …I said we could be friends. And she could come by my office. And we could talk.” says Dr. Schoettle.

“What did she say?” asks the CIA.

“She told me to fuck off.

*He laughs.*

Well not really. But in so many words. She called me a lecherous snake with no brain, in so many words.” says Tim Schoettle. “She accused me of flirting mindlessly and unknowingly like a horny ape with all of my female students.”

“And you did flirt too much?” asks the CIA.

“Yes!” he says.

“Yeah. It’s an easy habit.” says another professor.

“Why did you lie to her?” asks the CIA.

“Because…I didn’t know what to think in regard to her worth.” says Dr. Schoettle.

“Her WORTH!!??” yells the CIA.

Chris Hayes looks baffled.

“In what context!?” he says, laughing.

“She’s not that great!” says Dr. Schoettle.

“Huh. What’s wrong with her?” asks Chris Hayes.

“She’s a Rockefeller, easily. I mean..she really turned me on. But…I’m- I wasn’t impressed.” says Tim Schoettle.

“This is why Britain has a class system.” says Lane Pryce. “I could marry her. So why can you?”

“Yeah. You are a genius, Lane.” says Don Draper.

Lane’s first wife smiles.

“Her waist was…so….round. Like…she had hips and she looked like:

So…this is what she’d look like naked, so to speak:

Yeah. That’s really her body’s almost exact shape. She’s well bred. Her father was obviously old. …But…ewww. I don’t like it.” says Tim Schoettle. “I’m young. Right? And cool. And…you know? Now.”

“But she’s hot.” says the CIA.

“I can ignore that. I often do. It’s part of being Christian. …And…so what if her and Marilyn are superior? …Global warming! So who gives a shit!?” he says.

“They’re superior but they’re also…old fashioned. Did that bother you?” asks Arthur Miller.

“No more than it bothered her that I seemed effeminate.” says Tim. “I am effeminate compared to Lem.”

“Yeah. But as much as they’re more fit…if there wasn’t Global Warming would we look more like them?!” asks a reader.

“FUCK YOU!” he says.

“Why does that make you angry?” she asks.

“Because…I like how we look.” he says.

The reader rolls her eyes.

“I killed Marilyn Monroe.” says JFK. “Because Lem thought she was hot.”

“That’s what my wife looks like.” says Tim.

“Hold on. Lacey. Did you process what Jack just said!?” asks the perfume community.

“Yes. I’m not hearing much interest. So I’m letting it go.” says Lacey, laughing slightly.

“But that’s a big deal.” says Chanel.

“Yup. But it means Lem’s straight and was…so it’s too much for them process. Or they hate it? I don’t know.” says Lacey.

“What do you prefer about that!?” asks a living actress.

“I’m not as hot as Marilyn. It’s OBVIOUS.

And it’s shit.

But I will be someday. But I’m not now. I’m just not. But I’m still me. And you can’t be me. So…sorry. But you can be you. So…what’s your problem?” asks Kim Kardashian.

“But I like you more!” says Tim.

“But Tim…I DON’T!” says Kim. “Tim what did your people do to us!?”

“I love this look! It’s so pretty!

I’m hot. But…I want this. Like…I want me. I want to be me. Fresh and new! But…with this too.

Why did you all kill these people off?” asks Kim.

“Kim…that’s an excellent question!!” yells the dead psychiatrist from Pittsburgh.

“It’s because men are evil and greedy. But mostly just evil.” says Louis. “And so are women at times.”

“I’ll answer your question on the next post.” says Scott.