“I Can’t Stand It” by Lem

(July 26th, 2024 – Early Morning)

My most famous quotation? You’ve misunderstood it. And…I’m livid.

See…you’re supposed to view what I said through the eyes of the culture in which I said it. And you’ve gotten it all monstrously wrong now for decades. It’s a sin whoever first intentionally misunderstood it and led everyone else astray. They knew you’d believe them and not get it. And that was far more sinister than they’d ever admit to…or possibly than they understood.

Let’s analyze it.

“You know Jack made a big difference in my life.”

Wow! That’s a bold statement. I sound incredibly in love, possibly. …In 1981 or 1979 or whenever I said this people would have leapt at the thought that I might be saying I had been in love with Jack. That first sentence is a huge deal. I really leading you into a bold statement potentially. Hold…on…to…your…hats!

But then…I continue. Hmm.

“Thanks to him I was never lonely.”

…Okay. That’s…really bold. …Wow. Hmm. Back then that was really bold. …And one wonders where it’s going. Because…people didn’t say stuff like this. I was making a huge statement. …Or was I? I mean…it’s almost getting too bold. …And then I drop the bomb.

“I mean…I could of had a wife and family, but what the Hell.”

…Ahh…you have to realize I wasn’t out. I was not out of the closet. I repeat: I was NOT out of the closet.

I repeat: I WAS NOT OUT OF THE CLOSET.

So…you can’t interpret it through that lens. …And that’s a mistake you Princeton University educated Gen. Z gay men have made within the last ten years. It’s embarrassing. And pathetic.

It all makes me very sad.

It’s one of the reasons Lacey thinks Ivy League schools are suspicious.

…So…you have to realize…I wasn’t out of the closet. And that means you can’t take it that way. You have to force your brain to stop thinking that I was openly gay or you’ll never get what I mean or the actual nuance of what I’m saying. …And you can’t assume I could not have had a wife and family. …People back then would never have assumed that I couldn’t have had one. Why!? There was no good reason. I had perfect functioning penis. …And if I said I could have one…then you’d have to assume back then that I meant it. Men were given respect back then. You didn’t automatically doubt everything people said. …People were taken seriously back then. …At least to some degree. Okay!? …I mean come on!

So…because I wasn’t out of the closet…and I am saying I could have…you have to at least try to take me seriously. You can’t open and shut assume I’m talking about closeted homosexuals. How could I be!?! I AM STILL CLOSETED. Gay men’s magazines that miss that intellectual nuance, we’ll call it…are dumb. …They are the stuffy ones nowadays in society. They are the uptight ones. …And they presume far too much.

…So…let’s continue. I’m claiming all of the sudden…that I could have had a wife and family. Wow. Okay. Well…that’s sad.

Why is it sad? Because…I’m probably in my 50’s or 60’s saying this. And I’m living alone. …For a man who’s in his 50’s or 60’s to say, “I mean I could have had a wife and family.” is…pathetic. …I sound pathetic. …Men used to say stuff like that when they were “down.” They used to call it being “down.” And “down” meant that I was “in the dumps.” And “down” and “in the dumps” means that I was very depressed. Drinking, drug addiction. Suicidal thoughts. Possible promiscuity or anxiety to the point where you’d sit alone in your house all day. Possible sadness to the point where you’d sit alone all day. Starring at a television. Wondering what you’re living for. …Or maybe no sex at all. Maybe just…coffee…drugs…cigarettes…and take-out.

See. Even reading this you have to put it in it’s honest, proper context. *wink* …Am I a ghost? Hmm. Yeah…I’m claiming to be. But you’re supposed to have an adult mind if you’re an adult and be able to sort that out regardless. You know? …It’s all that kind of thing.

…So…I go from saying all this…edge-of-your-seat stuff about Jack. Fond, schmaltzy stuff. …To saying…”I mean I could have had a wife and family but what the hell!” …Why did I need to add that!? That’s…abrasive. I’m not out the closet. Okay!? Remember!? …And so…adding that makes no sense. …I’m NOT OUT OF THE CLOSET. It sounds…like I’m…in serious depression. And I’m starting to “flip-out” publicly. “Flipping out” means being to openly emotional for public. …No! I’m NOT making a statement about homosexual marriage! HOW COULD I BE!?!? I WAS NEVER OUT!!!! …What I’m doing is bemoaning my fucked-up life sharply after going on and on about how much Jack meant to me. It’s twist!

…But I don’t stop even there. I could have. And you’d have been grappling with what I meant forever. Was I sad? Was I happy? …What did I even mean!? …But no. I keep talking. And I add it on to “I mean I could have had a wife and family, but what the hell.”

I say, “What would have made me a happier life!?”

Happier? Yeah. I’m sad. I’m pathetically sad. I’m actually subtly bringing up the topic of happiness. It’s the elephant in the room back then. Why I never married bothered people. And let me remind you again: I WAS NOT OPENLY GAY. It was NOT to be understood that I was gay. It was not to be understood that I was talking about homosexuality at all necessarily. …Not necessarily at all.

So…what would have made me a happier life!?! Let me remind you that people thought, sincerely thought, getting married and settling down and having a family was the best thing anyone could ever do. Ever! We based our entire conversation as a culture on that premise. We lived and died on that premise. …SO…keep that in mind. And yet again, NO I’m not openly gay. I’m not saying I’m happy I didn’t get married. That’s LUDICROUS! …I could potentially be hinting at that. But you’d have to think that I’m hinting at that because of what I said in context. …And maybe that’s actually impossible. Let’s keep going.

…“…to be Jack Kennedy’s best friend…”

Hmm. Remember I’m not out. …So…what the hell do I mean by best friend? Well…I could easily mean a mere best…friend. …That’s already a shit life. …Giving up sex with a woman!?! Giving up kids!? To be someone’s BEST FRIEND!? Yuck. …That’s disgusting. …We could easily end this analysis here but because people today are so naive, and sheltered, and dumb, and gross, and self-serving, and hateful and rude and cold and dangerous and…uneducated and ignorant….we’ll continue.

…My family did complain to me frequently about my life. Don’t forget that. Their complaints often were on my mind.

So…it’s not lookin’ too good. However…maybe I was gay? …That’s what someone might have been thinking. They might have been hopeful I was just gay. And by “best friend” I meant something else. But you have to keep listening at the time to know for sure as I’m saying this. Because I’m not out. I’m not open. I DO NOT DISCUSS MY SEXUALITY. …And that’s true enough. It’s on Wikipedia. …I did not discuss it. …So…that means that I didn’t discuss it. I never said, “I’m gay.” in any way openly. To anyone. And if I did at all I was not going on about it. At all. I did not EVER give almost anyone or possibly anyone the impression truly openly or clearly that I was gay with the subtextual meaning that it was to be henceforth known between us…and if I did accidentally even I was not…in a good place with that being considered in any subtextual understanding between me and other people. …So…if you were listening at this point you’d have to be…gay…and happy with being gay in your mind….to be…hoping I was saying something happy. Because it sounds like I’m extremely depressed. …And I don’t think most people at that time would have thought I was saying something secretly “pro-gay” unless they were gay themselves. Maybe you could have been a closeted homosexual and hoped I was secretly saying something more happy. But…even then it sounds bleak.

And no. This is reality. Not a lie. Get a clue if you can’t even fathom that possibility.

…Let’s go on. Maybe it gets better.

“…to have the best friend anyone’s ever had.”

Yeah right. I can’t help but think someone listening or reading knew I was full of shit with that statement. Jack was hardly the best friend anyone’s ever had. So…I’m at my wits end…and losing my mind…or I feel like I am…or maybe this is going somewhere good? …It’s unclear. I’m either being bitterly sarcastic or…lying lovingly about the dead. Or it’s just…a little unnecessary to add.

“…to have my own room in the White House.”

This ain’t looking so good. Right? So far I’ve got a best friend and a room. …That’s still not equivalent to a wife and family.

“…to be there throughout the most historic moments of his Presidency.”

Okay! Now we’re getting somewhere. …I’m making a statement because all of these things are about shallow things. Materialistic things. A room in the White House. Very much a materialistic thing. …And some gay men might say, “Oh! But you’re hinting at intimacy!” Well…yeah??? …Okay? …I’m hinting at a gay relationship. …But I’ve said I could have had a wife and family too. …And you gave to take that seriously. …So…what really is it I’m saying? …There’s intimacy there. And yet there isn’t. …A room and being physically present isn’t necessarily all that great. And what is a “best friend”? Is it really a good homosexual relationship!? Not necessarily. …It might be. But that’s certainly not a given. …And I shared that with Jackie. Okay!? And her cult following was huge back then. HUGE. So…you have to keep that in mind. My paltry room and physical space shared with him…seems dreary by comparison. So again, what am I really saying!?

…I could have had a wife and family? Most normal adults at that time would have felt a room in the White House and being present during historic events and having a weird quasi-marriage at best…was dumb if you could have been married with kids in your own house. Millions and millions of people in my generation were extremely happy, astoundingly happy people. Settled down. Married. With kids. That happiness was the norm. …And it was real happiness. And they were my audience. NOT PEOPLE TODAY. …I was saying this when they were almost all still alive. I had no idea what 2024 was going to be like. They were my audience. Not men who would have been toddlers at the time who now write for The Advocate. The Silent Generation and The Greatest Generation were my audience. …Not open gay men in Generation X. Not open gay Millennials. There was the “Gay Rights Movement” but they were a minority. They were not my majority audience. They were not my audience to any degree beyond a minority. You have to keep that in mind! …WHO IS MY AUDIENCE!?!!

Damn the willful stupidity of today is disgusting.

…

“Why are we talking about this!?” says Jan Hertel, with compassion for all other living not straight men. He’s saying this either from the present in his spirit or in the future. “Yes! I mean why are we talking about this on this blog.”

Another male reader laughs at some point.

“I’m addressing the non-straight men. But my statement can be read by anyone. To clarify further.” says Jan Hertel.

…

So…I could be saying, “I had a gay relationship with Jack. It was…a weird friendship…and favors like a room in the White House and government jobs offered to me and shit like that.” Or I could be saying, “That’s the best stuff that worthless clingy ass ever gave me. …Taking up my time and keeping me ‘company’ this was all I got. Instead of a wife and family. …Just a cool temporary room and historic travel. And his company.”

…Given the tone of my previous statements…those things sound questionable at best. It’s unclear what I mean, at best. I could easily be very angry at Jack. And frankly he was a narcissistic loser. …They didn’t know that. But that’s who he actually was. …Or did they? Was I being passive aggressive for a reason??? At any rate, it’s actually unclear at this point. I sounded angry and you’d have to believe I was homosexual and being extremely objective or…that I knew some hidden part of him from psychology…and his wife…in calling Jack Kennedy the best friend anyone’s ever had to think I’m not still very possibly angry and extremely depressed by my life. OR…and this is where it gets good when you consider I’m writing this on a blog in 2024…you’d have to be a gay man or lesbian woman…who loved the Kennedys. Who would that have been in my audience that I was aware of? Possibly no one. But that’s who reads that statement today.

Let’s continue.

“…or to be married…”

My gosh! I delineated quite a bit about Jack. But now I’m comparing it to being “married.” Just…”married.” That’s a strong statement. And considering I wasn’t out you can’t assume it’s in favor of the homosexual life I led. …I think a lot of people have assumed that. But you can’t. To do so is intellectually shoddy at best.

“Married.” Hmm. That sounds anti-the life I led. …Or at the very least…it’s really unclear I’m actually happy. I WAS NEVER OUT. Remember?

Let’s go on.

“…and settled down.”

What does that mean? It means I’m not settled down. …It means I’m NOT. So..what was that laundry list I just delineated compared to “married and settled down.”? It isn’t being settled down. And what’s next means it isn’t living somewhere either, even though I was living somewhere. I was living in New York City. The same apartment Jack knew. The same city we frequently visited together. Why isn’t that living somewhere to me!? …Because this is an either/or. …Our choices are my life with Jack or these specific things. Which obviously implied I’m not doing them then. How odd if I was at all happy to not perceive myself as “living somewhere.”

What’s settled down? Being a mature…rational…well-adjusted adult. Why wouldn’t I have considered myself a mature, rational, well-adjusted adult? That’s…concerning. It hints at some sort of dysfunction…and it doesn’t seem like I think it’s possible with homosexual marriage actually. …Because I’m placing that in the category of being married to a woman. It’s actually the opposite of what gays of the 2010’s and 2020’s think. …I’m subtly implying that to be settled down…you have to be married to a woman when you’re a man. …Because I wasn’t out. Remember?

You’d have to think I was a childish bastard if you followed the actual statement as intended and assumed I was dating a room in the White House and Jack’s company meant more than being a mature, well-adjusted, normal adult. And I wonder if some people have thought that recently. Because there are comments from Princeton alumni that suggest people do think I was a foolish, shallow buffoon as I aged. Did they know me really? Not necessarily. And they’re very likely forcing themselves to placate people into thinking I was for sure a homosexual genuinely in love with Jack.

…Let’s continue.

“…and living somewhere.”

And living somewhere? I’m not out. So I can’t be being openly derisive of closeted people getting married. And just implied that it’s actually very mature for people to get married. And I’m making a strong statement in favor of the latter…not the former…or I’m saying I never wanted kids…never gave a shit about having my own damn house…or my own wife…and didn’t care about “living somewhere.” …Why would I not want a wife? Just as company even!? I didn’t want kids!? Really!?? …As gentle and deep and kind as I was I never thought of having kids? Or what? …I came from a family that had kids and got happily married. …Why wouldn’t I want that!??

…Why wouldn’t I want that at all. Because given the way I say this…since I wasn’t out…and I really wasn’t…it has to mean that I’m making a strong statement of hatred for marriage and kids…and settling down and living in any…way…that isn’t partying and being immature and wild in any even mildly uncool place. Like…anywhere outside of a cocaine fest in Los Angeles or a heroin den in New York City. Anywhere remotely dull and ordinary. …And that’s what I said.

I said: What’s better? Having a weird relationship with Jack? That was…creepy and hurtful and painfully awkward. But…getting to be with him. And…because he was a big deal having the stuff that comes with being in a committed relationship. You know? A room in the White House and travel. Well…not a committed relationship…but…whatever the hell we had? So…he made some time for me. And tried. …But…I gave up living any kind of normal adult life. And I had no stability or family of my own, truly. Just…temporary stuff.

Could I have possibly been implying that “life in fast lane” for homosexual love was worth it? …It’s not likely. Given the tone of the rest of the statement…and the vagueness of “and living somewhere”…it’s actually unlikely. It’s 80 to 90% likely that I was actually saying I was miserable and that Jack was obsessed with me…and that I kinda wished I’d never met him. …It sounds like I’m disparaging the Kennedys and Jack in a passive aggressive manner. Possibly patronizing them and even insulting their intelligence if they were around when I said it. …For all you know Eunice Kennedy Shriver was there when I said it…as she was my parole officer assigned by the Kennedy family, possibly, to keep an eye on me and what I’d say to the press…and she was hurt. She first heard it like I was giving Jack a huge public sexual and romantic compliment and was glowing…and then realized I was being mean later…and decided to beat me up forever with my own confusing tone? So you interpret my words the way you do because she was narcissistically wounded when I insinuated that she was a blowhard, self-worshipping dullard? Not that I didn’t enjoy joking around with her at times, as in literally making dumb jokes only an idiot or a genius might appreciate. And no, I might not have thought she was a genius.

…It sounds like I’m insulting them. Why wouldn’t I want to live somewhere? I was really that shallow and stupid!?!? I was really that emotionally stunted!? …My family loved me. I was kind. It’s…really unlikely…no impossible…anyone could drink themselves into that kind of immaturity and be a loving person to annoying spoiled children when they called you at night on the phone because they were awkward and weird kids. And that’s recorded. The Kennedy kids called me and frequently expected I would listen to them drone on and on about boring shit that was entirely about them and their youth. …And I did. And that’s recorded fact. And according to them I was “gentle and made them feel like they weren’t freaks who were being purposefully left out.” Yeah! That’s not emotionally possible for a drunkard who happily fucked Jack and got away with not killing himself by being drunk all the time since age 16. I would have cared…but not in such a…patient way. 16 year olds…can even be parents…but…they’re not raising teenagers. Babies require patience. Yes! But…listening to another teenager go on and on…and on and on…and on…and not getting bored…or being short tempered at all…is unlikely. Even for the most mature teenager. That really requires an adult mind. And maturing. An adult perspective. …I grasped their feelings from an adult perspective. And there’s other evidence to suggest I was loving and mature too. Like my family’s relationship with me. …They wouldn’t likely have been tolerant of an actual freak drug addict who had developed almost no maturity since 16 and and morphed into a jackass. No. I just wasn’t that…pathetic and shallow. And you can’t rearrange what I said to make me happily gay. You have to be honest and read what I actually said. In context.

No. I sound…negative. I sound like I’m making a huge statement against the life I led in a passive aggressive way. I wasn’t living somewhere!? …I just wanted to get high all the time? That was really better than being settled down? Because that’s what I said. I…didn’t perceive myself as “living somewhere.”

I was really that snobby towards my own family!? …I really didn’t care about settling down at all!?

…They say I was raffish to cover-up for misinterpretation and misinformation.

…Let’s think. I start off being warm then I’m cold towards Jack. No? Then my final statement sounds even worse. Because you have to read it as I paced it…in the tone I…I would have used!!!

…Even if you make it flippant and “pro-gay” at first you still have to slow it down at the end. Because I use and over and over again. I’m slowing down my thoughts to emphasize something. And the way I do it…sounds…super insulting to homosexuals in general if I sound flippant at first. EVEN IF I’M OUT.

To form the words and thought I had you have to slow down your words!!! …Even if you’re speaking quickly. There’s no debating this. This is fact.

…The thing is…by slowing down your pace…especially in saying “and living somewhere” it sounds automatically like I’m implying that that’s the life of importance. And it was. I’ve said that. My generation felt that that life was essential. And we definitely had those blessings. …That’s also recorded real history. We weren’t just a bunch of miserable old fucking idiots in shit marriages who were annoyed by our kids. That’s a God damn evil lie. And history would and does point to that. We were a lot happier! And we got married and had houses we owned with happier, healthier kids.

“Hey! Remember me? Yeah. I’m running for US President now. …My family ruined the world…? Well…now we’re going to fix it! …We created the problem? Huh. I bet you…anything…we can come up with a solution!

Makes sense? Doesn’t it?

…Vote for me! Bobby Kennedy Junior for US President in 2024! …Because if we created the problem…we can fix it!” says a woman mocking Bobby Kennedy Junior.

…So! If I could have had that life…and that last point, which is said slowly but with few words, obviously…what does that mean? You can’t say “…and living somewhere.” with an upturned voice to make it sound stupid. That’s not at all how anyone would say it.

“I’m voting for Bobby. That actually does make sense.” says a Gen. X woman, sincerely.

Well…that was actually mocking him. But…you read it as a sarcastic statement with an upside compliment. No, that’s what was intended at all. Oh well.

Anyway…

Getting back to the point of this post.

I say that last point in a serious way. And I’m not on Hard Ball. Okay? I’m not prompting a quick argument from an opponent. There’s no natural way for me to have actually said that sounds like I’m genuinely arguing against it. Do you know why? Because it’s such a strongly worded statement. …What…the hell…am I saying!? …The opposite idea of “living somewhere” is having a temporary room in the White House and knowing Jack Kennedy as a best friend. …Like I said…I wasn’t out. And…you have to really force it to sound optimistic. …And mysteriously nobody ever talks about my tone. Or who I even said it to. Or when! Certainly not where. That’s WEIRD.

Scar Tissue plays. Zelda sits in a bathtub where she once slit her wrists while alive and analyzes the song. It’s supposed to be about Lem and Lacey but…it doesn’t quite work. Zelda laughs. The dead possibly inspire living art more than you think when it’s good, if there’s Purgatory.

Otherside plays. At Lacey’s request, possibly in the future. It’s darker but better and Zelda agrees.

“All she ever had?” says Zelda to Lem. “WOw! Brilliant idea!!”

Zelda throws sand from Cape Cod in Lem’s face.

“Nice grave, bastard!” yells his sister at Lem.

“Bastard. Isn’t that Boston talk?” says Zelda’s mom.

“You fucking bastard!!” says Lacey in a fake Boston accent.

Joe Junior finds it cute. Has to excuse himself.

“It is a weird accent.” he says.

Zelda rolls her eyes.

“Wow.” says Scott. “It’s going okay Lem.” he says reassuringly, but also with some sarcasm.

“You’re just recording all this.” says Joe Junior to Lacey.

“YES! …YES!” says Saoirse, annoyed.

…

As I was saying…

I could be saying I’m in favor of my life as lived. But I start off sounding so grim. How do you go from saying the first two sentences with present moment sincerity…at that time…and not sound a bit off?

I end my argument in favor of being his plaything with watching historic moments. That’s not a strong conclusion to that portion. And regardless…what THE FUCK…am I SAYING!?

Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana plays. Zelda and Lacey like this song, despite the cover art. Because the message of the song is that important.

I’m saying that it was better to be…shit faced in my 60’s…living in a filthy apartment in Manhattan just to get high the next day. Just to have a gay-moments-on-occasion-best-friend and his meager attention? That’s an impossible emotional relationship, at least long-term. It’s mostly one-sided, and certainly unfulfilling and lethally insubstantial.

Look…try saying those first two lines…without hearing something fishy and doublespeak in the “I mean I could have had a wife and family, but what the hell.” It’s very, very difficult to pull that off without it sounding double-minded.

Tom requests Pumped Up Kicks. Tom. Matthew. Lots of dead men request it.

Actually…you can say it. But based on the lie that men don’t have any emotions or emotional needs at all and are just meaningless, thoughtless, two-dimensional pieces of workhorse, drunkard shit. As in, that’s scientifically all they are. And for a supposedly gay man who was that into art as I was…to be so…emotionally hollow is a bizarre concept. Actually…what even is friendship to me? If I’m that close to emotionless. Not that Jack and the other narcissist Kennedys didn’t believe I was emotionless. They might have. They really might have thought I was devoid of any emotions or feelings of my own. …But then I compare this supposed half-baked life to being married and settled down and living somewhere. …That’s beyond extreme.

That’s…beyond extreme. EXTREME!?!? No. …It’s…a lie.

Think about it. Empathetically.

You hear it. Take it seriously. I’ve been permanently suicidally madly in love over Jack since I met him!? …And I’m saying this IN MY 60’s!?! Or 50’s!? …How HUMAN…is that!? …So I’m constantly on high-speed emotionally, full speed ahead? No distractions. No regrets. No disturbances!?! EVER!? Even narcissists can’t do that! Nobody can be that “extreme.” I never once thought Jack was an worthless ass!? Ever!? I never ever felt my own feelings!? All those decades!? Never!?? Not once!? Even when I took a shit!? Certainly Jack didn’t distract me from feeling pain constantly with his love? I never felt pain while he was alive if I loved him? …And that pain was worth never settling down and having a family and a wife? Wow! …Except…he slept with lots of other people and got married himself with obvious love for his bride and the public premise that she was his true love, not me. …He treated me very poorly. Louis Bayard isn’t wrong about that point. …But people back then didn’t know what a worthless ass Jack was when I made that statement.

So…if I could have had a wife and family…

If I could have had a wife and family…why would I be so fucking certain? …I call him the best friend anyone ever had. That’s…a fawning, hyperbolic statement. Which should be obvious. Who says that kind of thing with the utmost seriousness and complete sincerity. No one with any sense of reality. …So…what was the actual point? Was he the best gay lover anyone’s ever had? Even if you look at it that way…it makes the marriage and family seem possibly better, in retrospect at least. What’s a temporary great gay lover over your own life? I never came out. You can’t presume I wasn’t capable of getting married and being truly married to a woman because I say I was capable. Fully capable. …So…what? He was the best pseudo-husband anyone’s ever had? Really though? That was hyperbole. Remember? Was he really that great? Even if I said it sincerely it’s still suspect. You have to assume I love him. You can’t know. …So…what did we actually have together? I don’t ever say. I could be implying a gay relationship with the references to the room in the White House and the historic travels…but…it’s unclear how good the relationship actually is. I could be covertly bragging about my sexual ability to gay men. But what was the actual relationship like? How happy are we? It’s unclear. And you’d need that to make the comparison work as I frame it in the following lines. No. That’s not what I meant to say.

You can’t really easily hear it the way you do nowadays. Not really. Which is why white old men in 2018 or so from Princeton are baffled when they analyze it. And it’s embarrassing that being educated at my alma mater they’re so dumb. I’m sorry! But yes, dumb. …Extreme!? Wow! I was a man of extremes!? …But at least they said something to hint at their confusion. …No. I may have been baffling in general…but…I wasn’t a man of extremes. Not…really. …But I wonder if they even knew me at all or if they’re just analyzing me based on being old and our mutual alma mater.

Anyway, they have something to answer for if they care that much anyway. …Because no. I’m sorry. It’s unlikely I was advocating for the life I led. …The tone is very different than that, despite how it’s misread nowadays out of context. …Very unlikely.

Lacey a melancholy town who never smiles. Even if she’s extremely beautiful.

Feel Good Inc. is me laughing or someone else at first? It’s a fascinating song. Is there reincarnation? Or no?

It’s playing right now as I write this.

Anyway…it’s very unlikely I meant what I said in any positive way about the life I led. It was a complaint. A passive aggressive attempt to stand-up for myself publicly. …Covertly. And then it was turned into something else that was the opposite of what I meant. And actually that harmed me greatly.

You could try to make it “pro-gay.“ …But you have to realize that it’s a covertly “pro-gay” message if I had meant it that way at all. Because I never came out about what I had chosen to do sexually. I was closeted, as they say. And unwilling to discuss it. So…it was a covert “pro-gay” statement if it was at all. …And then if you think that…and why would you?…what am I saying!? It’s so convoluted! …Because am I insane? Extreme? Emotionally stunted? What? It’s a weird statement if I meant it to be covertly “pro-gay.” The tone makes it…sound unhinged. I’m sound like I’m lying. Because…was our love that great!? Really? …If you’re going to take it that way…what about his marriage!? That just wasn’t a problem? Wow! WHY!? Our love was never harassed by that to any serious degree or tainted? Our love was that pure and astounding!? So much so that he could just include me vaguely and “given how oppressive things were” I was permanently in awe of him? No problems? …All those supposed affairs. No problem? …Because people knew about the rumors of the affairs. …He would have been cheating on me TOO! …But oh no! No maturity. No life of my own practically at all! Nope! All good! …Just…chillin’ watching and waiting around for him…in Manhattan. While he fucked lots of other people. And I was miserable and alone. Really!?

That’s a weird person. No needs of their own beyond some closeted married guy’s watered-down mediocre love!? Wow! Because how much did he LOVE ME!? …Not much. Proof is in actions not just words and in actions he’d be mediocre, even considering family obligations.

No. It’s actually a huge stretch and possibly impossible. Given the meager amount of love I would have experienced. And what man like me…would at 50…truly believe that a shallow human connection at best…equaled a stable life of your own with a wife and family? And yes. It would have had to be shallow. Not deep. …Monogamy is real. Okay? People aren’t polyamorous creatures. Not really. …I’m not sure that’s even possible in a healthy adult. It is if God says it is, but…then that’s what I was and not…a petty, prissy, jealous gay bitch. Actually…I don’t exhibit any signs of polyamory. But that’s too much to get into right now.

No…the life and psychological framework you have me at…is…impossible if you think I’m making a “pro-gay” covert statement. It’s psychologically impossible. I’m sorry. …You can imagine it makes sense…but if you actually analyze it…it’s impossible. …So what was it? Well…I was either bisexual and saying that I was extremely disillusioned, deeply bitter and suspicious of all gay men. And…actually…if that was true…and Red Fay’s eye-witness account would back this theory up…and you should be careful because it’s not normal that they’ve ignored and misconstrued that…Lacey is proof I wasn’t imagining things. Because I’m far happier with her. Even with a huge gulf between us. …Or I was gay…and bitter and angry. And the gay community has taken my covert attempt to describe some relationship as meaning I was entirely favor of the idea and the relationship itself. Because no, I don’t sound happy. And…honestly…someone with my personality wouldn’t probably lie and claim sexual orientation privilege to show off. Right? …I wasn’t bragging about being so manly I could fuck chicks. I was saying some sort of complaint. So…it’s almost impossible I wasn’t bisexual, pansexual or straight. …I could “get married” means I could have sex regularly with a woman. That’s what it means.

Sal from Mad Men doesn’t stay married and have kids. Does he? Huh. …No. I was saying I could do it. I could settle down and be at least almost entirely monogamous…because that’s settled down. So…if I could have monogamous sex with a woman and get…her pregnant repeatedly…I had some sense I found women at least fuckable, to be blunt.

…But really…it’s far more likely I was straight. You can’t necessarily easily intuit that from my statement…unless you analyze how miserable I really was. …And then once you realize how miserable I was…you realize how weird and disrespectful and disturbing my so-called relationship with him actually was. And why would I even think that’s an option at all!? …Would any actual homosexual or bisexual or pansexual think that what we did made sense? Probably not. Not if they’re a rational person. So…why would I do that!? Why would I do that to myself and my family!? …Clearly something was off in my head. …And when you realize I’m saying I could have had had regular monogamous, actual sex with one woman…you have to wonder if I was just straight. Not asexual. Straight.

And I was straight.

What was I meaning to say? …A cryptic insult to the Kennedys. I felt I was being held hostage at least by the time I was in my 40’s. And that feeling that I was being held hostage didn’t go away. …I felt…violated. And I was violated by that entire family, if not sexually assaulted I was violated in terms of boundaries and human dignity and respect. They were violently disrespectful, violated my human dignity and violated my boundaries.

No. I didn’t act truly gay. I acted gay. So when my voice was relaxed or my face was relaxed I seemed entirely straight. Very straight. …I was reminiscent of Harold Loeb…and Dick Van Dyke. Actually very reminiscent of Dick Van Dyke’s brother. I was straight. You’re mislabeling old genes as gay genes. I don’t think either of those men were gay. And I wasn’t either. Quirky? Maybe. Naturally squeaky voice. But not…gay. That gay aesthetic I had was entirely fake. It was an act. My gay act falls apart when you see it…move. When it’s in motion it falls apart in my words and movements. Just like how gay and non-straight men can’t quite pull off being straight to everyone, no matter how much they might believe otherwise. Lacey can tell. So can I. And other people can and could too.

“ just speaking as an actress who knows what you’re talking about love I would bet that Lacey could find the flaws in my acting because I don’t know if anyone’s acting is ever 100% flawless. I don’t know if it’s possible psychologically but people have tried, but let’s just say that you were straight, and that you were scouted out by people who hated Jack within the US government who may have even thought you were like Dick Van Dyke I wonder if you actually did resemble him more than we realize especially his brother and they picked up on that just casually watching television one night even did you sorry to have to ask this maybe but did you help assassinate your very best friend ever and then maybe you told yourself oh no, that didn’t happen or you compartmentalized it hope you know I am I hope to kill him, but that was because they asked me to, and I found just cause for it because of nuclear war or other issues and nuclear war and you thought no he’s a heinous person. I have nothing to say if the CIA wants to kill him, I will help because there was all of that repressed rage, because if you were straight and you were pressing all of that normal, sexual adult desire, and he was hitting you with guns in the White House. I just wonder if you snapped and really did help kill him and if you did, I just have someone still in the living world I just want to say wow I am I what I want to think there’s an illuminati part of me wants to think that part of me wants to think the David Pitts who is in on some conspiracy with there’s a part of me that worries were dumb and that a lot of us just don’t get it and so I need help of people who aren’t quite that dumb whether I’m saying this now or in the future did you help kill Jack? Just had a curiosity, just asking did you help assassinate JFK?“ asks Megan Mullally.

I will answer that someday Lord willing.

“ was Lord Mountbatten, assassinated because of you?” asks Megan.

“If there’s reincarnation…maybe. Figure that out first!” says Alfred Hitchcock.

So…in conclusion…

“Jack’s insecure.” says Alfred Hitchcock.

So…in conclusion…it’s pretty obvious once you think about it…or have it pointed out to you….that I was straight. Straight, and hurt that I wasn’t living somewhere with a life of my own. I sound sad. You can hear it. And then you realize how lied to you’ve been. And it’s disorienting. If I was straight and confused…for real…what else is a lie? For real.

How about this: America is both better off and stronger and more stable than most other countries…and they lie about that…and it’s also paradoxically weaker and they lie about that too. They lie about our weak country…and our robust economy. Our finances. so to speak, aren’t great. But our country is also a lot more healthy than Lacey thinks. If we keep pushing it though…it’ll get weak. Because we are in deep water. …Don’t keep attacking me.

Later.

“Lem…what is this!? I think can see your straight soul I think underneath it. And it’s a soul that matches up in every photo of you, which is proof it’s potentially your real soul. And you’re straight.

But…I’m being harassed. What is this? This…essence?” says Lacey.

“I don’t know why the Gay Men’s Chorus of South Florida is so overconfident though. That’s creepy.” says Lacey.

“It’s who I thought I was.” says Lem. “So it’s more than an act…but also just an act.”

“It feels like a weird fog.” says Lacey.

“Like I’m drunk or insane.” says Lem.

“So it’s not real?” says Lacey, terrified and in a fog herself.

Smells Like Teen Spirit plays as Zelda musically slaps Lacey in her face to snap her out of it. It works.

Zelda snaps her fingers in Lacey’s face.

“Thanks.” says Lacey sweetly.

“You can’t drink.” says Zelda.

“It’s terrifying.” says Lacey.

The song plays.

“I suppose…I can think.” says Lacey.

“You can.” says Zelda sweetly.

“Lacey. Come on!” says Janis.

“But if I just figured that out…that’s terrifying.” says Lacey.

“Why!?” says Lem.

“You’re not supposed to know. You’re supposed to learn or humbly and with a perfect science…figure it out…into complete annihilation of all possible doubt.” says Zelda.

“Yes.” says Lacey.

“But what if…you’re right? And nobody else has thought of it?” says Scott.

“I can’t be right!!!” says Lacey, in a panic in her spirit.

“Why!?” says Zelda. “You’re not in World War I.”

“No. What if I am!?!” says Lacey. “What if I am!?”

“Yeah. Because…who are you? Nobody has acknowledged your intentions. You have honest intentions.” says Zelda.

“He’s DEAD.” says Lacey. “And so am I.”

“If you’re reincarnated. You’re right in a way.” says Zelda. “But…you’re also alive.”

“Am I alive?” says Lacey.

Zelda looks around.

“Yes.” says Zelda. “You are.”

“NO!!!” yells Lacey.

“Yeah. If there’s reincarnation you’re not supposed to be here. You and your kids should be with Lem. With us.” says Zelda. “But you can’t die until God says so.”

Gimme Shelter by The Rolling Stones plays. It’s one of Lacey’s favorite songs.

“What if there isn’t?” says Lacey.

“Same thing. Some modifications.” says Zelda.

“How can I know him? He’s such a great man.” says Lacey, humbly.

She laughs. “Lacey. I’m a very big deal.”

“No!” says Lacey.

“Yes!!” says Zelda. “REALLY.”

“What the fuck is this!??” says Lacey.

“We are. We’re…zippy.” says Zelda.

“Like sparkles.” says Lacey.

“Yeah!!” says Zelda. “EXACTLY!!”

“How can I possibly be right!??” says Lacey, mystified.

“Yeah. You’re on your own with this one. For real.” says Zelda.

Lacey thinks.

“But if there’s reincarnation you started Scotland.” says Zelda.

“I hate being wrong. It’s TERRIFYING.” says Lacey.

“God isn’t that dumb. He’s so much more balanced intellectually than that. …He understands human stupidity.” says Zelda.

“Am I a genius?” asks Lacey.

“Yeah.” says Zelda.

“Yeah. I think it’s a facade. Or an elaborate act.” says Lacey. “But I hesitated to guarantee it.”

“I can. That’s all it was.” says Lem. “I’m a genius too.”

“You’re smarter than me.” says Lacey to Lem.

“Yeah. I bet he is.” says Tsar Putin. “So am I.”

“I am.” says Lem. “I am smarter in a way.”

“I can’t act that well. It’s too overwhelming and dangerous.” says Lacey.

“But I can handle it? Hmm. Well…I’m handling it. …But you’re not stupid.” says Lem.

“It was all an act!?!” says JFK.

“Yes!” says Lem.

Jack looks shocked.

“Look…it falls apart. I didn’t ever actually want what’s called gay sex.” says Lem.

Later.

“I was actually straight. I really was.

Lacey watched the opening ceremonies. …If there’s an Illuminati…*I laugh*. …No. Lacey will not be having any moments in the French libraries.” says Lem.

“Lem what actually happened?” asks Elizabeth McGovern.

Lem has to take a moment.

“I was gay in my mind. And I made other people believe what I did. And now I regret it.” says Lem.

“You did.” she says.

“I wish you and other people of today could have seen me. …I really didn’t seem gay. …I seemed straight with a weird…act.

*he pauses*

Lacey and I are meant to be together forever. She has fears but they’re based on other people’s assumptions. And so…they’ll fade.” says Lem.

“She’d never-“ starts a woman.

“Have a situation like the film?” says Lem.

“Yes.” says the woman.

“NO!” says Lem. “I’d never have gone along with that. And if I did I’d not have let her be with him again. Whoever he was. Because I would have been with her myself.”

“And what about those sort of men?” asks a woman.

“No! She’s really not attracted to gay men. …I wasn’t gay. Michael Rockefeller is as gay as she is generally attracted to.” says Lem.

“But you had so many female friends.” says a woman.

“Not that way. …My friendships were…shallow with women.” says Lem.

A woman laughs. “Lem…how did you never sleep with anyone!?”

He looks sad. Thoughtful. Angry. “I was…a good man.”

“But come on!” says another woman.

He smiles and laughs. “Yeah. Well…I was…trying to be friends.”

“Didn’t it get awkward?” she says.

“Yeah. And I’d seem attracted to them and straight. …But they didn’t ever notice. Or care.” says Lem.

“So you’d feel attracted to them. After acting like a silly gay man and singing with them or posing in photos in a flirty way. Stuff like that.” she says.

“Yes.” says Lem.

“See…this makes me think Jack knew.” says an actress. “I think he used to lure in women.”

“He did. Or make them feel more comfortable.

And I was careful. But not as careful as I should have been. But…I did care. I did…see prostitutes as sec workers. But at the same time I didn’t want sex with them because they were…so depressing. …I wanted real sex. And if I wasn’t going to get it…I wasn’t about to give away my real virginity to some fake lover.” says Lem. “I didn’t understand that that’s what I was feeling. …But I knew it in my subconscious.”

“Lem…what real evidence do we even have other than your convincing acting?” asks a woman.

“That I was gay?” asks Lem.

“Yes.” says Lance Bass, laughing.

“You could think my…innocence was gay. I was happy to have fun with people and…I tried not to be uptight. …Is there any evidence? Real evidence? …No.” says Lem.

“So…we really have no way to know if we’re right if we still don’t think you were just acting.” says an actress.

“No!” says Lem.

“Are you like my character!?” asks Jon Hamm.

Lem laughs. “YES!!”

“So your face changes?” says Lance Bass.

“My face literally drops. My facial features drop. And I look suddenly far more…somber.” says Lem.

“So you’re like me?” says Jon Hamm.

“Your character. Yes. But I wasn’t a jerk. And my personality was…different. But there is a similarity.” says Lem.

“So…who was aware of that?” says Jon Hamm.

“A lot of people.” says Lem.

“Are they mocking you?” asks Jon Hamm.

“They’re mocking Lacey. Possibly. …And possibly trying to point out that I was a bizarre person by today’a standards.” says Lem.

“So you’re saying you faked the gay looks.

Did have one dominant gay persona?” says Lance.

“No.” says Lem.

“Who were these people?” asks Lance.

“Ahh…there was a man who was…a bit like you, actually. Another who was very flamingly gay. I mean…he was gay. Sassy. Opinionated. …There was a prissy princess. I used that one in the White House often. …I felt guilty and privileged being there…and as Jackie used me and saw me as a sort of sister bride…*I laugh* I ran with that in my imagination and decided to use a fairly prissy gay personality. Very confident. Although I am confident. …There were dozens of them.” says Lem.

“Did Jack notice that!?” asks an actress.

“No.” says Lem.

“Did anyone!?” asks Lance.

“Yes! People compared me to Zelig for a reason.” says Lem. “That Zelig tendency came from my confusion.”

“I think that’s honorable. Really. That you were trying to be real.” says Lance.

“I didn’t think using a persona was fake. I thought it was…me being myself. Or maybe being more…sophisticated. We all adopt mannerisms that we think suit us. I was just…very confused.” says Lem.

“So you’re a burly…aristocrat…sweet…decent…ursine version of Don Draper.” says a reader. “What the fuck!!? What…the…fuck!?”

“Somewhat.” says Lem.

“You’re not the Lem we thought existed.” says a woman.

“Who did you decide I was?” asks Lem.

“A joker. A gay joker.” says a man.

“He sounds straight. How many real gay men are jokers?” says Lem.

“Not many.” says a gay actor.

Lem nods. He thinks. “There could be some. But that personality usually is straight. …Honestly it’s a cover for pain. Possibly. But the particular pain of a sensitive straight man. Elliott Roosevelt is a joker.”

“Are you a joker?” asks a gay actor.

“Yeah? …I liked being likable. …Lacey is only likable to be kind and stay safe. …Otherwise she’s just polite. And considerate.” says Lem. “I made jokes to be affable.”

Chris Hayes thinks.

“So…you remind me of Carl Lewis. Why!?” says Chris.

“Yeah! Except…I’m pretty sure he’s bisexual. …I did seem like him. But I was straight. Why!? …Because I wasn’t being myself. …Carl Lewis is hiding his homosexual, possibly. Even though…I’d be surprised if he isn’t attracted to women too. …I was trying to act gay without acting gay. Because I wanted to seem gay…but not…seem gay. …His act was similar maybe but not for the same reason. …Give off an air of homosexuality…but also make it seem discreet. Possibly because you feel uncomfortable with it. …Like really uncomfortable. …So I found a way to look gay…but tone it down. He might have done the same thing with gay mannerisms.

…Lacey looked at him and thinks he’s bisexual. She sees bisexuality under his act. But she sees my heterosexuality. …He might not want to be gay at all. And…if he’s attracted to women…that’s between him and God.

You know…he could also be bisexual…and have been sexually abused. To be blunt. And…even if he is bisexual…he may not feel at ease saying that because he doubts it. Because he figured out what it took me years to figure out.

…So! What was I actually like!?

…I was…very serious. Playful. Sweet. Somewhat quiet. …I seemed like an ordinary straight man. Of my generation.

See I look like I’m trying to be…more energetic. What’s underneath? …A sad…lonely man with no friends who actually know who he is. Almost at all. …No wife. No kids.” says Lem. “Lacey knows me.”

“Does Jack even know you!??” says Lady Gaga.

“Kind of.” says Lem. “Not all that well.”

Adult content below.

I walk into the Oval Office. It’s 1961. Lacey Banks is 38. She’s stunningly attractive. …Perfect figure. …Never married. Why? Because she spent ten years as Harold Loeb’s girlfriend. And in the end he felt too old for her. So he told her to find a better life. She…quickly and easily found a job as a part of the administration because she wanted to work as a writer. Harold encouraged her to write. Lacey likes writing far more than she consciously realizes.

I walk in and introduce myself again. We had met briefly a few days before. And now we were going to have to work in the same room…without Jack. She wants my opinion. Someone told I was a decent writer.

“Excuse me, Mr. Billings?” says Lacey.

“Yes!” I say.

“Listen…may I call you Kirk?” says Lacey.

“Yeah. But everyone here calls me Lem. …You can call me Kirk if you want to.” I say, touching her arm and leaving it there.

“Lem. Kirk LeMoyne.” she says, and then gets lost for a second.

I laugh, nervously.

“Is Lem a nickname from Childhood?” she asks.

“You guessed it!” I say brightly, lighting-up a cigarette.

We stare into each other’s eyes as I blow smoke out of my mouth.

“I like it.” says Lacey smiling. “I’ll call you Lem if you prefer that.”

“Call me Lem!” I say.

“I do like Kirk though.” says Lacey. “You have a nice name.” she says thoughtfully.

I smile sweetly. Catch her attention and smile to make her smile. We smile together.

“So…here’s what I’m bothering you about, Lem.” she says, almost mischievously. “I’m editing a speech for the President, and there’s a part where he addresses the audience and asks them questions about their day. It’s at the very beginning.

Well…Lem…I’ve just never seen a U.S. President do that.” she says.

“Let me take a look at it!” I say. I motion for her to sit with me on the sofa eventually.

She seems to find this…unnerving. I wonder why.

Facing her I ask her why she’s so nervous.

“Would you rather go somewhere else?” I say.

She eyes me. “No.” she says. She looks resigned.

“Why don’t we-“ I say.

She blinks.

My mouth drops open. I had no intention of saying what I just said.

“Lem…I’m sure I’m fascinated by whatever it is you’re saying. But…what do you think?” says Lacey. She looks deeply into my eyes. “Your honest opinion is very valuable. Please!”

I touch her knee. I’m letting myself go crazy. Why? …Because I feel she understands me. Truly understands me. It’s just a gut sense.

“I like your mind.” I say, getting my face close to hers. I seem awkward. I’m inexperienced.

She smiles, showing her teeth.

I laugh.

She looks serious.

“Should I take it out?” she says.

“Yeah.” I say. I move my face nearer hers. “Why aren’t you wearing perfume?” I ask.

“I am!” she says.

I move my face in front of hers and meet her eyes. “Where!? I can’t smell it!” I say moving my nose into her neck.

She touches my cheek with her hand. Closes her eyes.

“It’s Gardenia.” she says. “But I don’t wear a lot of it. Just a few drops.”

I push her backwards.

“I won’t get you pregnant.” I say quietly.

“That’s not likely. You’ll get me pregnant.” says Lacey. “Let’s not lie. ….I like you.”

“Why do you do this!?” I say, losing myself in passion at the same time.

“Do what!?” she says.

“We’re making love!” I say, a little too loudly.

“Oh!” she says.

I stop suddenly, catch myself. Look at her. Stunned. Worried.

“Oh! No…I know. I understand.

…I just…I’m-“ she says, struggling.

I wait. Holding her.

“This is sudden.

And I love that.

Darling…I…lived with an artist. For years. …You’d know him!

But…it is sudden. …And…people are cruel.” says Lacey.

“I won’t ever dump you!” I say.

“Then we’d get married.” says Lacey.

“Can you get pregnant?” I ask.

“Yes! …I would have. But he wasn’t able to. …I’m sorry if I shocked you.” says Lacey.

“You were in love with him!?” I ask.

“Yes.” she says.

“But you aren’t anymore?” I say.

“No!” she says. She looks sad.

“Let’s get out of here! Say! I know a place.” I say. “In upstate New York.”

“We just met.” she says.

“So what!?!” I say, sharply.

“Are you suddenly in love with me?” she says.

“Yes!” I say.

“Well you better be good. Because I’m 38. I’m old. …And I’m sick of being single.” says Lacey. “Say! We’re both old.”

“Yeah!” I say nodding in her face.

“Why?” she says.

“Just let me tell you later.” I say.

“Fine.” she says.

“Jack will be okay?” I say.

“His speech!?” she says.

She sees I mean that.

“Oh! Yes! I’ll just make a few edits right now.” she says. She makes them and then walks out to the secretary. Hands her the paperwork. Instructions included.

Then she returns to me.

I eye her.

“Why don’t you tell me about it now??” says Lem.

“I’ve never been married. I’m from Minneapolis, Minnesota. …I’m the youngest of two. I have one older brother.

…My father is into real estate.

Harold Loeb, Robert Cohn from The Sun Also Rises was my…lover.” she says. “He’s still in love with Brett Ashley.”

“You’re Brett Ashley.” I say.

She looks confused. “No, I’m not.”

“I don’t mean literally.” I say.

She waits.

“I’m not a faggot.” I say.

“I would have never thought you were.” says Lacey.

I look down. “So he broke your heart?”

“Oh! Maybe. …He can’t help loving her. You know?” she says.

“You loved him.” I say.

“Yes.” she says. “But…if he loves her…still…there’s nothing I can do. …And he’s just not for me!”

“That’s very kind. And very loving.” I say.

She waits.

“Let’s find love.” I say.

And at that I tell her to close the door. And we make love.

…Yes. We do seem reincarnated. …We might not be. Some people just understand each other. …Who else has had it in them to really wonder if I was straight?

…It’s depressing this sort of thing made it into our children’s lives today on the OLYMPICS!