Author Archives: L.

Hemingway sits at a table as Lacey eats her potatoes with her hands like a native African.

“Why do you eat like that?” he says.

“You get the exact right amount.” says Lacey. “And it’s less tedious.”

“It is a pragmatic approach.” says a dead African.

Hemingway smokes.

“Look…let’s analyze The Sun Also Rises.” says Lacey.

She puts them in a cloche. Permanently glued shut, if necessary.

“Alright.

Alright.

Sounds good!

Aww!

How cute!!

Why Harold?” asks Lacey of Hemingway.

“Because he’s the wealthiest person I’ve ever been close to.” says Hemingway.

“Yes. But you sublimated that?” says Lacey.

Hemingway takes a drink.

“You eviscerated that at the beginning of the novel.” says Lacey.

“Did I eviscerate it?” asks Hemingway.

“Close to it.” says Lacey.

He thinks.

“Your novel always felt like a lie to me because of that.” says Lacey.

“The Jews!?” says India. “The Jews!?” says India quizzically.

“Does it really make sense?” says Lacey.

“Possibly not.” says India.

“Yes. They’re a good-looking scapegoat.” says Lacey.

“They are.” says Hemingway.

“But where is the evil actually from? If not just Satan?” says Lacey.

“We have a culprit.” says Queen Elizabeth I.

“We do.” says Lacey.

“We were in love.” says Hemingway about him and Brett Ashley.

“Yes. So why didn’t you just run off together?” says Lacey.

“I was wounded.” says Hemingway.

“That’s stupid. I’m sorry. But that’s not a thing.” says Lacey.

Hemingway smirks and takes a drink. Smiles.

“No. If you really were that grand…then no wound is meaningful enough to thwart you.” says Lacey.

“Then maybe we weren’t that grand.” says Hemingway.

“Well. Why was she running off with Harold? You left your wife eventually anyway. Why Harold?” says Lacey.

He fumes.

“I agree.” says Israel.

Iran catches the drift, possibly, at least slightly.

“Follow the money?” says Iran to Lacey, jokingly.

“Because I’m married. Not wounded.” says Hemingway.

“No. No dice.” says Lacey.

“I didn’t want to be that honest.” says Hemingway.

“Exactly!!” says Lacey. “But then you waste everyone’s time. Because you’re Hemingway.”

“It was so damn pointless. Even if I’m with her. It was so damn pointless.” says Harold.

“He needed you to be more honest.” says Lacey.

“Why?” asks Fitzgerald.

“Because then he can be more honest.” says Lacey.

“Why!?” says Hemingway.

“You had first dibs.” says Lacey.

“You did.” says Brett Ashley.

Hemingway thinks. “But I was married.”

“Did you ever express that that was why!?” says Lacey. “Openly and clearly?”

Hemingway thinks. “Was she insulted!?”

“I’d bet yes.” says Lacey.

“So Brett Ashley was hurt by me??” says Hemingway.

“YES. Possibly.

You may have needed to be more clear if you weren’t.” says Lacey.

“And say what!?” asks Hemingway.

“Say, ‘You’re a damn attractive woman!’ openly. To Brett Ashley. In front of everyone. At the pub.

And then say, ‘Shit! I already get fucked and like it.’ Or something of that sort.” says Lacey.

Hemingway laughs.

“Well. I think Brett might have been confused.” says Lacey.

Brett cries.

Curt Craft rolls his eyes. “It’s always something stupid.” he says.

“In the fallen world?” says Lacey.

He looks at her confused.

“Nevermind. Ask God. Your point will make sense to Him. If I don’t quite follow.” says Lacey.

“She’s right!” says Fitzgerald.

“Are we rich? Old money?” asks Curt Craft.

“Yes.” says Brett Ashley.

“Do they understand that!?” asks Curt of Brett Ashley.

She cries. Covers her face. Then calms herself, anxiously.

“Okay. Interesting response.” says Curt.

“Indeed.” says Simon Johnson the Norwegian-American author and great granduncle of both Curt and Lacey.

“Are we related to you enough?” asks Curt Craft of Simon Johnson.

Simon cries. “I had no kids.”

Curt closes his eyes and looks sad.

Simon smiles. “YES!” he says to Curt cheerfully.

Curt smiles. “We do have a grand family.”

“Yes. In a humble Norwegian-American way.” says Simon Johnson. “Ou non?”

“NON!” says Lacey.

“I agree.” says a dead French Queen.

“No. It’s a bit more than that, Curt.” says Gore Vidal. “Sorry.”

“Yes.” says Lacey. “It’s a bit more. But that’s both a related and unrelated topic.”

“I was scared.” says Hemingway.

“But it’s not safe.” says Lacey. “You can’t borrow time and space like that.”

“Yes. I was in love with you.” Hemingway says to Brett Ashley, finally.

She thinks.

“Right.

Now pursue her, Harold.” says Lacey.

He stabs the wood table in front of him with a knife.

Then he stands up and ponders.

“Uh oh here comes the Jews!” says Lacey like she’s at a 1950’s B movie.

Israel laughs.

Iran smiles.

“When they ‘send the Jews in’ then you really know that something has jumped the shark.” says Lacey.

George Cukor laughs with Lacey.

“No, I agree.

We’re native to certain areas. Like Jazz, Hollywood. New York City. We adapted and became native enough. Or are we? Yes? Definitely we’re native to Hollywood. Definitely we’re native to Jazz.

But that’s the thing. It’s tricky to figure it out. Because we’ve been in in diaspora for hundreds of years. And it does seem as though it’s like the old adage that when the Blacks show up you know something is going downhill in the United States and I wonder if we have a similar reputation subconsciously in people’s minds. So when the Jews show-up something is about to become very evil or nefarious. It’s almost as if that’s true. Huh?

Why? Because we lacked our own country and so we’ve been used by various different people as a sort of weapon of mass destruction. As a people group. So it’s like, ‘Oh here come the Jews!’ The horror movie is really about to get good.” explains a Jewish Old Hollywood movie producer.

“Yes.

But now what!?” asks Lacey of Harold.

“I very carefully pursue Brett.” says Harold.

“Would you have been pulled asunder?” asks Lacey of Brett.

Brett laughs. “Yes.”

“Why?” asks Israel.

“Because he’s rich, dark, and extremely handsome.” says Brett. “He was…the ring I wanted to try on at Bentley and Skinner.”

“You don’t just try on a ring like that.” says a reader to Brett Ashley.

Harold Loeb cries.

“No. It’s why Israel isn’t safe. It’s why the Holocaust happened in some small part.

Brett are you a coward too!?” says Lacey.

“Why did it cause the Holocaust?” asks Brett Ashley.

“Because that reader is right. You can’t just try on a ring like that.” says Lacey.

“It’s still frowned upon. Even now.” says Bentley & Skinner.

“But then why would you have slept with him!?” says Brett.

“I’m Esther. I was offering my life.” says Lacey.

“Yeah. And then I had to very quickly decide if I was that serious.

*Harold smiles*

And…I took one look at her and decided I was.” says Harold.

“Quite different.” says Lacey.

“She’s the customer who asks a dozen questions about the origin of the ring in two sentences.” says Bentley & Skinner.

“And then buys it?” asks Harold.

“Yes!! If it’s the right ring. She never browses.” says Bentley & Skinner.

“No. I do look at their online selection. And I do analyze and enjoy the beauty. But I’m not sure that’s the same thing.” says Lacey.

“Why?” asks Bentley & Skinner.

“It’s obnoxious.” says Lacey.

“Browsing?” asks Bentley & Skinner.

“Yes.” says Lacey.

“We like that.” says Bentley & Skinner.

“No. You like making money.” says Lacey sharply. “And being honorable if you still exist.”

“Why is browsing obnoxious?” asks Bentley & Skinner.

“Because I WANT MY GEMS!!!” yells Lacey in the wretchedly dangerous whisper of a lady who needs her gems.

Harold Loeb laughs.

“But I’m trying him on.” says Brett Ashley.

Lacey considers chopping off her head. She decides against it. A woman working at the store coaxes her against that option by offering her tea and cookies and a quiet corner.

Lacey sighs and drinks her tea.

“No. I can’t in good conscience do this.” says a man working there. He’s of Middle Eastern descent. He goes over to Brett and rips off the ring. Then he walks over to Lacey. He’s straight or bisexual.

He gives Lacey the ring. She looks at it.

“It’s quite perfect. But I need to make the right selection.” says Lacey. “I worry about these other options.”

And at that Harold Loeb walks over to Lacey and grabs the ring off of her finger and hurts her finger in the process.

“Lacey how much have you payed to Neiman Marcus?” asks Israel.

Ken Schiebel shifts uneasily.

“$10,000.00.” says Lacey.

Prince William nods and smiles in understanding.

“That’s not that much.” says Harold, confused.

“It’s not.” says Curt Craft, offended.

“No. It’s not.

She found good sales.” says Harold Loeb. “And spent wisely.”

And then Harold marches over to Brett Ashley and gives her the ring to Brett Ashley.

“Oh thank you, Harold.” she says patronizingly. She fiddles with the ring casually. Harold slaps her. She cries. He screams a wail of exasperation.

“I liked the ring.” says Lacey, confused.

“That’s nice!

It’s not your choice.” says Harold.

“Fine.

But this is my choice.” says Lacey.

And at that she puts a glass cloche on top of Brett Ashley and Harold Loeb and let’s them listen to The Rush by Bob Moses on repeat. With plenty of air. She glues it shut.

Then she marches over to the Middle Eastern man and grabs the Ring With Elephants, the mourning ring, the old mine cut diamond, and the agate. She says, “You should have chosen one of these.” She bows to him and then leaves the store.

It’s a boring day at the store. He stares out the window at Bond Street. And in his spirit he gets up and leaves the store. Smiling.

Lem picks Lacey up on Bond Street and carries her away.

Meanwhile back at the store the employees miss that they lost a $80,000 sale because they were scared of Mark Schiebel. Mark Schiebel, a man who loves the humble aesthetic. The chill look. And who bought an Audi as a peace offering potentially to Lacey who likes German cars. They aren’t Land Rovers, per se, but they’re German cars. German cars. That used to mean something. Maybe it still does. But newer Audis aren’t as well made in their interior as Lacey’s older Audi.

“That’s the fault of Washington D. C. and Israel.” says Germany.

“True!!!” yells Bill Gates.

Jeff Bezos looks sad.

“Hey! Maybe Jeff Bezos is the Antichrist!” says Lacey.

“Yeah. Maybe.” says Jeff Bezos.

“So Amazon was the mark of the beast.” says Lacey. “Because of the packaging issues. And distribution issues. And the destruction of the Amazon Rainforest. What if Global Warming is a huge problem? And…Amazon is a reference to that.

And Jeff Bezos is not really anti Christ so much as against the idea of me being in a sexual relationship with Jesus. At least a committed one. Because he’s quite sure that’s weird.” says Lacey.

Colors by Crooked Flow plays.

Skippy Handelman sits on the grass at the Minnesota Valley Country Club.

Then he sits at the Minnekhada Club.

Lacey’s father belonged to the Minnekhada Club officially or unofficially. He’s Dutch old money. They’re superior.

“Lacey. You’re superior to the Kennedys. By birth. And there’s no relief from that in your case for your haters because The you’re also a saint. Or a saint in the making.” says Skippy to Lacey.

“How inferior are the Kennedys?” asks Lacey.

“There is no country club that would ever fell safe or be safe rejecting you. You’re their spine. You’re the rulers of the Earth.

The Kennedys are a cheap, ugly car parked in a country club parking lot. They still desperately want to be there whereas you are the ones who own the club. The club exists because of you. If you leave…it ceases to exist.” says Skippy.

And at that if Prince Williams is a cheap peasant poser Lacey cuts off his balls.

“How did you sneak in?” asks Lacey, if this is necessary.

“Me.” says Prince Philip.

And so Lacey next stabs Philip in the head, if necessary. And then she says, “Elizabeth. You can do better.”

“Yes.” says her father, to Lacey.

“Wow. You got beat up.” says Lacey to Elizabeth’s father.

“From birth.” he says.

“Who arranged things this way?!?” says Lacey.

“I was secretly evil.” says Queen Victoria.

“My head is fine.” says Prince Philip.

And at that Lacey puts him in chains instead.

“You can’t tell me that Joe Kennedy Junior and Jack ran the world. That’s a lie.” says Lacey. “For all of eternity? You’re a piece of shit to insist that.”

“I betrayed my wife to the Kennedys?” says Prince Philip to Lacey.

“You’re a coward. Right?” says Lacey.

And then she takes off for Queen Elizabeth I.

“I’ll bury my Madagascar Ruby in Saint Paul. If necessary.” says Lacey to God.

The song plays.

“Elizabeth. Darling. Are you a cuck for Satan?” says Lacey.

Queen Elizabeth I thinks. “No. We formed Edwardian England starting during my Presidency.” she says laughing.

“Right.

Elizabeth you weren’t supposed to be Queen.” says Lacey to Queen Elizabeth II.

“True.” says Queen Elizabeth II.

“You needed to recall that.

…Philip…did you realize why Edward was such a reactionary?” says Lacey.

“Why?” asks Phillip.

“The darkness threatening to suffocate us from within.” says Lacey.

Iran breaks up laughing.

“I do and don’t mean you.” says Lacey to Iran.

They look sad.

“But it’s not the Jews. Necessarily.” says Lacey.

Iran looks thoughtful.

Flow by Crooked Teeth plays.

“We really are trying to take over the world.” says Islam.

“Yes. But why the Jews?

Is that really our thing or invented to distract us?” says Lacey.

“You think it’s invented?” asks Iran.

“I’m still here. It’s just a different set of binoculars.” says Queen Elizabeth II.

“Yes. These are sharper. And aimed in the right direction.” says Lacey.

“I wonder if that was invented now too.” says a Spanish woman.

“About the Jews?” says Lacey.

“Yes.” says the Spanish woman.

“Maybe.” says Iran.

Lacey smiles.

Lacey laughs.

“I think we’ve gotten somewhere today.” says Lacey. “I’ll return. Thank you!”

“We’re still fighting!” says Iran.

“I’ll pray for all of you. God speed!” says Lacey.