Category Archives: Journal

Last night Lacey fell asleep with Lem. They just quickly dozed off.

And Michael sat in the corner of the room watching. Knees pulled up to his chest.

And he cried. Silently.

It’s one of Lacey’s worst fears.

Michael is glorious. And he does get scared. He dares to sit in a corner of her room room…silently crying. He dares to be that profoundly sad over Lacey…openly. Not because he doesn’t care…but because he is strong.

Of course she didn’t find out about until this morning.

*cough cough* “That’s bad dude.” says a hippie to Mr. Blue.

The loving hippies are…amused. Never did they imagine seeing mainstream Liberals so resembling the worst aspects of American Christianity. They imagine Mr. Blue as akin to the worship leader of a mega church standing behind an electric piano. He bounces and bends with the flow of the music to try to bring up the mood. …They imagine that at his best…he flows with something glorious or better like the Holy Spirit in the church. But at his worst…he lies.

High By The Beach by Lana Del Rey plays.

At his worst Mr. Blue gets pushy. He gets…aggressive and desperate to affect his followers. To play on their emotions and produce results…

But…Michael isn’t God. And if God says Lem is Lacey’s soulmate…Michael has something and someone better for him. It’s just…she isn’t Lacey. And he loved Lacey. He loved her…problems. They were fun problems to solve.

“I’m just imagining if you took me, as a ghost in God’s hands, back to the times I was in love with my ex-wife. And…asked me to reimagine her life going forward. Give her life some improvements. …And we reconnected. And were really happy.” says Thirsten. “What…in the world are you people thinking?! This isn’t-You can’t keep causing huge amounts of chaos and expect good results.”

In response:

“It’s just Lacey.” says Mr. Blue.

“Lem is gay.” says the gay man from last night. “He’s our Cinderella.”

“We still win!” say a group in the they of the Illuminati.

…”Well…maybe.” a few say to Lord Thirsten Snotgrass.

…

“The problem is…we…if I’m a ghost…are one.” says Lem about Lacey.

“Lem…does Lacey even care if you were gay? Should you be Lem.” says a Christian Boomer.

“If I’m in love with her more than Jack or anyone…and I’m best for her and she’s best for me…and I’m not gay now.” He laughs. “No!” He looks sad. “She never did in the first place. It was just mysterious to her.”

The woman sighs. “Lem, that’s bad.”

“I know!” he says as he nods his head. “I might have actually been straight though.”

The woman nods, dumbfounded. “How do they not understand? If they’re just wrong…they’re forcing us to brutally destroy their delusion.”

“I think a lot of it goes back to social class anxiety in the American upper class.” says a British woman. “They can’t stand Lacey. She’s too terrible.”

“And the narcissistic people in the perfume community who impersonated the upper class in America to feel elite…were the canary in the coal mine when they attacked Lacey. …Not a collective lighthouse.” says the Christian woman.

“But is it just Lacey? Or is she weirdly dangerous?” asks Lem.

“It’s just Lacey.” says Mr. Blue. “And that’s why I’m not too worried. …It’s just Lacey. No big deal?”

“Wait, Lem what do you mean?” asks an English witch.

“I’m just saying…you all are just worried over nothing.” says Lem. “America is too stubborn, if I know anything about America, to ever collapse and cease to exist over one person. Much less someone like Lacey.” He scoffs. “She’s just a bitch, annoying, mousy-trash housewife. Right?”

“That’s not what we think of her! That’s you imagining things.” says a Boomer actress.

“Which is why you came on to him the other night?” asks Michael.

“I didn’t put out. I wasn’t a tiny bit interested.” says Lem. “Is that where the gay dude came from? Because I find you ugly?”

“Yes! She was hot in the 1970’s!” says the gay man.

“I was alive in the 1970’s… …I’m not sure what happened to your brain, but it’s sad.” says Lem.

“These are Hollywood elite!” says a film producer. “I’m elite. You’re supposed to find them intimidating and awe-inspiring and sexy.”

“I wasn’t coming on to you.” says the Boomer actress to Lem.

“It felt like it. But you thought you were being so clever?” says Lem.

A non-pedophilic Millennial father imagines a girl his daughter’s age coming on to him someday long into the future when they’re adults using her own stuff. Like…how is it not gross and offensive? And funny, to be honest.

“It’s like. ‘Yo, asshole? You like the juice?’ as she holds up her juice box.” he says laughing.

“That’s a joke ordinary pedophiles can’t understand. Be sensitive to those less fortunate.” says the gay man without intended humor.

“Ordinary pedophiles?“ asks Thirsten, aghast.

“Wait…is she just asking about the juice or is it an innuendo?” asks Mr. Blue.

“It’s just juice.” says the man who told the joke. “No innuendo.”

“They feel…ordinary now.” says the gay man. “They’re my sunshine neighbors. Or nevermind if you’re not a normie I’m trying to bullshit.”

“Umm…you guys…she’s not going to be nice. She’s nice but you’ve declared war on her. And that’s…” says Summertime Sadness.

“I’m innocent. We’re innocent. We’re her victims. All of my friends and I. We…are good. And innocent. And good. And innocent…” says Mr. Blue.

“Are those her actual words? Or is she reading you?” asks Summertime Sadness.

“She’s reading us.” says Mr. Blue.

“So that’s how dumb you actually are. And I bet sometimes you say other things.” says a Boomer.

“Why…does she matter? If I had the Illuminati stalking my brain I’d be confused.” says a male Boomer.

“I get confused too. Daily.” says Lacey.

“No, no, no!” say the demons that worked and work with the Kennedy’s to Lacey. “You are ugly, trashy and vile. Shut-up!!!!”

“She’s a Brit.” says Michael to the demons.

“And a monarchist.” says a dead monarchist.

“Make me King!” says Joe Jr..

The demons smile. “That’s what we always intended.” they say.

“But she’s Queen then.” says Joe Jr..

“No!!! That’s not right. Jack was King.” they say.

“Bobby was almost King.” they add.

Poor Jack loses it and starts dancing like a fool to the music with the demons. “I won!!!!”

“She’s a Brit.” says Michael.

“No, she isn’t!” says Jack.

“Why not?” asks Michael.

Jack stares.

West Coast by Lana Del Rey plays.

“Because that’s what she is in some way, Jack.” says a Gen Z woman.

“She can’t exist!!!” he screams.

“Why, Jack?” asks Mary.

He manifests his demons. Screeches.

“Is it Lem?” asks Mary.

“Yes and no.” he says.

“Is it Joe?” asks Rocky.

“It’s all of it.” says Jack. “But yes! Of course. She wins!!! Just…like my brother!” he spits.

Lacey seems this entire time to have failed to realize this is about her. But…unlike Buster I’m Arrested Development who is clearly labeled Lacey is more Lem. Or Michael. Or Harold. …It’s comical, at its best. Buster isn’t an idiot. At all, really. He’s just…Buster.

“Could a female Buster have married Joe Jr.?” asks a Boomer.

“Was Jackie a bit of a Buster?” asks another Boomer.

“Not necessarily?” wonders Lacey sweetly.

“I even looked like Buster.” says Lem.

“Jack…why Lem?” asks a lesbian actress.

“Because he’s hot.” says Jack. “Or I thought he was.”

“So is Michael.” says an English actress.

Jack gets a migraine. He leans forward and rubs his forehead. He licks his lips.

“I was hot. But…so effeminate.” he says. “When Lacey was younger I had her attention. But as she’s aged she’s lost all interest. …Men like Lem keep her attention now.” He looks up at Lacey. “Why didn’t you see it before?”

“Because you really are unusually handsome. It wowed me at first.” says Lacey.

“But then I seem too ladylike?” he asks her.

“Before I got married, I would have thought you really had something. But your inability to make love to a woman…is…not attractive.” says Lacey. “And I can sense that. That you’re all talk and no show.” She thinks. “Could you consistently get one woman off for a year even?”

He looks at her.

“Lacey, that’s not important!” say a group of American women seriously.

“Why not?” asks Louis.

“Because men don’t need to be able to do that. They don’t even need to orgasm themselves.” say the American women.

Michael laughs. He cackles.

Jack cries.

“Why are you crying?! You were possibly gay?!” asks Lacey to be comforting.

He collects himself.

“Wait!!! Is she the only voice of reason left?!” asks a Millennial. “We literally silenced them so much…and we’re left with Buster as our only resource?!” He thinks. “And we can’t stand her. Because she’s funny. But it isn’t intended. …And that makes her what? Complicated. And mysterious. …And it makes her entire generation, should she be Lacey Banks in Heaven, normal. Good.” He seethes. “We can’t just blindly hate them anymore, Boomers.”

“She’s not an idiot though. She fully saw the humor in her own name.” says Joe Jr. smiling.

“That’s a very defiant name.” says a Brit. “She’s shoving it all in our adult faces.” She thinks. “I think the English don’t find Buster as…shocking. We know Buster better than you?”

“True.” says Desmond.

“I think Buster is a sad character.” says Lutin.

“He is.” says Lacey.

…”Jack…was Lem like you?” asks the somewhat conservative young American man.

“Maybe?” he says.

“Maybe? Tell me more brother.” he responds, aggressively.

Jack looks awkward. “I don’t play with boys like you.” he says. He smiles.

“You don’t play?!” he asks.

“I get sick.” he says. He coughs.

“Oh, I don’t want to play with you. I want to beat the living shit out of you and smart ass.” he says.

Jack cries. “No! You can’t. My dad won’t let you.”

“Your dad? Where is he?!” he asks.

“I dunno. He runs the world. What does your dad do? He’ll kill you if you lay a hand on me.” Then he winks.

“I bet someone is holding your daddy back. Time to cut the apron strings? …What makes you think I’m a faggot like you?” he responds. “I could shove my fist up your ass, but you wouldn’t like it.”

“I’m not afraid of you?” Jack says.

“Oh yes you are, you lying piece of shit!” says the young man. And at that he punches Jack in the face. Jack’s nose bleeds.

And at that Jack cries like a teenage girl.

“You’re mean!” Jack says between sobs.

“Didn’t Lem literally kill you the other day?” asks the young man.

“Yes! But he’s a real fag!” says Jack. “You can’t take anything he does or says seriously.” He sobs, snot and blood pouring.

“You’re not going to die again, Jack. It’s just a nose bleed.” says the guy. “And your nose should be fine.”

Jack holds his nose, breaths through his mouth.

“You can’t tell them who I really am. If this is the real me.” says Jack.

“Even in 2023?!” the guy asks in shock.

“I’m a sexy-straight. If this is me…I acted constantly just as much as Lem did.” he says. “It’s not complicated. Just let it go! My legacy still matters to me.”

“But it was a hoax.” says that conservative young man.

Softcore by The Neighbourhood plays.

“Joe was your only true king. Right?!” asks the conservative. “And your father lived in denial after he died.”

“I was supposed to be that too.” says Jack.

“But you aren’t and weren’t, buddy.” says the young man. “You’re not king.”

“And I think Lem likes pussy.” says a conservative cool-girl, emerging.

Jack seethes.

“I don’t need you guys!!” he says.

“You don’t need us? For what?” asks the young woman. “For what, Jack?”

He looks at them.

“Who are you people?!” he asks.

“We’re conservatives, Jack.” they say.

He panics. “Where? Who? What state?”

“Most of the Midwest, the South. But there are pockets of us everywhere.” says the guy.

“I never really knew people like you.” he says, thoughtfully. “My father was very protective. So was my mom. They let me think I was the bad guy everywhere. The entire Earth’s somewhat evil superhero.”

“But you did well in WWII?” asks a Catholic.

“Yeah. I had help though.” he admits.

“Did Lem?” the Catholic asks.

“No. We didn’t help him-“ says Jack.

“During the war.” corrects Joe Jr..

“Jack…we’re wondering: were you just gay?” asks a Satanist.

“And the rest is spin?” he asks. “And my desperate attempts to be strong.”

“I wasn’t gay or bisexual either.” says Scott. “As in, you’ve misunderstood me too. Not just Lem.”

“For the record.” says Zelda.

“But don’t you both look gay?” asks a Boomer if Scott.

“Did Zelda look bisexual? Or Hemingway?” asks Scott. “Harold is brilliant too, by the way. Did you catch that?”

“He’s not just a Jewish fool.” says Lily Schiel. Shiel?

“I was basically gay.” says Jack. “I got over women because I never really wanted them in the first place most of the time. I was almost entirely gay.”

“So you were Lem’s complete opposite?” asks a Liberal.

“Yes?” he responds. “I essentially held him hostage psychologically, and to some degree otherwise too.”

“We used Lem. Endlessly. And fed into his gay self-perception and act.” says Jean. “I think dad knew it wasn’t real.”

“It was for Jack’s sake.” says Joe Sr..

“Well…it’s unclear how accurate this is. Or who’s even reading it.” Lacey says. “This is a stretch for me. I worry it’s not fully accurate.” She thinks. “Thinking their roles were purposefully reversed to get political power and that Lem was actually just straight…genuinely shocks me. It always has. Since I first heard it.”

“And what does it make you think?” asks Lutin.

“That I’m sick of this country existing.” says Lacey. “I just want it to become England again.”

“Or Canada?” asks Canada.

“No. It’s-I can’t stand it. You’re such-“ she stops herself. “Maybe we can fight the Civil War again? With different sides. Or just dissolve the Democratic Party forever? You’re such cheap, shitty liars.”

“And that’s if she’s innocent, Lem is straight and Jack is gay. Can you process that? Or do you get lost?”

“I don’t.” says Lutin.

“We serve a purpose though.” says a Hillary.

“Fair enough. But I can’t stand this country. It’s obnoxious. It’s like permanently living in Jack’s fart. And being fascist-forced into worshiping it with my whole essence and then sacrifice my kids to it.” says Lacey. “And when it bothers me and I show it I get violently abused from the inside out.”

The Skakels spiritually grab those in their party remaining. And make a cool exit.

“They look great, Ethel.” says one of her ancestors. “Very pretty and handsome.”

…

Sail (Unlimited Gravity Remix) plays.

“I love Jack! Jack is the-“ the living gay man loses himself. “Jack is…like…one of those straight guys who really are straight.” He touches himself and dances. “He’s so hot. But then you look at Jackie and think. Nah.” He grows flustered. “And I…know I shouldn’t. But…I tempt him. With my body.” He fans himself. “And I’m sure he’s going to say no. As virile, and Catholic, and sexy as he is. Fucking all those hot chicks like Marilyn.” He sighs. “But once I flash him my ass in a thong…he gets hard and we have sex. And he’s mine forever.”

“Why is your ass so…powerful? Turning a straight man gay?” asks Louis.

“It just is.” he says.

“Does he cheat?” asks Lacey.

He thinks. “No! Not on me.” He thinks more. “I’m really different and unique.”

“How?” asks Lacey.

“Because…I just am.” he says. “I don’t know. You figure it out.”

“What if he still sleeps around, demands you let him destroy your mind and life and still passionately and willingly fuck him?” asks Lacey.

“That’s-no-I can do that.” he says. “If Lem can. So can I!” He fumes. “Lem was gay.”

“Tell me about that happy, healthy, sexy life?” asks Lacey. “That exciting, monumental life?”

“You’re Cinderella, bitch. Let’s hear about it.” says Lem.

Beautiful by Snoop Dogg plays.

“We have sex on the weekend.” he says smiling.

“Do you have any self-respect left?” asks Lacey.

“I understand.” he says.

“Then why do you babysit his kids, wash his shitty laundry, clean his house, mow his lawn, manicure his nails, get paid through being owned…like a slave…and then suck his dick on demand? Like…why? Do you date other men to try to get away? But it doesn’t work?” asks Lem.

“No. I don’t date anyone else.” he says.

“Oh yes, you do.” says Lem. “And if not…why do people say you did?”

“People don’t-I didn’t. And if I did it was for Jack. He wanted me to.” he says.

“Do you get happiness out of being an abused sex slave? Bit of a come down from your uber-confident, sexy start?” asks Lacey.

“Yes! I do. I love it.” he says.

Beautiful starts over again.

“So you’re lobotomized?” asks Lacey.

“I let him drill holes in my brain for love. I’m still Cinderella, bitch.” he says.

“Are you sure he loves you?” asks an intellectual.

“Yes! I’m sure!!” he says, his breathing quickening.

“What happens when he beats you near your death several times high on meth?” asks Louis.

“Why would he do that?” asks the gay man.

“You didn’t get him off right, shawty.” says Summertime Sadness.

“But I tried.” he says.

“Doesn’t matter. He’s not happy with you for some reason you can’t help.” says Lacey.

“He loves you just for being you?” asks Lem.

“Yup. He does.” he says.

“What part of your soul does he love?” asks Lacey.

“My inner-child.” laughs the gay man.

“How so?” asks Lacey.

“He-we have matching shirts!” he says.

“That he bought? Or you bought?” asks Lacey.

“He bought? Because he controls everything.” he says.

“So he loves your inner child or abuses you by tapping into your deepest fears and vulnerabilities?” asks Lacey.

“More the latter to be honest.” he says.

“Are you in an abusive relationship and need to get out?” asks Lacey.

“Yup! And you know…it’d be ironic if I wasn’t even gay.” he says.

“Yeah. But you are?” asks Lacey.

“Yes. For now. You know…I….think I can find another Prince Charming.” he says.

“Not a loser who gets rejected or has flaws like me?” asks Michael.

“No. He has to be glorious. Like Rock Hudson. But with old-money.” he says.

“I never found Rock Hudson all that appealing.” says Lacey. “But he seems…handsome, smart and possibly nice?”

“Why?” he asks.

“There was something cold and untouchable about him. Not cold as in mean, but I didn’t know either way.” says Lacey.

Later.

“I don’t want to hear about your sex life, mom!” says a Boomer to Lacey.

“She’s 40 and you’re how old? 70?” asks Lem.

“And you’re stalking her.” says Michael.

“Things don’t have to make sense anymore. We are better than that.” he says.

“Do all Boomers think like you?” Lacey asks.

“No. I’m a liberal elite genius.” he says with wrath.

“Why are all Democrats suddenly so stupid?!” asks an actress.

…

“Okay. Have a good day.” says Lacey.

“Can we say it’s Lem?” asks an English actress.

“Yes.” says God?

…

“Wait…that was God?” asks The Charismatic. He laughs. “What is she talking about? And…was the actual God of the Bible? …There’s proof hearing from God isn’t just something that happens to me.”

“Yes. He’s answering my question. Thank you.” she says to the Charismatic.

…

“You know, the English worship Jesus Christ.” says a dead Queen.

“Jesus Christ as in the Son of God. As in, a part of the Holy Trinity.” says Lacey.

…

“Let’s call The Charismatic Summertime Sadness.” says a Lana, kindly.

“Maybe that is wise?” wonders Lacey.

“Why?!” he asks.

“Because you brought a lot sadness to Lacey last summer. And it affected everybody.” a Lana says. “You should be far less flippant about certain things.” She thinks more. “She’s almost 40. And we’re the Illuminati. …Your response has been…mixed. Some hate. Some suspicion. Some Christian support.”

“I think she’s just schizophrenic.” says a female friend of his.

“And I don’t.” says another friend of his. “I think the Illuminati could easily be stalking her.”

“Why would we be stalking her?” asks a Lana of the second friend. “Are you a conspiracy theorist?”

“Yeah. I am.” he says. “And as far why they’d be stalking her? Hmm. Let’s see. What’s most obvious? Oil.” He shrugs. “It’s cool that her possibly mostly Christian family has so much oil but…it’s a crap time to be in their position.”

“Why do you think her family is mostly Christian?” asks Summertime Sadness.

“They must be.” he says.

“Huh.” says Summertime Sadness.

“She has that- They seem more old-money, bunkers, possibly Liberal but…also conspiracy theorist aesthetic.” he says.

“Maybe I just don’t like her.” says the female friend of Summertime Sadness.

“Yeah. Probably.” says a Lana.

“A lot of people don’t like me.” says Lacey.

…

Adventures In Your Own Backyard by Patrick Watson plays.

A train passes through Jackie Kennedy’s backyard. She stands, fists on her hips, watching it pass by. Like the classic photo of her wearing the Cartier Tank.

Then it’s Lem and Lacey as teenagers. In West Virginia. In the 1980’s. At the same time.

Lem is quiet. He shrugs a lot. Sometimes takes drags off cigarettes and does a gay impersonation or is gay? The crowd of friends he’s fallen in with don’t know. He’s so quiet. But he smiles a lot. Is always in a good mood.

These teenagers are slightly bothered by it.

“Why is he so quiet?!” a girl asks her boyfriend away from a campfire one summer night.

Her boyfriend looks down at the ground and squints, kicks the dirt with the tip of his sneaker.

“Maybe he’s an idiot.” says the guy, with some compassion.

“Yeah. But I kind of doubt that.” she says, lighting a cigarette.

Not Impossible by Cults plays.

Then Lacey moves into town. And her and Lem start dating. They seem to be in love.

Lacey has an attitude. She’s outspoken. But she’s still Lacey…

Suddenly Lem starts talking more too. And we find out a lot.

These friends have a suspicious reaction at first, but they’re also concerned.

But that didn’t happen. Sadly, or not.

…

The train passes entirely by Jackie’s house. Crickets chirp. The sound of a summer night returns.

She reaches out her hand and light emerges. The light of Heaven. It starts with a beam on the tip of her pointer finger and then stretches out until it becomes everywhere and everything.

It’s beautiful to be dead and with God.

But you can’t go until it’s your time.

Sorry.

Does that make you angry?

Quiet Crowd by Patrick Watson plays.

“You know what makes me angry? This.” says Bobby Sr. about East Palestine in 2023. In February.

“If they only knew.” says Joe Jr. to Bobby in anger. “I hate what we allowed.” He seethes. “I hate it all! Do you?” He pushes Bobby. “Do you think I appreciate the extra trouble?”

“I was just as messed-up as you.” Bobby says.

“And now what?!?” Joe asks.

“She has no way of knowing. No way.” says Joe.

Bobby cries and looks away in sadness.

“They have no way of knowing either.” says Bobby, collecting himself.

“Are we demons? Are we in Ourselves? Are we in Purgatory? And yet…for her this her main source of comfort. And she hopes desperately that it’s from God. We can’t mess with that.” says Joe. “You can’t be two-faced right now.” He thinks. “Do you understand?”

“Why not Lem?” Bobby asks.

“That’s who it should be.” says Joe.

Bobby smiles.

Then they look at each other thoughtfully. In silence. Then they laugh.

“Let’s not tell anyone.” says Joe. “It’s not right. You know?”

Bobby nods. He grins, thoughtfully.

They start to walk off.

“When?!” Bobby asks Joe.

The sounds of crashing trains.

“Before this!!” yells Bobby. Joe walks up to him, their faces lit by the flames.

“She liked him better anyway.” says Joe.

The sound of flames.

“I can’t accept it.” says Joe.

“She has to. Daily.” says Bobby.

“Funny. I feel so bad for the living.” says Joe.

“And their families?” asks Bobby Jr..

“Yes. Life is so…long.” he says.

“Kinda makes you think. Doesn’t it?” asks Bobby.

“Yeah. It puts what really matters in death into perspective.” says Joe.

“Well…I’ll certainly be holding my kids and grandkids and great grandchildren closer tonight.” says Bobby daringly.

“And yet, one shouldn’t die until it’s the right time.” says Lacey.

“Yes! You’re right.” says Bobby.

“Yes.” says Joe sadly. Sadly because life is getting far more harsh indeed.

“I should stop writing about you guys.” says Lacey. “It’s probably just scaring people.”

Lem approaches the flames near the track. There was a time break between their conversation and Lacey’s comment.

“Why did you think you could be Pat reincarnated?” Joe asks Lacey.

“I thought you had told me that. And I wondered if it could somehow be in Christianity, I think.” says Lacey.

“Well you’re not!” says Joe. “And I didn’t.”

“What was that?” she asks.

“I told you something that sounded like that. I’m sorry.” he says. “But you were talking to the dead. And you’re not supposed to.”

“What were you trying to tell me?” she asks.

“That we were able to be married. Had the circumstances been right.” he says.

“But you were already talking to Scott because you were so deeply sad.” says Bobby.

“I hate it.” says Lacey.

“Your body would be completely dead right now if not for your medication. And that’s when it would have died.” he says. “You were literally ready to die.”

“When Scott started talking to her. That was right before they found her need for medication.” says Lem.

“What would I have died from?” asks Lacey.

“A heart attack.” says Louis from behind, joining them.

“But does everyone want to die when their body has serious problems?” asks Lacey.

“No.” says Joe.

“The way it happened to you…was sort of like that though.” says Louis.

“As a pilot it’s kinda cool. Like…your body went into autopilot when you couldn’t consciously find the right response.” says a dead pilot. “Of course, it’s awful. But…you were a Christian. And you survived for your kids.”

“And that’s extremely serious.” says Lem.

“It’s so difficult to believe that you’re ghosts. But…I don’t think really I thought once about Heaven. I was under the impression that I’d have grace to be sexless and dull when I died.” says Lacey. “As in, if I could properly live this life. And be happy being married and having a family I’d have grace to die and be…bland and miserable for eternity.” She thinks. “I was really looking forward to being in love.”

“Why bland and miserable?” asks Lem.

“Because I was taught that we just spend all the time worshiping God because we become so mindlessly in awe of Him for eternity that that’s all we do. …And when you’re forced to sing sex songs to Jesus…it seems especially plausible.” says Lacey.

“But that’s amazing!” says Lem sarcastically. “Can you imagine being so in awe of God that all you want to do is sing. Constantly! Forever?!?”

“But God is too crappy and dumb in the churches I grew-up in to understand that we worship God when we do anything He created for His glory with our whole heart.” says Lacey.

Lose Yourself by Eminem plays.

“I love this song.” says Michael.

“It’s worship music to me. In a way.” says Lacey.

“No. It’s poetry.” says Scott. “It’s the heart that matters. And the spirit.”

“How many times has this song helped soldiers lose themselves in the Holy Spirit during war?” asks Harold Nesheim. “When you’re fighting for a country you think is God’s and you’re a Christian you cling to something powerful.”

“When you’re dropping bombs in a plane. This what you listen to. In your head, at least. Not kissing-Jesus bullshit.” says a dead soldier.

“He goes home…and barely knows his own daughter.” says Lacey. “That’s a self-criticism. That’s his moral compass. That’s not pedophilic. That’s resistance against evil.”

“That’s the price we pay as Americans.” says Harold Nesheim. “Make me king! Except…of what country? Where? And…you fight because you want to be a good man. But it’s not so simple.”

“The price. That you just don’t know. And you have to trust to build something you think will matter.” says Lem.

“But…the spirit goes beyond the country.” says Lacey. “It belongs to God if we let it. …And since the spirit transcends the music can be used as a weapon against evil.”

“So the song by Eminem can be warfare against evil.” says Michael to Summertime Sadness should he be reading her blog.

“It’s glaringly obvious she’s desperately trying to be a Christian and you’re kind of a troll to her at times.” says a reader of her blog who followed him for a while. “I’m not sure why you got so hurt by her? But…I have a feeling you didn’t do due diligence.” She laughs. “Catch my drift? …Be careful with all that hate directed towards her. It’s so self-destructive in your case in particular.”

“He’s too self-important to follow you? Then why do his feelings matter so much?!” says Mr. Blue to Lacey. “I’m a hateful, cowardly poser. Should I be who I am… But I was never offended when she unfollowed me. …Did I call her once? Maybe. I didn’t entirely ignore her, I’ll put it that way. …She read me. Like a psychic. But she didn’t realize it. It was the same image to word to image to telepathy type of concept used in the Illuminati. …Was she being set up to be killed? Or was it an accident? Either way…she isn’t schizophrenic. Right? That’s what professionals say. So…then what? Be careful dude.”

“Has he been used to harass her?” asks his conspiratorial friend.

Mr. Blue nods.

“She’s just a dumb, white, rich-bitch? Right? A slutty housewife?” asks a Lana sarcastically.

“Wait! Why did she unfollow?” asks his friend.

“She unfollowed him because it was spiritually necessary.” says Lacey.

Lem sighs. “Anyway, I’m sorry she had the impression she was with demons. Or her imagination.”

“Because if these are men?!” says a black man sitting on his porch in Philadelphia in the summer. He laughs. He cackles. It highly amuses him. He shakes his head no. “Listen, she’s taken.” He smiles. “She don’t know it. How can she?!” He sighs, sadly. “But if we’re men…”

His once-wife joins him with peas to shell.

“It’s eternity.” she says. “And that sounds scary. Doesn’t it? But it’s not. If you’re a Christian you’re living with God right now.”

“He didn’t come to make us slaves. Or sad, lonely men and women.” says the man. “For eternity.”

“I’m done writing. Okay? Pray. Because you can’t straighten out every misunderstanding.” says Lem.

“I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it all. Especially you.” says Lacey.

“Was there a split second when you saw me when you thought I could love you?” asks Lem.

“A split second?” asks Lacey.

He thinks.

Gasoline plays.

“It doesn’t even matter. You barely remember it if it happened.” he says. “It’s been destroyed. All you recall that’s beautiful is how much you wanted me. And how odd it was that they thought I was gay.”

“That really confused you?” asks an actress.

“It made me question light.” says Lacey. “Like actual light itself.”

“Why?!” she asks.

“Just…instinctually. Like…if he’s gay…something about actual light seemed…suspect.” says Lacey.

“What about light?” asks someone.

Lacey thinks. “He was there?” She thinks. “Like…as a teenager. And…if he’d been categorized as being attracted to women at all I’d have felt so much hope. But instead I just had Jack bullying me mercilessly every time I looked at him. So…I moved on. Or just…categorized it as a secret mystery.”

“So the ass photo would have meant what to you?” asks an aging gay man.

“Honestly? Not much.” says Lacey.

“But that’s because you’re homophobic!” says someone sarcastically to Lacey. “You choose not to see the sexual nature of that hot, sexy, sizzling photo.”

“Wait! What about that cover of her with Michael? Or like…most of Lana Del Rey?” asks a Gen Xer. “What does she mean? Let’s ask ourselves that.”

A dancer from 1960’s Hollywood does a gay impersonation and then drops it totally suddenly. He was straight. But the dance was convincing.

“Fine! What does it mean?” asks a hater of z Lacey.

“Can’t you read?!” asks Lacey. “Or are you an idiot?!”

Michael stares at naked, dark skinned, occasionally handsome, sweaty men. He shoots photo after photo.

Years later he’s written about as a man who had a love affair with a male professor.

In 2022…his ghost may have come on to Lacey. A cis, straight woman.

“Was I supposed to be scared? Or what? What’s the reaction I was supposed to have?” asks Lacey. “Because it’s not a real issue for Michael and me at all.”

The gay man just shakes his head.

“Isn’t that…kinda fishy?” wonders Lacey.

“So it’s…blasé?” asks a gay man in his 30’s.

Lacey nods yes. “Yes. It’s beyond dull.” She thinks. “Homosexuality is a simple concept. It’s either right or wrong. But regardless it’s quite ordinary.”

They think.

“I’m not sure why it’s become such a ‘thing’ in American society?” asks Lacey. “In Michael’s case…he likely lusted after women too.” She thinks. “The point is he’s been incredibly faithful to me. Incredibly loving.”

“It’s just so…” starts a gay man. “Like…why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m not doing anything to you. You sound insane.” says Lacey.

“Okay?! Then what’s all this bullying shit about? From Jack? Like Jack didn’t have right?” he asks in a rage.

Lacey sighs.

“Oh no! Don’t start getting all nicey-nice.” he says, fuming.

“Lem didn’t seem gay to me. When I first saw him. He seemed straight. …Like Louis was straight. Actually, he and Harold and Louis are a lot alike sexually.” She thinks. “And it shocked me and then traumatized me to see Jack refuting that.” She thinks more. “And with such violence. His smile as he leans over Lem looks like that of my absolute worst bullies growing-up.” She pauses. “Lem looks…like he’s trying to enjoy himself and be pleasing. Like if I’d been in a bad mood in bed. He’s trying so hard to be loving. And Jack looks so arrogant, so victorious, conceited, possibly quiet happy and yet ignorant about what a great man he’s fooled. Stolen. Demolished. He doesn’t deserve an ounce of the attention much less love and sex Lem is giving him.” She thinks. “But we don’t hear that they struggled or that Lem might have been unhappy or that he ruined his life possibly or that he might have been bisexual at least…and Jack gay. And Jack a bully. Who used and abused Lem who felt…possibly great psychological distress. How Jack repressed his feelings? How he was bullied and then bullied? …And why Lem? The hot, sweet, vulnerable old-money Episcopalian?” She thinks. “We’ve cast it as Lem being hot for Jack. How do you know Jack didn’t come on to him? And then cover-up for it? How do you know Jack didn’t lie? Or that Joe Sr. or another Kennedy didn’t spin the story? …That famous response from Jack? Might Jack have been trying to claim that they weren’t lovers after Jack came on to him and Lem was trying to legitimize it somehow? ….That’s what that whole ‘Get off it!’ business was about? Or no? What if Jack found Lem to ‘release his tensions?’ Based on rumors about Lem at school. And Jack was just extremely manipulative?”

He grows silent.

“Yeah, okay.” he says.

“So if that’s all actually true, then why don’t you owe me an apology?” asks Lacey.

“I’m not a hateful person.” he insists. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, and obviously I don’t know exactly what happened. But I do know I’m not homosexual or homophobic.” says Lacey.

“Do you think I meant that apology?” he asks.

“No.” says Lacey. “You seem demonically influenced.”

“I just… And maybe I am. I drink too much. But…he’s like our Cinderella.” he says.

“So you’re demanding I care?” responds Lacey.

“Yes.” says another gay man.

“Wow.” says Lacey.

She thinks. “Well, it’s possibly an evil, dangerous, vile lie. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t warn you.” She thinks more. “I can’t stop you from believing possibly disgusting bullshit.”

He thinks. “I see your point.” He breathes. “See if Lem was raped and gave in because he was molested…then yeah. The story is ruined. However pretty it was. …And obviously I appreciate the heads-up.”

They think.

“So you feel personally attacked?” he asks.

“You are very much personally attacking me. But I’m trying be to be kind.” says Lacey.

“Then why didn’t he just come for you?!” he asks.

“When?” asks Lacey.

“When he was dead. Like…why did Joe get first dibs?” he asks.

“Because I fucked the Hell up!” yells Lem in the man’s face spiritually.

The Loudest Perfume Hater cracks-up laughing.

“So, Cinder-“ starts another man teasingly to Lem to lighten the mood, but Lacey warns him kindly to stop.

“I refuse to believe that that’s Lem.” says another gay man.

Summertime Sadness laughs.

“Why?! Why is this funny to you?!” asks the first gay man who wants to believe Lem was gay-Cinderella.

“Because you’re an idiot!” says Summertime Sadness.

“Aww. Thanks. How?!” he asks.

“You do have demons working with you.” he says. “I can sense them too.” He thinks. “Okay, Cinderella is a woman. That’s the first important point. Secondly, a woman marrying a literal prince. …I can kinda see where you can stretch the reality of Lem and Jack to resemble-ish that. But it’s not a clean cut.” He scoffs. “But most disturbingly you are so tone deaf. Why are you on this blog?! Huh?” He smiles. “Why are you not getting it?! …Lem got some trappings of wealth and glamour but he didn’t get acknowledged, or loved, or respected. And he had no life of his own.” He blinks. “You people are such fools. You’ve totally misunderstood or lied about what he actually meant in his oft quoted comment about his room in the White House. …You lack a sense of irony?” He fumes. “He asks if it was better to be in the constant company of a man who he seems to be over-complimenting…or to be able to have his own life.” He seethes. “Huh? Isn’t it weird how he uses the phrase, ‘my own’ very pointedly?” He laughs. “It’s so like men to miss these things.” He shrugs. “We assume our mate loves us and everything is fine. We miss all the subtle cues.”

The gay men shifts awkwardly.

“You think you’re Jack? Or Lem? Why do you miss the subtle cues of Lem’s unhappiness? And bullheadedly, and violently, and in huge toxic-masculinity insist on being treated with respect you aren’t giving Lem as a historical figure who’s 100% real. Lacey hasn’t factually misrepresented him at all, in my humble opinion.” He thinks. “I think you don’t get it. You’ve very likely sided with a sex-predator to get a fairytale.” He laughs. “Common enough.” He shrugs.

“But what about when Lem does the big-eyed, gay shrug thing?” he asks Lacey.

“No.” says Lacey. “That’s not convincing evidence.”

“Why?” several gay men ask.

She smiles. “I don’t know how I know that almost for certain, but I do. …Here’s the big thing though: I find him really attractive. Okay?”

“No! No! No, you don’t.” he insists.

“Yes! I do. And I always have.” says Lacey. “And I’ve seen him. Since I possibly started talking to his ghost I looked up photos of him. And studied them. And he…he has these moments where he-“

“No, no.” he says.

“Wow, that’s odd if you’re really saying that. …Anyway, he has these moments where he slips. And he makes straight sexual micro-gestures. Or what would you call them? Movements?” says Lacey.

“No!” he says.

“And in those moments he isn’t performing. Everyone has seconds or minutes like that. Actually, in those moments we often find out people are gay.” says Lacey.

“Kay?” says a Liberal hater rolling their eyes.

“She’s going to beat the shit out of you in a moment right?” a fellow Liberal hater mocks Lacey to the others. “She’s so angry.”

“How is what I’m saying not true?!” she asks.

But they just mock her.

Then…they suddenly grow silent.

“I hate you!!” screams an Liberal actress at z Lacey in her spirit. “It’s about money! And social class.”

“Louis Bayard’s novel proves that.” says one of them. “He hints that Lem might have been at least bisexual.”

“Yup! …I think we’re actually attached to the myth, should it be one, because it’s comforting for social class reasons. And possibly nothing else. Making Lem a pretty peasant is…revealing.” says the Liberal actress.

“You’re right about Michael. If he’d married a man…I wouldn’t be as excited.” says the gay man. “I think Jack’s glamorous image…and the Kennedy mystique of…Irish peasants turning into royalty in the White House…is significant.” He thinks. “And you’ve said as much.”

“You also hate when she’s happy.” say Summertime Sadness.

“You’re weirdly fixated on her.” says a lesbian. “Someday if you find out what she’s saying is true…don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Some of them have personality disorders.” explains a Lana.

Lacey laughs.

“Well…I best go.” says Lacey.

“Lacey Billings.” says Lem.

They seethe.

(Adult content below)

“I’m in love with her. Her pussy feels so dang good on my cock.” Lem says to the gay-Cinderella fan.

“You know, that’s nice Lem. Do you have anything else you’d like to share?” he asks, pretending he’s talking to a façade or a fake.

“Mmm.” says Lem. “Like what?”

“Tell me more about your cock!” he says.

“It’s my cock.” says Lem.

Silence.

More silence.

Still more silence.

“I have a cock too!” says Michael.

The gay man laughs. “Okay. Great.”

“Why is that great? Wouldn’t it be cooler to have like..4 or so?” asks Michael.

Ernest Hemingway finds this hilarious.

“I dunno. Why?” asks the man.

“Because you could really use them. Think about it!” says Michael. “Lose one? No problem. Lose two? Still fine. It’d be a comforting thought.”

Hemingway laughs again.

“And having sex?! Vastly improved.” says Michael.

“How many penises do aliens have?” asks Summertime Sadness.

“Four? If they even exist?” asks Michael jokingly.

“Yup, that’s what I wondered.” he says. “It’s probably just your sense of humor, but…”

“So Lem…you’re going to go have sex with-“ the gay man makes an eww face. “With Lacey?” Then he cringes.

“No, with me.” says Michael. “She’s confused and being lied to. It’s me. Every time.”

“So…you’re having threesomes with Jack?” asks the gay man.

“No. It’s just the two of us. Every time. It’s very hot.” he says assuredly.

“Wait!” says a Muslim trying to be kind. But he is told to be careful.

“Am I the butt of a joke?” laughs the gay man.

“No. Wanna hear how I do it?!” asks Michael.

“Sure!” he says.

“I watch Lacey get naked. Then I stare at her tits. And my cock gets hard. Then when she’s fully naked I slide into her vagina. Then I get off. And she gets off. And I hold her. And we fall asleep.” Michael says.

“Where’s the gay sex with Lem?” he asks.

“Actually, that’s not what happens.” says Lem.

“No. That’s true. I was just joking.” says Michael. “But it’s fascinating how you interpret things in a certain way. You see what you want. Now try to figure out what I actually meant. Or don’t. I don’t trust you. At all.”

“He doesn’t sleep with her anymore. I ended that.” says Lem. “Your lies are actually lies. Now, stop imagining you have a clue when it comes to my sexuality. It’s what I’ve said. …Or ignore this blog. And stop sending death after Lacey. It’s ruining you.”

“You liked my sex story. Huh. Maybe you’re just mentally I’ll. Maybe when you’re dead you can fuck a woman!? Or no?? Be careful.” says Michael.

“Why did you share that?” he asks.

“To scare you. It’s late. You’re a psychic. I thought you’d enjoy a good gross, creepy horror story before bed?” asks Michael. “Or maybe I’m up to something. Now, what is it? Do you know? No. You do not.” says Michael.

“I’m off bed. With Lacey. Goodnight.” says Lem.

“It’s a heterosexual pride post!” says Michael. “And you’re our best anti-hero.”

“Well done!” says Lem. “You set out to protect me from harm and you played a great example of a fool. Perfect example of what not to do with the lies we are fed to be happy with other people’s pain if it’s not our own. You knew how much pain she is and was in. You’re a fraud. Stop being coy. And I’m no more gay than she is a lesbian. Never was! Goodnight!”

“I still think he wants it!” says a Satanist.

“Jack’s dick shoved in my mouth if I get him off or threatened to be shoved up my ass if I don’t?” asks Lem.

“That’s hot! You liked it!” he says.

“No. I was raped. I HATED Jack. …Stop forcing that family on me. I’m trying to be nice. But it’s actually really difficult. I-I hated him. I was straight. And he treated me like shit. He had no awareness of me or he ignored what he saw if it was too much truth. …And I ruined myself. And my life. It’s a tale of a tragic family…and a ruthless man named Jack Kennedy who used people.” says Lem. “I HATE him.” He fumes. “I hate him.”

“Nighty night!” says Michael to the gay man. “Don’t get off tonight on thoughts of Lacey. I’m serious… Like…so serious.”

—