Gonzo Marketing:Winning Through Worst Practices The Bombast Transcripts: Rants and Screeds of RageBoy
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Friday, July 18, 2008
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Chapter 6

"I think I was Princess Marie von Thurn und Taxis in a previous life," she said.

"You would," he said. "This is more of your Rilke fantasy, isn't it?"

"What if it is?" she said.

"I think you were Lotte Lenya," he said. "In that Threepenny thing."

"Oooh!" she said, "I'll give you thruppence!" Then she sang in a deep sonorous voice, "...und ein Schiff mit acht Segeln..."

"Yeah," he said, "and mit fünfzig Kanonen. More your style. Admit it, you're a fuckin pirate."

"We need to find a medium," she said.

"A happy one, I hope." Then, "What are you talking about?"

"I just read my horoscope. Wanna hear?"

"Sure, why not."

"Quote 'You're getting along with others to an astounding degree -- it's like your every communication is received with total comprehension. Even plants and buildings seem to understand you.' End quote."

"Wow. Buildings even. What have you been telling them?"

"About Princess Marie. And they don't give me any backsass like you do."

"Want to hear mine?" he asked.

"Your backsass?"

"No, my horoscope." He read, "The production and management of negative affect remains a central tool of the national security state."

"That's not a horoscope," she said.

"You're right." he said. "It was in an email I just got from Wiley-Blackwell about a journal called Cultural Anthropology."

"How is it you're getting email in interwar Alexandria?"

"Sub-ether shunt," he said, "via flash forward into the Akashic Records. Brewster Kahle will invent it in 1995."

"Hold on a minute," she said, then went into a trance. He watched as her wings unfurled and she stood there perfectly still for nearly an hour. When she came out of it, she had a faraway look in her eyes.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

"What was what?"

"That. Where did you just go?"

"I was giving thanks to my creator."

"I see," he said. He was not comfortable with religion. In beautiful women, it made him jealous. "And how do you 'give thanks'?"

"I sent him an Anima dream," she said. "With a capital A."

"How does that work?"

"I take him in my arms," she said. "He feels he has known me forever."

"And has he?"

"I suspect he has," she said. "And he misses me terribly between times."

"Between what times?"

"Between the times I stop to give thanks to him."

"That's such bullshit," he said.

"You should be careful," she said. "You could disappear from the story altogether."

"Nonsense!" he said.

She was fixing her hair in the mirror. When she turned to face him the room was empty. She laughed.

"Can't say I didn't warn you," she said, apparently to no one. Then throwing her head back and looking up she said, "And thank you for these lovely feathers, too."

A voice came out of the air: "You're more than welcome, Sweetie. Any time."

7:51 AM | link |

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"RageBoy: Giving being fucking nuts a good name since 1985."
~D. Weinberger
28 October 2004

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