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Casey Fisher Books

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“She finished cleaning him off and then held her baby boy up high to behold this new wonder in his full glory. The brilliant glimmers dancing upon the restive sea as his halo and the winged legions to announce and to extol his arrival and the eternal tide rhythmically whispering of deeds long foreseen. The light and the song and the abiding heart. Creation in its purest form. It was to this divine ensemble that Isa lifted her voice to give name to the precious enigma that she knew would elevate the harmony of all things to realms transcendent.”

“But in that moment, they already saw him as a lucid vision from the nostalgic past like when a deceased loved one visits you in a dream and you wrap them up in your arms and refuse to let go until you wake up tightly clutching your pillow and crying into it, and still you refuse to let go.”

“Joshua took another small sip from his wine glass as his gaze and his thoughts drifted away from the flat-screen television mounted above the marbled fireplace to ponder a roomful of sports jackets and pantsuits and in some cases cocktail dresses but only of neutral tones and minimal detailing if for no other reason than to avoid becoming the subject of the next petty scandal that would nevertheless send shockwaves through their haughty and insular world. The way they stood in their intimate clusters. Their drink glasses held in various poses of sophistication. And whenever they did bring glass to mouth in accordance with judiciously preset intervals it was also for show, as he believed was true of their subdued conversations, which, from where he was sitting, appeared to be nothing more than the unintelligible murmurings of barely moving lips. A whole list of observations came to mind. Not one of them flattering in any way. The atmosphere thick with that certain stuffiness and elitist redolence of an ivy league alumni fundraising gala. Of course, he readily admitted to himself that out of everyone in the room he was very likely the most materially bereft and least credentialed and that this stinging truth undoubtedly inflamed his plebeian impulse. But that’s not what was bugging him.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Karen groaned, feeling suddenly very feisty. “I just don’t think anyone with a loose appendage swinging between their legs—which we know corresponds to a loose screw in the brain—could ever be trusted with something as delicate as the well-being of someone not similarly encumbered.”

“In this case Karen’s child was her story. And all the world was waiting greedily for its deliverance even if they didn’t yet know its name or the uncomfortable shape of it and the peculiar contours that altogether were sure to test the foundations upon which they had built their holiest of houses and coziest of dens. They only knew that all of history was in want of a definitive accounting and that such had already been written and then ensepulchered by prophets unsung and that their eventual unveiling was nothing less than the birthright of all humankind.”

“But on the ground in modern day, the gap-toothed border wall on the U.S. side was in the advanced stages of decay. It was an unsightly, rusted monstrosity, thoughtlessly imposing itself through the cacti masses who, until a few decades ago, had been peacefully congregating for millions of years along what was now an arbitrary line begging to be taken seriously.”

“The well-worn track was as straight as Gadsden’s ruler when the nineteenth-century U.S. diplomat had negotiated yet another strong-armed acquisition of Mexican territory to give Arizona its geometrically pleasing southern boundary. Pleasing on paper, anyway.”

“That’s right, bud. My personal apocalypse has been going on for a while now, since my name became the grossest fucking meme ever. And what, you think all the Karens of the world just upped and went to their own fucking island somewhere where we could all get bob cuts and drink caramel appletinis all day while calling the cops on imaginary black people? I mean, hello, we still walk among you.”

“You gotta problem with Karens? Well, shit-stache, you just drew the Queen of all fucking Karens! Except I’m not going to demand to speak with your manager. I’m just going to fucking cut you unless you get this rolling fartbox of yours in motion toward the North Cove Yacht Harbor!”

“He thought about the loss of humanity that was eating away at the world and the loss of the connection to the self that ate away at the consciousness which animated all into being. He thought about how the collective psyche was teetering on that knife’s edge between a desperation to live and a desperation to die. And here he was at the cusp of it himself.”

“Traffic slowed as they entered Fort Washakie with everyone rubbernecking the spirited powwow taking place in an empty field just off the main road. Most of the audience gathered round was non-native. But everyone there was stomping and clapping and surrendering themselves to the rhythmic spell of the drums, much like the performers themselves, and the dust of the earth which coalesced with their smoky breath to envelope them together in a billowing cone of palpitation. And Joshua sat there at the stop sign a little too long because he couldn’t bring himself to look away. But no one inside the VW or in the other cars cared, or even noticed, because they were doing the same.”

“But for those who spawned them and then forgot them to exist, it seemed there was only one thing that could momentarily draw them away from the kinds of blithe exchanges which he did not doubt carried real-world consequences for real people and other living things that must have existed only in theory in their spreadsheet and accounting ledger minds.”

“There was only that bobbing bundle of stringy, dirty-blonde hair fading into a sea of other heads bobbing and faces coming and going, of storylines intersecting and entwining and then fraying only to become irretrievably lost in the interminable wave-pattern of curiosities fleeting and nothingness everlasting.”

“She had poofy, teased-out brown hair that bounced off her shoulders with every high-flying skip and on her t-shirt was a spiraled sun with little wavy lines jumping off it to match the little wavy distortions in the air that were jumping off her. It was pure, unbridled energy and the sound of it hummed in his ears like when standing dangerously near a power transformer. Or maybe he was witnessing the origin story of the world’s first real superhero, and if so, she was probably going to draw her powers from the electromagnetic field itself.”

“But then one voice arose from the babbling clamor to silence them all. It was a voice he hadn’t heard in a while. Steady and self-assured and not really worried about what bad things may or may not happen because bad things and good things seemed to always be taking turns anyway in what was really just the harmonic polyrhythm of an intrinsic symphony perpetually flowing and interweaving.”

“The blast blew a hole in the smack middle of the strange Utopia vision before him and shook the dust out of the plywood roof which rained down on his head in a barrage of spiraled tendrils. It was through a fit of coughing and ears ringing that Jarvis had returned to himself. Spirit, mind and body reuniting in a Pentecostal collision. Once again, he was immersed in that role he could not seem to escape.”

“But wouldn’t it be more effective in the end to appeal to the moral consciousness of the citizens of the wealthy and powerful nations of the world, rather than antagonize them?” “Sure, and I suppose the fly, in navigating the web so thoughtfully spun for it, should always take care to appeal to the spider’s moral sensibilities whenever it comes skittering around.”

“The next revolution is knowing that you are dead already. I, Joshua Newton, am dust. I am blowing across continents and oceans. I’m an exploding ball of fire, hurtling through space in a million different directions. I am distant light and distant worlds and distant life.”