LATENIGHTTOPTEN

you are not the sum total of your parts

you are not what you are or hpw you are or why you are but because you are ... #becauseGOD

and the radio played on.  Something was off here.  The passenger sat in the back.  The passenger,  helpless, hopeless?  Unknown.  The passenger listened to the radio, song after song after song all wrong.  The passenger heard, "I'm goin' back to the past..." and "Runnin' with the devil"...  The passenger, riding along.  And the radio played on.  Something from Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, when unknown, the character speaks directly to the audience, in this case, the passengers in the car looked directly at the camera.  And those villanous hippies plotted murder in that car, murder to solve murder.  So, the passenger in the front seat, leaned back and plotted murder, "The place you were was good, free food, free teevee, free everything.  God doesn't want you to have this much freedom, now, doesee?"  "Waddya think."  The passenger thought.  The radio stopped.  The sky grew dark.  The fix was on.  Darkness.

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backfromthegeneticrevolution DanielFullerton began 1986 resume 20230825 0928 ESTrom thefrfromBACK 

from 

THE GENETIC REVOLUTION

And so I drove all night, listening to Sin-dy Lauper on the radio.  Occasionally, static would break in, but mostly, if I kept on driving, it went away.  It wasn't just dark this particular night, it was very dark.  It was as if someone, or some thing, wrapped a blanket named dark across the night sky.  Not only were there no stars, it was almost as if someone had stolen them, and replaced them with rock-n-roll stars, that instead of shining, sucked the life out of whoever looked there.  

And that was all before the eleventh-hour.  I had some serious business to take care of on the other side of this night.  Not money, not sex, but recognition.  I was soon to sign a contract to be one to have Flown This Acid World.  Me and LLOYD Cole, we were in it together.  I was on my way, baby!  On the other side of midnight and 666 miles of highway I was going to finally be recognized as the man who beat the law, smarter than D.B. Cooper, badder than Ol' LeRoy Brown, and Slimmer than the Real Slim Shady.  Yup, two passports, two new names.  Recognition.  Freedom.  Just on the other side of midnight.  And it was close now...  11:59.  Just a few more miles on this empty highway, let's get it up to 100.  Ahhh, I feel the need, the need for speed.  K'chou.  Okay, 11:59.  Let's see, how fast can this baby run?  125.  Time for a fast smoke,   Let's just roll this wi - What is happening??

Sindy Lauper again.  Clock says 11:59.  What is all this glass doing here?  Where's the rest of the Hellcat?  Why can't I see anything on my left.  Oh, eye back socket.  OWWWWWW!  This tastes like blood.  Pftt.  More static.  Still 11:59.  Still 11:59.  Still 11:59.

And so it goes, and so it goes, my Downeaster Alexa.  The storm came, a little Lato.  Somehow, it got even darker.  Garth Brooks came over the radio, "And the Thunder Rolled."  And now, it was getting red out.  The rain stung on my forehead.  I just needed to get to some cover.  Somehow back in the decimated car.  I could drag me easily.  11:59, I could have just enough time if I, if I.  I must have passed out.  Must have been all those quaaludes I took.  Let's see.  A quick inventory.  11:59, check.  Radio on, and Megadeath blaring, check.  Empty front seat, and old man in back seat, check.  What?!!  

"Hey young man, thanks for the ride."

"..."

"I didn't think I would make it this far on a night like this with just a raincoat and a prayer.  Thanks a million."

"..........."

"I tell ya I don't know what's gotten into people these days.  They know that it's awful out, and they just drive right on by.  If I had a nickel for every car that drove by I'd be a rich man."

"A nickel?"

"I wonder if I could bum a fag off 'ya"

"Fag?"

"Lemme just say that this is one nice car you have here.  I have always been a fan of Range Rovers, a nice RnR, yes sir, and especially a new one like this.  It must mean that you are a success!"

"RnR?"

David Lee and Eddie Van and something about Hell.

My, mind.  It feels like something James Tiberius Kirk would think, with , that ,, slow,  deliberate speech , pausing on the non-importants, and, delivering the last line quickly..  Even in song, speechy song.  "Lucy" , "in the sky", "with", ,,,,, "diamonds".  What was all that stuff about LSD acid anyway?  Why were so many people experimenting?

Fade to gray.  Starting from backwards first, then to here, to right now.  What happened was this.  The world ended.  So, how am I here?  Did I get out just in time?  No.  I died with the rest of the world.  So, how am I here.  Great question.  Long answer, two words.  Just two simple words.  Words that make  all  this make sense.  So simple, you would have guessed, but didn't.  So simple you would say, of course.  And those two words are ...  Causal.  But that is only one word.  So, say it twice.  There, two words.  One word triggers the next word which is the first word.  

Here is how it works.  ..  

Street lamps are retracting down into the sidewalks as the sun comes up..  The sun, of course covered in energy absorbing panels that balance out and indeed nullify the crippling effects of solar flares and EMF spikes.  And, the earth, formerly powered by the geothermal heat taps, now powered by solar panels.  Literal solar panels, around the sun...

Okay, computer.  That was an album title in the 1990's.  Time, it seems, is not only cyclical, it is also circular, and, it is causal.  Three C's.  If a person A chooses to be kind to person B, then person B might choose to be kind to person C, then person C might choose to be kind to person A.  Circular.  A is kind then does not talk having to do with person B then B does those two with C, then C those two with A, Circular and Cyclical.  The first war between Europe and Asia and North America, then mostly peace, then countries carrying a grudge because of the first war have a second war, cyclical, circular, causal.  Memories are Deja-vu of things that have happened before, or before they have happened as the future, in a way, changing the past, and therefore the present.  cyclical, circular, causal.

Time gap, this time wake up in the trunk of a taxi however.  Travelling diagonally up the side of an obvious pyramid, billboards repeat a story of the ancient past, the passed past.  Not the story that is "beautifality" , no fallacy here, in fact only truth, no, beautiful to believe fake fallacy, "fakeacy".  This is the story of how Sol Planet 5 was destroyed by the missile moon sent like a tiny billiards cue ball ordinance, ping, straight through Planet 5.  Planet 5, Polikos, the only vestige of is the ring of asteroids.  A few of the bits wound up orbiting Jupiter, and other bit orbits Mars, and the moon ordinance orbits earth now, and to this day.  But, it didn't always used to be here.  Polikos, Planet 5 was tidally locked to Sol and one side, nothing but hot, the other nothing but cold.  And the ring, that's where they exported the Hawking Element Z, 145.

And then, something big happened.  I can't remember what.  Oh yea, the sidewalks retracted into the street.  And, of course, I died.

Shortly after , the grass receeded back down into the ground.  Just things for a while.  The distant landscape receeded back into the horizon, and the near landscape flattened out.  The clouds diminished and the temperature warmed.  The breeze crossed the landscape in a straight line at a steady speed.  Nothing much happened other than these.  The daylight faded slowly as the nightlight became brighter.  Each and every star became a bit brighter , in sequence from bottom to top in the sky.  Void in between stars became more pronounced dark and nightlight became more pronounced light.  Time stopped yet again.  A dog appeared, a talking dog, three legs, one tail, now no tail.  And a tale to tell.

"It was two years after the labs all closed.  It was one more until the air supply soon began being replaced with sense control.  All things were muted and slowly each stimuli was brought up from nothing.  This was when there was still air.  At least when it was still free.  People, homebodies, still ate, away team only breathed.  Both drank plenty of herbal tea, at least, plenty compared to before a difference in body.  Tea was the marker.  Like rings on a tree to tell the age, the oxidents from tea gave it away.  And then there were the genes.

||||||||||

Don't get on that long black train.

I know this guy, he is very familiar, but he seems glued to the past, even the way he talks.  

Friend, my yams were sore from hoofing it all the way to here.  I'm hoping you could spare that pair of tennis shoes on the dash free of cash?

Oh boy, this guy is out of a comic book or something.

Now the radio chimes in with Somebody's nockin', should I let him in?  Some say it's the devil, so full of sin.

  Tell you what, he says, tell you what, it wouldn't be right you just giving away a perfectly good pair of sneaks like that.  Besides, would you even want to keep them?  Seems like they are just holding you back from your future.  If you give them to me, you can finally start the path of being indestructible with the very shoes you have on.  They just don't want you to be free, fast, like them.  Here is what I will do for you, this is my offer, just for you...  

II. Genes

At first it was subtle, I would look for the clues myself.  I knew something was wrong in the future.  I knew my present, that would be "future" present, but most of my memories did not add up.  How would those memories, get me to there?  That precise spot, that precise occasion, in the future.  And, why was I white all of a sudden?  And why was I minutes away from being killed... again?  And why was I scared?

Because i could not say what I had to say.  I did not want what was too many leaders, heavy on my mind , riding words all the time makin rhyme not sublime appears meaningless-o-no-gotta-go no dash shoul be so slow okay go  .... no matter how pushy she gets . tryinna operate without a safety net . okay gotta go go go

||||||\\

You give me those shoes on the dash the shoes you were planning to wear during your future heist for one last gasp for cash, and I will wear your future but give you the cash.  How does that sound?

"Runnin', runnin' with the devil.  Yeah-ah, runnin' " 

||||||||||||

Light.

-->  -->  -->

"And so it goes, and so it goes, and you're the only one who knows, my downeaster Alexa."  -  William Martin Joel

Do not break character.  Did you hear that reader, or listener, or watcher?  Remember that, do NOT break character.

I feels like I am an actor in a play.  As I blink, I realise this is awake and before was something else.  Right now, I hear the whirr of electric lawn equipment.  Powerful, troubling.  Big stuff, stuff that is soothing, white noise for green goers.  It didn't always used to be that way.  

"Oh they paved paradise and put up a pa-arking lot.  Ya they paved paradise, and put up a pa-arking lot."  Joni Mitchell...  For a while you had to pay extra to see it, to breathe it.  Future Now, there is no more nature.  The machines are nature.  The machines will humm the white noise of the grass retracting back into the sidewalk for the morning canine cruisers and even the four-legged felines have free fido food, it falls from the sky, for them, it's not the air, its air-a-licious.  They just wait, and sure enough, it falls from the sky.  Why, I can't deny, so easy for a pie from the sky, or chicken that's fried, to fall to sigh of relief and a smile that is  chief on the street at a place fitting its pace again and again falling from the sky to a smile.

And then, they started charging for air.  Instead of charging our tanks with air, they gave away the tanks and charging for air.  It got bad, really, really, really bad.  But that was later, this is the now.  Let's see, where were we?  

Traded shoes, woke up.  And here we are.  Streetlamps retracting into the sidewalks, Balance.  Skyscrapers and stadiums hundread feet above, balance, things where they belong.  No pains, no problems.  Three Cory's statues, check.  Everything where it belongs.

Enter number two - the dog.  No, the dog days of Summer, The Imperial Czar Summer Summers, with his tele-comms reassures us it is all as belongs.  'Everything is in it's place.'  is the thought as the eyes around look in contentment at surround-and-abovings.  But wait, broken, broken is easy, so sorry, 'you, you there, break!'  And the one, just the one in front, breaks, breaks, and breaks.  Unraveling to ablankness, an empty stare, no shoes, and nothing around but empty - drained.    Next, 'person next', over the tele-comm thinking, person next look up look out, 'hear here', person next lifts ear and brow...  'shoes are glues and high-pitched-banjo-tinny loud louder loudest still louderest,' hearing the live broadcast of the thought at a high-pitched banjo shrill, person next closed eye , my my, bye-and-bye, broken and battered 'til i die to the sky, tries to walk but barefooted stuck falls face first and the boots fall from the hand.  All three shatter into a million pieces.