Cafe At The End Of Time (9.0)

Yes,,,. “AAAAAAA ect.”  is the National  Anthem….and it

goes something like this:

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAA(merica)”

And while vocalizing, instead of purple mountains or

patriots with gleaming eyes, visualize getting a blow job,

because that’s what America is…a big blow job. As

Richard Dreyfuss put it in the sixties: “The reason why

there are no revolutionaries in America, is because it

would be like being a spoil sport at an orgy.”

The way it works is simple: you play the game right

and you get the best blow job…its as mindless as a

slaughterhouse…..

Why did it have to be “the pursuit of happiness”?

Why couldn’t it have been “the pursuit of enlightenment”…

(they at least had the concept back then),,.,or “the pursuit

of wisdom”? “Get on the wrong bus and every stop is the

wrong stop.”

                                               ****

The notion of “epic”, in the positive sense, is over…

we started loosing our taste for “epic” during the

twentieth century…but it took two “epic” wars 

for that to begin to happen.  Space exploration could

have been “epic”, but it feels now more like

desperation….the quest for truth has become a sitcom about

nothing that takes place in a diner. I think mankind is

embarrassed about what it has done and is now trying

to remain anonymous but is afraid someone is going to

come up to it and tap it on the shoulder and say: “You

fucked up, George.”                

                                              ****

Lunch with Joel at “The Last Dagwood”….a diner right

as you enter Brooklyn from Manhattan.  I love American

diners…you can still drive across America and run into

them wherever you go. The cooler they look on the

outside, the better the food on the inside,  generally …

diners and family run restaurants in small communities

across America….true American treasure.

This one had a juke box and stations at each table

where you could put in your quarters and listen to

the music from the next Tarantino  movie…you know…

it’s going to be from the fifties and sixties rock genre,

so, they had groups like  “The Chiffons”,  “The Four

Tops” and “The Marvelettes” , “Randy And The

Rainbows”,  “Tommy James And The Shondells”

“Just A Mirage” was playing as they dug into their

buffalo burgers and curly fries.

Joel took a pause between bites: “ So, do you want

me to ask?”

“Isn’t that what you just did?”

“Well, it was a question, but it was more like a pre-

question…and since we know what that answer really

is, you are right.”

“Kansas City” by Wilbert Harrison was playing now.

I was getting in a groove…we didn’t talk  for a while…

just ate and listened to the music. ...clack of pool balls

from a farther room…waitresses slinging the hips and

the hash…dirty deals going down in this or that booth…

lives were changing all around me, and everyone dug

the food….it was a good place to die.

“Sometimes I obsess about a particular piece of music…

I’ll listen to one song over and over to the nth degree,

like I’m trying to absorb the music into my being. I’ve

listened to one version of “Cream Puff War’ by the

Dead 630 times….I can dance to each note.”

“Yeah,”  Joel was just finishing his sandwich.  “I like

making models of WWII airplanes. I put bullet holes

in them with a red hot needle.”

“Media is like a giant eye look for and picking out the

latest extreme tendencies to feed to the people…anybody

who is extreme about almost anything that isn’t violent

(although that has its own niche) or disgusting gets

airtime!”

“Of course….who wants to know about their own lives?”