the meeting noted that pauls posting had grown infrequent to the extent of
awolity. paul explained that so as to recharge his batteries he had left posting
duties with his young nephew – carmine. carmine had assured him that he was posting
twice a day. really funny shit about vegetables. like food, not cripples. and that he
was getting plenty of comments. it was only when paul checked in last week that he
seen that the whole blog had turned to shit in his abcense. that that fucker carmine
hadnt posted a goddam thing except some weak shit about a hooded bubble baby?
paul questioned how none of the other capos had noticed that the blog.- the very
figurehead of the company of navarone had turned to shit??? he was shocked. nay
appalled that all the capos said they never read it. they always thought the
internet- it was kind of shit, but that they liked that guy eric who is on myspace
and takes pictures of his cat dressed as pancho villa. all the capos assured paul
they would read it from now on. especially if we could get a cat and dress it up like
pancho villa. everybody also agreed that thaT LITTLE SHIT CARMINE SHOULD GET HIS ARSE
BOOTEDD for fucking us about, and that infant death should even be considered. brian
said he didnt think infant death was out of the question but that we probably
shouldnt write about it because people found that kind of thing unsavoury. and also
the fbi had computers checking for terms like infant death and that when you typed
something like thsat a little red flag came on and somebody ended up looking through
your rubbish bins for bank statements and such.
carmine then spoke up and said he would really rather that everybody didnt talk about
killing him in front of him. that it was unproffesional and if they didnnt like him
they could get someone else to take minutes of the fucking meetings. everybody
apologised to carmine. carmine went on to say that if anyone made a move to snub him
out he would get his pals to egg their houses. everyone got unnerved by this. after a
long awkward silence frank said that he had become more and more stressed about work
on a monday and that it was reaching the stage where the dam was going to burst. paul
said he thought it was funny how he was dafter now than he had been when he was 18.
that he just assumed he would keep getting smarter and smarter but in fact he had
peaked then and now it was just a generall freewheeling preamble downhill toward
elderly idiocy. sure he had more experience but not so much of anything worthwhile.
just more time spent on the bus. paul thoughr some graphs showing knowledge axis and
stupidity axis and others should be drawn up. as the graphic department were spending
a lot of time doing pretty much nothing but looking at cheap porn online. anyway.
paul went o to say he felt it might have been better just to end it all at around 24.
then his life would have been chock full and glossy instead of the watered down tripe
it was quickly descending into.
talk wandered round to thinking why they were writing, and carmine said its obviously
for the attention. but what bothered everyone more and more is that they knew the
readership more and more. jacob agreed and said he now knew things which people would
write and probably forget but which he remembered. that he had a picture of them all
built up from everything they had ever written. a dna of feelings theyd had that had
affected them enough to want to write it down. paul said likewise – that they had a
dna of him. and as he got to know them all and like them more he less wanted to
offend them or vent anything dangerous (because thats what he really wanted to do).
before he could just do it because wtf. who gives a shit he said , they dont know me
from adam so what the fuk do i care? he could vent what he wanted and just see what
happened. he could talk about all series of horrific things. now he said he had to
talk like he was at his aunties.
franklin, who had been worryingly depressed recently and slightly teary, wnandered
into a speech about his mother. how his mother would tuck him in at night. goodnight
sweet prince she would say. and place a small handgun under his pillow. how she had
won the handgun in an amusement arcade. the penny waterfalls, where amongst the cheap
watches and mugs was the little silver handgun. he was deafenned in one ear because
when he was 12 the handgun went off. why would a mother place a handgun under the
pillow of a twelve year old?. what kind of mother would do that? nobody had an answer
for franklin but louis slapped him on the back and gave him a hug. we all vowed to
ponder this subject and return to it.
alfred said he had become concerned at strolling home late and intoxicated because
flannelfoot (a ghost who ties dishcloths round his shoes so as to creep up on people
unnoticed) was back on the prowl again and had murdered a family just a street away
from his house while they watched tv. louis said flannelfoot was a pussy compared to
the ghost freak who had been terrorising his street – a one handed monkey who lost
his paw and would come creeping about in the dead of night whispering "Where's ma
Paw….Ahm gonny get ye". karl piffpoffed this, saying his street was stalked by the
infamous 'sanshoe sanny' who was reputed to have springs on his sandshoes so that he
could quickly spring upon his unsuspecting victim. everyone concurred and shuddered
at the thought of this freak bouncing along.
arnold asked what had happened to the cardboard tray that used to sit under the
chocolate in a bounty bar. jeff said that hersheys had bought all the cardboard trays
and were using them exclusively for their peanut butter cups. bob said that he didnt
realise that it was cardboard and had always eaten it along with the chocolate. paul
said he thought it would be a good idea if chocolate bars came wrapped in edible
wrappers then you could eat everything. jack said he had taught his cat how to smoke
for a laugh, and that now he was on 40 a day and it was costing him a fucking
fortune. albert said he had done a similar thing with his canary, and the bottom of
the cage was full of fag douts and the little bastard was getting really cranky. he
had gone from being a yellow colour to a dirty brown.
albert went on to say that he realised now that adults were really the same children
they had always been but just with more fear now and unending responsibility and that
in an effort to not undermine themselves as people, that they generally swept this
fact under the carpet because to admit otherwise would admit that they really hadnt
achieved much in terms of what they had perceived at youth and to do so would be
confidence suicide. a step which was usually inevitable with the descent into old age
but that albert had also somehow managed to achieve around 25 due to his personal
internal honesty about who he was as a person and what he wasnt. george found it
ironic that the very thing which could be perceived as characte building- a honesty
about personal weakness and limitations was – once admitted- in fact character
unbiuilding and dis confidicing. it was cruel that in order to proceed mentally as a
person it was neccesary to lie to yourself about limitations and probable unfulfilled
future plans so as to not fragment. it was cruel that to inwardly question who you
were in order to try and proceed as a human. as a man. would result in self doubt and
cruel that those who were thicker, more self obsessed but less morally bothered would
probably proceed better. it became clear that this was obvious of course and hardly
worth stating. but francis questioned whether there was a way round it? was it
possible to see fate and sidestep it. paul then came up with a plan.<plan stricken> a
plan to sidestep fate. if it worked it would surely mean confidence and unconfidence
would no longer matter. there would be no more weighing scales of fear or bravery for
him and the capos. no more chits on one side or the other as plusses or minuses..
this would be a mental heist to end all chit debate. a thing to end any further
questioning of being questioned. if asked. we would all point to the acheived plan
and say nothing. the very act would speak for itself. there. never questoion me again.we
have achieved. it was time for all the bow strings to be combined and pulled.
to fire the silencing blowdart.