Q.: I am proud of you, leader of the solitary. Don’t be disappointed. Against your anxiety and disgust
the ritual was properly performed. Our brief march was uninterrupted, almost invisible. No reaction
whatsoever by the passers-by. The Flag ruled the dreamscape. It’s a historical may day on our blank
agenda. The Date of Unfurling.
A.: The more striking you look, the less they’ll see you. It is the core of fashion’s eternal warfare. Nothing
to be proud of. Challenges will always protect you, it’s just that I’m too tired to collect evidences.
Q.: Ain’t it ginormous you could overcome for a moment? Yet you’re more lowered than your great grand
uncle after Waterloo. You’d like to spit in the face of the mirror. You don’t wanna be true to your self
at least. That’s what makes you fake, not your incoherent lies.
A.: Don’t take it at face value, I am overjoyed we did it. I hope Osh will be pleased with such a sweet offering.
For a cellular phone it was a magnificent photo-op. A rally of multitudes couldn’t be more heartbreaking.
Q.: Because I pushed you in the park. You were so afraid of the deed! We’ll be arrested for trespassing, you
said. Parks are common property, darling. You can fuck the trees if you want to. Is there a law that
forbids private demonstration in a democracy? You are such a sissy. The unbravest heart.
A.: Thanks for pushing me. It wouldn’t have been documented otherwise. I don’t even know how to take
a selfie. I can’t bear to see myself. There’s nothing of my aura left. I took this zombie walk as an
unconscious subrobot. It was a nightmare. Acting in somebody’s terrifying play.
Q.: That’s because you are a paranoid schizophrenic lost between his artificial avatars. Victimized by the
quirks of an uncanny comedy. A first class passenger of the electric Juggernaut.
A.: I am trying to stay as decent as possible. It is not my choice but a protective requirement. All I could take
were risks. Is it strange I prefer the conditional tense?
Q.: It must be a terrible ordeal to do what you have to without any faith in it. To live down a life of misery
without a reasonable plan. As a complete misfit on every walk of life. The self-conscious fiasco-king
in the arms of a holy madness. Holding the world record of failures.
A.: I’m convinced of the senselessness of things. Pair it with the lack of desire and you’ll get your manic
depressant off the wall. I am nothing but a revolting hermit. A one-man army of the UR.
Q.: You are the pretender of a throne of iron. Favorite toy of the Prince of Gravity. All you can imagine
is obviously impossible. So you refuse to do a step to materialize your phantom. Even the Flag is
my donation to you. Your Nemesis invented and I produced it as a relic on the Internet. I created,
ordered and paid for it. You only had to wave it because you are stronger. Our procession was an
infantine parable. Like spazieren den Hund.
A.: I thank you very much for the Flag. And the Armband too. You’re bringing the Bardo alive. Dressing
me up like a reluctant mannequin. Ignoring my deplorable status quo. It’s a hard life for a spy who
cannot lie. I don’t know what fun he was talking about on the Timeship.
Q.: We must do what we can, I guess. Reward we don’t get but the signs are abundant. My designing
your Colors burned down the Notre Dame. For you it’s an awful coincidence, for me it’s confirmation.
I only believe in fairies any more.
A.: Me neither. Just simulating in a simulation. Fully self-conscious but profoundly flummoxed. I don’t
want to do the Mussolini for ever and ever. Something should really come after all these beauties.
Q.: First you should get rid of the chaos in your rattlebrain. Your personality disorder is way over the
borderline. One cannot serve three emblems at one time. Two thirds of the spectators will always
be against you anytime anywhere. You cannot break the triangular equilibrio. The wild synthesis will
bitterly backfire. Your ideology would dissatisfy everyone and his foe from democrats to republicans.
The overnationalist ideal of an elitarian supremacy is more divisive than any socialism beforehand.
Your call for civil war would only antagonize the liberal plurality. Capitalism will never overcome the
tribal divide. Economy is the bitch of Mercury. Imperialist corporations are the arch enemy of
superhumanism.
A.: The Oshist Trinity of the Three Emblems is a superimposition of the three contemporary political
systems at mutual odds. The best of each side in a nuclearist fusion. One family, one race, one world.
Old notions die hard. This is our last chance.
Q.: It’s always been like that, wasn’t it? Every generation thought itself to be the last. It’s imprinted in the
genes of the mortal. Our only weapon against ennui. One needs more to his life than the endless
vegetation. Peace makes us soulless. We live in a warzone, not on a holiday. We want to be important and
dangerous. Part of history. Myth has nothing in common with the social order.
A.: The choices are between black truth and white lie. You cannot tell light from darkness in Lucifer’s
dominium. It’s all grey like the London fog. But we don’t care, shall we? We’ll never surrender.
Q.: Your positivist nihilism is exasperating, Spiel! More insipid than the occult rationale.
A.: Our rebellion is the final consolidation. Mediating between the bargaining parties with the smart ethos
of nonaligned espionage. The UR only mind their own business. A lot like secret societies but largely
unconcealed. Adaptation is their greatest virtue. With The Building of Departure always on their mind.
Q.: That’s strange to hear from someone who’s incapacitated for the slightest compromise. You may be a
master of dialectic but no better than any sly hypocrite. Theory is futile if can’t cash in on it. Nobody
will convert to Antichristianity for free. You must make them pay to seem worthwhile. Redemption is
a financial transaction by definition. Money rules the divine.
A.: I am not against that at all. I’m more objective than Saint Vincent. It’s the greatest pity I can’t make
profit from it. Osh has proven to be an unsellable merchandize. New Style but no deal.
Q.: Don’t get so anthropomorphic about it. Osh surely is as good as anything. That you can’t market it is
your incompetence solely. And that’s because you don’t have the greed. Need is not enough.
A.: Man is not judged by his wealth at the gates. Success in no credential in the City of Eden. It is built for
beautiful losers like us.
Q.: Don’t try to appease me, I know you don’t mean it. Just looking for some solace to the torment. One
shouldn’t raise a Church in the air any Atheistic. You must find a rock.
A.: I am not an Atheist, Gina. I am Atheism. I trust in None. Challenging the Adversary’s slavedom in
Nomine Homini. We want divine terror and moral dictatorship. We’ll change the gruesome facts.
Q.: All you ever wanted was to preside over the realm of the living dead. Atavistically inclined towards the
negative. Frightened to develop the picture. Hiding in the shadow for fear of the light.
A.: I am not hiding. Just have no power to run. I’m subsisting in the perennial trauma of a discarded
machine. I can observe my host from above but everything suggests he is illegally blind. All of my uploads
are suspiria de profundis. Practicing the terminal exhale.
Q.: To waste your little time left on Masochistic self-pity is the last thing you should do. Isn’t it enticing to
have accomplished something? We should do it again. Maybe on a regular basis. Same route and time
on every holiday. Could become our public celebration. Even attract followers later. Still better than
rotting away on the matted floor.
A.: You sure are very lovely but out of your little mind. I cannot do anything twice. I’m hysterical about
repetitions. I’m advancing by milestones and never look back. Art is my main enemy.
Q.: How could I make you understand that anything is more than nothing at all? You don’t need the ultima
ratio to move your torpid ass. I really liked the way we paraded. It was so exiting to belong for a day.
A.: How I wish I could give you more than the fake replica of a somber illusion. But I got nothing real.
Today I could wear a uniform and it relaxed my skin. ‘Twas an unforgettable sensation. But cannot be
iterated. I’m glad we could get through it unharmed. People will think we are Neo-Nazis. There’ll be no
time to explain what “over” means. The Word needs a context to exist. It cannot establish its own
meaning. Cannot create its own situation without some help from Osh, fuck him.
Q.: Stop swearing at the Nonexistent. Are you mad? Osh has given you free hand. That’s all she could.
Leaving it idle is a galactic felony. The main impeder of your progress is that you are Not. Orphaned
son of a detrimental logistics. Grammatically trapped by a false affinity. You must learn to ignore your
subreality or we’ll never introduce the phonetic writing system.
A.: An intelligent agent must be extremely cautious. Take no responsibility for what’s happening to him. My
instincts may be wrong but my senses are spot-on. I never apologize. I put all the blame on the operator.
Q.: Since when is pathologic stubbornness a supreme virtue? Even if you dismiss your superiors, to me you
certainly owe a lot of apologies. For giving my life force to a project without the ghost of a chance.
A.: I’m truly very sorry for everything you’ve gone through. But it’s not my fault.
Q.: That’s not an excuse. Why have I to support a mental midget reluctant to surmise. You wouldn’t dare to
challenge any system from within. Would never participate in a real demonstration for no cause at all.
You are an asocial germophobe. Don’t even know what socialism means.
A.: Socialism means three things to me. Basic income, martial law and happy dispatch. Those are my
signature electoral promises. The Party is not a centrist enterprise. We want the last judgement right
away. In my secret life I’m a heathen combatant fighting neopagans.
Q.: You don’t say. Just talking your egghead off. What’s the use of slogans that can’t be implemented? You
couldn’t debate your doctrines with the stupidest reporter. You’re trying hard not to show it but you’re
transparently unhinged. Only the devil could give you a forum just to watch your demise. Your
meritocratist genealogy would freak out the multimedia. You leave no room for misinterpretation.
A.: New Style is inconsonant with substitute diplomacy. We need a sudden impact and we need it now.
Forward to the Socialist Kingdom. Down with Heaven.
Q.: Thanks for reminding me what we have lost. You’ve got nothing new to say to me since 1984. I truly
regret but cannot accept your apology. You gave me nothing what a woman wants. You have seduced me
into a transcendent bondage with no hope of liberation. It’s been all work – no love with you ever since we
wed. I cannot imagine a more boring couple.
A.: It was you who seduced me, to put that record straight. I was looking for Josephine Baker, not a fellow
expatriate. But then I understood your potential of a traitress. It was the hate of our birthplace that
kept us together. Something I couldn’t share with another tongue. Our marriage was a pact. The
golden seed of the counterrevolution.
Q.: You had lied to me unscrupulously. It took a while to realize that The Party is a fable. Not an existing
institute but you yourself alone. The lunacy of a failed outsider. But by then it was too late. I was fallen
in love with idealism. I swore on Osh to realize the fiction or die trying. And that’s about where we’re at.
At the end of the line. Under the gun of catabiosis. What you wanna do about it?
A.: Organic life is a ludicrous catastrophe we have refused to propagate. We might never rise but our
conscience is untarnished. We have lived a life without crime. Our free visa to eternity is thoroughly
secured. Lose no sleep about it.
Q.: Leave me alone with your morbid symbolism, won’t you! I don’t give a shit about afterlife. I want my
2 dollars right here and now. I understand you cannot hatch a Putsch. But still could get a spot at a fringe
festival. Or put up something vendible on the Net. In place of lamenting the scourge of destiny all day
and all of the night.
A.: Today we have torn down the invisible wall. A watershed of our occasional dream. The image of 888 is
caught on camera in vivo. Me and The Flag are conjoined from now on. I’ll always be carrying it
wherever I may go. The Logo of Infinity is unconquerable. In Hoc Signo Vinces.
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