s:x:tis text.
There’s no meeting in the text, which is a puzzle with a piece missing. I mean, the desire to read and the desire to write are like two arrows shot at the same moment at two birds that are mistaken for each other both of which turn out to be not birds but a trick of the light. What kind of text would you write in these circumstances?
No AI was used in writing this story.
The cover image of the post is AI-generated, from https://bookcoverlite.com/cheeseburger-recipe-book-mockup/, a real cabinet of curiosities …
If you want to know more about the “satis text” idea, see my essay “New China” part 1.
Movie Groceries Death
Howard Press approached – with the concept.
“Picture the scene: street corner, night, a fine MIST IS FALLING as we see the world which has lost its innocence and is restlessly dreaming as CAMERA PANS LEFT we see apartment windows where LIGHT AND SOUNDS OF LIFE CLATTERING as we see close-up of people, we see men, women, children laughing as people privately enjoying as COMPANY OF FRIENDS we see . . .”
“Stop right there,” Manny said thoughtfully. “I’ve seen this before. What is it, a foreign flick? No, that grad student from NYU, what’s his name . . .” he snapped his fingers thoughtfully.
Interest was generated. “You’ve got three days.” Three days. “Make me a story.” A story . . .
“We’re on deadline. Will you do it?”
“Do what? Play a caricature of myself in your stupid movie? No.”
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’ll give you a different name.”
“Howie.”
“Don’t call me Howie.”
“Howie, you’re old news.”
With that odd presage I was shown out of her apartment.
In the meantime, however, my recorder picked up this conversation from somewhere, possibly a neighboring apartment:
“I love you baby. Come live with me. Don’t do that junk no more. Come live with me as long as you want. We’ll garden. We’ll raise flowers and we could get a cat and I don’t know, whatever helps. Don’t do that junk no more baby. Come stay with me.” Sleep, dream, get up, get hungry and the howling begins, you get your stomach kicked until you give it, give the thing a little. “I love you darling. Come live with me. Don’t. Come with me. As long as you want we’ll garden, flowers, a cat and everything just” sleep, dream, get up, get hungry and the howling begins you get “love you darling and don’t we cat and” sleep, dream, get up
That night the stairwell to my apartment was dark and shook with blood. I felt my way up.
“I think someone may be hurt.”
“One question,” Manny said thoughtfully. “Where do the magazines fit in?”
“What?”
“I can’t ask again.”
“I don’t know. What magazines?”
“Exactly.” Manny raised his eyebrow thoughtfully.
At the grocery store check-out last night magazines monkeyed around amiably, just like always.
“Startling Secrets Dazzling Your Best Ever Love Moves. What He Really Wants. What He Really Wants Fascinating Your 5 Worst Cancer Nightmares. Scintillating Fascinating Thighs (Catch Your Dream Man) Self Diagnosis? 7 Proven Methods. Diet Secrets Reveal His Secret Love Spots Tragedy At Home Sex Strategies Repair Your Career!”
“You’re not thinking conceptually,” Manny said and pointed at me. “Think conceptually.”
“I just see what’s in my face.”
“What,” Manny said pointedly, “am I supposed to do with that.” And there our relationship ended.
The day turned to night and I felt the blood pushing up underneath my apartment like I was in some Apollo rocket lunar capsule ejecting slowly out to space. On television they were showing reruns of the cereal aisle:
“Rice Crispies Trix — Banana Nut Crunch Wheaties;
Variety Pak Golden Grahams, Kix French Toast Crunch.
Chex Honey Nut Crunch Froot Loops Total Raisin Bran;
Trix Wheaties Alpha Bits Complete, Kix Lucky Charms, Puffed Rice Puffed Wheat Puffed Corn
—Corn Chex Complete Complete Variety Pak
Kix Crispix Cinnamon Toast Crunch Raisin Bran”
“’Of Life immense in passion, pulse, and power,’” I mumbled. “’Cheerful — for freest action formed.’”
My girlfriend was waiting on the corner, everything in the street all pointing in different directions.
“Do you want coffee?”
“What’s that in there?”
“How about here? This looks like a good place.”
“What’s that in that window?” We went inside and got coffee.
“I don’t know,” I told her. We drank coffee. “But I think someone may be dying.”
“What’s that in your head?” We drank our coffee then walked down the sidewalk.
“Its more serious than that.”
“What’s that?”
“What?”
“That thing in there. What’s that thing in there?”
My apartment was seeping blood. It pressed through the walls like being pushed out of something, a river of blood being pushed, pushed into something, a river of blood through something, river of blood pushed hard out of one thing pushed hard another river of blood pushing river of river through life into life another life life life
The day turned to night again. The stairs were dark, slippery mountains to my apartment. I went back to her apartment. In her apartment she wore a red, a blue bathrobe. Her hair was wet.
“Somebody died.”
“I’m sorry to hear.”
“I know. Me too.”
“What’s up?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m bored.”
“That’s what television is for.”
“I don’t have television. I got rid of television.”
“Coffee’s good when you’re bored.”
“I get acid.”
“Or a movie.”
“You want to see a movie?”
“Sure. What the hell. Let’s see a movie.” It was a black and white movie and we watched gray shapes sharing in some mazy and misfitting endless initiation.