of 8
8/6/2019 Weep for the Future
1/8
weep(FOR THE FUTURE!)
lives in a decommisioned missile silo
commmunication software engineer
retired re-education terrorist
curator of cold war museum
avid model hobbyist
militant gun owner
phD in History
issue sixdistribute
atyour
ownperil
sevenfactsaboutoursubject
hasslein
Q: Not so much a question, tell us a bit about your-
self.
A: Ill just begin by saying, this country sucks, and
the whole world by extension of our intellectual enter-
tainment umbrella imperial domain, sucks. Ive spent
my whole life trying to do something to make it bet-
ter, and Im tired of people telling me I dont have the
right to say, this country sucks. Im an activist, its
in my blood to desire change, to live my life accord-
ing to principle. I hurt people that tell me to shut up,
so remember that. But I wont hurt people who have
a difference of opinion. I welcome discourse and dis-
cussion. As long as youre not repeating the corporate
line, the company motto, the religious credo, youre
okay in my book. And Ill even forgive the company
motto, because I realize some of you
work hard and hard work is beautiful,
even when it is for the sole benet of a
faceless demon that devours all that is
good and right.
Q: Were in an underground missile silo,right?
A: Yes we are. I call it home. 40,000
square feet of home. The government
was selling a bunch of these off for a
steal twenty or so years ago. I put a down
payment on one and didnt look back.
Took a lot of work to get it habitable.
People had to come in and clean out the
asbestos, and there was ooding, rusting
metal. And the concrete walls are a bitch
to work with. But I have my own theater
in here. And music studio. I collect cold
war relics, got hundreds of museumquality pieces, spy stuff, historical docu-
ments, and I have a Dr. Strangelove Nuke
Ride. You can program in whatever city
you want to bomb and Yeehaw on down
the bomb bay doors. Its great. You can
be Slim Pickens.
Q: Can you tell us how you subverted
E/D back in the early days?
A: Right, youth. I worked for one of
the big companies that was developing
security software for it. Wed started
in email encryption and the like, and
naturally moved to E/D. I was in a unique posi-
tion and made all sorts of vague ethical decisions
early on. I and a bunch of others programmed in
major loopholes and backdoors which eventually
got leaked to hacker types a few years later. I was
naturally educated, obviously. Id worked my butt
off. Side note, programming is still one of thoseskills that naturally educated people are still the
best for. But anyways, what I did was career sui-
cide and I served six months for related offenses.
A bunch of underground organizations funded
my defense, helped me out in every way possible,
and I sort of took up a leadership role upon my
release. I never advocated any grievous bodily
harm, I was more into fucking with the system,
throwing wrenches in the cogs of the machinery.
We had a lot of success, but the world is evolu-
tionary. Perhaps de-evolutionary at this point. We
can ght all we want, I just dont see where this is
going any more.
Q: Thats a pretty bold statement from a folk hero
of sorts. What do you advocate now?
A: Live your life how you want to live it. If any-
one fucks with you, fuck with them back. Show
them you still matter, you still stand for some-
thing. Dont give in, resist that impulse with all
your might, giving in is for chumps. Us naturals
have become something of a curious relic. So be
it. When whatever plague must eventually rise
up to infect E/D, at least well still be here, and
wholl be so goddamn smart then.
Q: Thanks for your time.
interview with
8/6/2019 Weep for the Future
2/8
Thereisafundamentalprob-
lemwithtrepanation.Peopledie.You
havetobewillingtoacceptthis
facteverytimeyouputanelectric
drilltotheirskullandpullthe
trigger.Peopledie.
IvekilledfourpeoplethatI
knowof.Itismessynomatterhowit
goesdown.Youwillsmellaeraeted
eshandboneandgreaseandsweat.
Youpushtoohard,dontpushhard
enough.Diggingtoodeepisalwaysa
problem.Itsariskyscenario,play-
ingwithjuiceandmeatandelec-
tricty.Theelectricdrillneedsthat
necessaryweight,heft.Youneedto
useyourshoulder,yourwholebodyto
controlpenetration.Makesureyo
u
arefullycharged,dontwantitto
dieonyou,getstuckinthere.Dont
rushit.Workinteamsoftwoifyou
haveto.Ithelpstohaveapartner
tokeepthemdown,holdthemstill.
Becausetheywillghtandwriggle
andscream.Ioncehadadrillbit
glanceoffagirlsskull,therewas
anewmetalboxinside.Itoreopen
herscalp.Shewasscreaming,try-
ingtoholdherapofeshon.Blood
fromtheheadpoursfastestofall,a
showerfromtheinsidedrenchingus
both.
Yesweareterrorists.Weat-
tackthemintheopen.Assault
theirpreciousheads.Becausein-
sidelivesourenemy.Ourpur-
poseistostopthedeathofedu-
cation.Todothatwemustdestroy
E/D.Wemustbringbackthepurity
ofthoughtandlearnedintellect.We
mustnotloseouressentialhumanity.
letter from the editor
Stdr
plannED commUNITY
(from a newsfeed post)
Forgive this angry missive, but
you people must stop. Not only
will you be found out, you will bepunished by god and government. I
appeal to your essential humanity,
put down your tools of hate and live
peacefully. Make great works be-
cause of your denied potential, not
in spite of. This world is big enough
for everyone. Let us live and learn
how we will, open yourself up to
the full potential of thought.
(protest announcement)West Coast. State Capitols. Be
strong and represent. Vote NO in
Government Loans and Grants
for E/D Students, raise awareness
about Accredited Learning Dis-
crimination, organize demonstra-
tions and trepanation efgies. Be a
body, be a mind.
8/6/2019 Weep for the Future
3/8
(capsule book review)
Treyarch Adrift is a near-mas-
terpiece of grunge squalor living,
dealing with important resistance
themes and iconography. The his-
tory of the old student movement is
captured in vivid detail, capturingmoments of heart-rending depth
and beauty. Perhaps the rst roman-
sbildung of the anti-E/D generation,
the artist as ever more an outsider
having to make her own connec-
tion to great traditions.
Recommended and
worthy of merit and
discussion.
(on religion)I have been working
in a orphanage in an
economically recessed
part of Florida. The
children here all speak
very little English and
will probably never
have the opportunity
to get an education,
E/D or otherwise. Butthe curious thing Ive
noticed is they have a
secret form of commu-
nity, religion, all based
around The Blue Lady
(Virgin Mary?) and La
Llarona. They talk about a war go-
ing on between angels and demons
in the slums, the ghosts of their
family members ghting for one
side or the other. They see our graf-ti and interpret it as miraculous
text. They add to it with their own
burners, and discover our move-
ment, because they want to read
and decipher the hidden meaning.
Perhaps there is something here I
am missing. Just thought Id pass
this along.
(on corporations)
Every month I get a job at a new
corporate empire. This months is,
heres a hint, named after a Her-
man Melville character from Moby
Dick. I am underpaid, but I get
great benets. They are also keento give us lots of corporate schwag.
Free music, movies, and of course,
coffee. This month, theyre push-
ing a new E/D program, which I
have great reservations about. Im
still natural, but I really
only just turned twenty,
and I really dont want to
think about committing
to making the transition.
Their new program is
this, an exclusive series
of on-going artistic,
educational, intellectu-
ally stimulating E/D
programs you can enjoy
while sitting around
drinking your latte. The
longer you spend drink-
ing there, the more youll
be able to appreciate andlearn. I guess thats just
another hook into the
pocket of the consumer,
but whatever. Im really
getting fed up with this.
You cant go anywhere
now without it being shoved down
your throat. The irony is that the
company really cant afford to hire
anyone with E/D, so theyre recruit-
ing people right around that adop-tion period in hopes theyll stay
on-board. Get them while theyre
young, poor and impressionable.
The few kids who have E/D are to-
tal snobs and are already managers.
Good thing, because they sucked at
making coffee.
8/6/2019 Weep for the Future
4/8
Jesus, he doesnt know what to tell her.
Hedrinksaloneinhisroom,thinking
abouttheirbodies,howtheydnotreallyar-
rangedthemselves,justtogetthekillingdone
quick,becausetheywerescaredandunsympa-
thetic,ruthlesswiththemselves,eagertobe
doneandgonefromitall.Theydplannedit
outlikeitwasthisterriblyimportantarcaneritual,whichitmayhapbecamebecauseoftheir
fastidiousness,everystepexcruciating,car-
riedthroughtoquestionablefruitionbecause
theydbackedthemselvesintothatcorner,and
therewasonlyonepossiblewaytothatvery
outcome.Realizetheydbeenignored,unforgiv-
able,becausetheywerebrilliantandsoin-
crediblylearned,andtogethertheyhadcometo
theawful,pitifulconclusion-changewascom-
ingandtherewasnothingtheycoulddotostop
it.
Hehadheardtheshots,hehadgoneup
running.Thelongspiralstaircase,echoing
withgunshotaftergunshot.Whyherantotheshotsinsteadofawayfrom?Deepdownheknew
whatwashappening.Hedtriedtoignoretheir
wordsandcasualthreats.Healmostthought
himselfapartoftheirinnercircle.Whenhe
gottothedooranditwaslocked,hecalled
outtowhoeverwasinside.Alonevoicesaidgo
away.Notacommand,itwastoodefeatedfor
that,toobrokentomeananything.Itwassoak-
ing in murder/suicide, expectant of nality.
Whentheybrokedownthedoorafterthat
lastlonesomeshot-onewasslumpedinthe
cornerofthetower,holdingabookinfront
ofhisface.Thebulletgonerightthroughthe
both,theslantofthedeathslumpoffsetting
everything.ThebookUlysses,thefacebelonged
toProf.RichardDawes.
Thatwashowtheydidit.RussianRou-
lette. Each of them got a bullet to re into
theirbestfriendandcolleague.Thelasthad
todohimself.HisnamewasIdaStern,adoc-
toroflinguistics.Heputtherevolverin-
sidehismouthandblewatinywhistlinghole
throughhispalate.Thewindowswereopen,it
wasabeautifuldayoutside.Thestudentsnever
gotupfromtheirpicnicblanketsuntilsirens
usheredthemoffthelawns.
He looks at these words and reminds himself
to clarify some details later. These are just
notes, he writes.
Shewasalover,alargeandbeautiful
presencehehadcometoknowandforgetlike
earlychildhood.Somuchofherwastobefor-
gotten,thisheacceptedandcherished.They
bothworkedforamannamedDonWallerwhowas
oneofthosethatdied,thethirdwhokilled
thesecond,AliceEwing,whotheylaternamed
awingafter,whowouldhavehatedthisactof
charity.Shewantednothingmoretodowithed-
ucation. Funny that she was rst when they had
drawnstraws.RosaGutierrez,braverthanmost,
despite knowing shed be the rst, proud of her
lot.
Thattheywerescrewing,allthreeof
theminsomecasualintermittentfashion,
shouldcomeasnosurprise.HimandHerand
ProfessorWaller.Theywereallatthatage,
notphysicallybutmentally,whenbodyandpol-
iticwasaneducationinandofitself.Theydsipwineanddineoutandspendeveningsin,
shiftingaroundeachotherlikesomuchtradi-
tion.Therewasprecedencetothis.Theylived
inahouseeightblocksfromcampusthathada
historysickwithbroken-down-made-newexcess.
Hetracedalinebackthroughpasttenants,
pasttense.Hewaspainfullypartofthehazy
traditionofsmokingoutontheporch,mak-
ingoutinthecentraldownstairsbathroomthat
neverstoppedsmellingofopium,re-arrang-
ingtimelessstudentartworknot-masterpieces
thatlivedinthathomelongerthananyofthem
addeduptogether.
Heremembersatimewhentheyhada
smallparty.Abunchofpeopleweretry-
ing mushrooms for the rst time. Things got a
littlecrazyaroundoneinthemorning.Some
jackasswasupstairsyellingoutthewindow,
Knowledge for All!Andtheywereallafraid
thecopswouldbustthingsup,sotheywere
hushedtogetherconspiratoriallywiththat
sillyscaryparanoia.Shewasthestrongone,
soshebecametheadultforamoment,thede
facto authority gure. So she was the one who
dealt with the jackass, soothed his misr-
ingmind.Theydgroupedtogetherdownstairs,
becomehive-like,cliquishintheirdealings
ofthejackass.Shewasthetranscendentone,
thesoothsayer.Shegothimoutofthatup-
stairsbedroom,laidhimoutonthecouchand
talkedtohim,pettedhiminawayhewasnot
tooconsciouslyweirdwith.Theyallsataround
listeningtomusic,wishingshewoulddealwith
theminsuchaway,jealousofhisoutrageous-
ness.
Hewastripping,imaginedthepaintings
shiftingbackwardsthroughtheyears.Thewalls
atimelapsephotographofallthathadcome
before.Heremembersthesmallpersonaldramas
whenhethinksabouther,shewasswirlinginit,kneedeepinsomuchquagmiredbullshit.
Peoplewerefallinginloveandlustwithher
everyotherday,whichshedidntgiveasec-
ondthought.Itwasallsocasual,thestrang-
ershedwakeuptosharehisspacewith,whod
feeltheirwayaroundhiskitchen,hisbath-
room.Misplacedcoffeecontainersandtooth-
brushes. Their strange ngerprints on every-
thing,herstrangecontroloverthechaosof
theirbodies,alljumbledupuglyunshavenin
theafternoonlightofemergence,exhausted
contentedhalfnakedunawares.Theirembar-
rassedlaughter,theuncomfortabilityofhim
rote
8/6/2019 Weep for the Future
5/8
lookingandjudging,theirresignedwhateverof
itman.
He writes by hand, we all knew it was coming.
Togeneralizeforsimplicityssake,itwason
thelipsofeveryone.
Itthreatenedtheveryinstitutionofeduca-
tion.
Itwouldchangetheworld.
Itwastechnology,itwasanidea,itwasev-erything,nothing.
Theageofmodularmemory,E/D.
Eidetic/Didactic.
Whenonecouldliterallybuyaneducation.
Downloaditintotheirhead,randomaccessthat
bitchincasualconversation.
YouknewAfromC.
Bwaswhatthepoorkidsdid,librariesandre-
searchandstudyingtheirassesoff,hardwork.
Bwaswhatheandshedidforfun,whatthey
weregoodat.
Gradstudentsinlovewiththebeginningofthe
end.
Thelastofadyingbreed.Atthecuspofgreatsignicant change.
She was the one who heard about it rst.
Therehadbeencasualtalkaboutthepossibil-
ityofsuchathing.Severalgadgetsweredoing
whatE/Dwouldeventuallydoonsomeprimi-
tiveembryoniclevel,wereedgingthatbleeding
line,becominganewstandard,forgingtheir
ownlineofobsolescenceintocasualconsumer
culture.Medicalbreakthroughswereeveryday
occurring,clinicaltrialsunderway,thetrend
emerging,thebuzzwordsbuzzing.
Shebroughtthethoughtintothatold
home and set them on re. The old man loved to
hatetheideaofit.Theyoungmanwasjust
apatheticandtalkingaboutitmadehimde-
pressed. She joked how shed be the rst on
theblocktotryitout.Whythefucknot.It
couldntchangeher,agadget,adevice.To
thinkofthepossibilityofitall.Endless
information, owing into your skull. The mind a
greatbigsponge,tobetappedinto,torecall,
totrivializeonawhim.Toknowsomething
instantly,orjustaboutwellenough.Itwas
alwaysthere,upthere.Harddata,awealthof
knowledge.
Literally,awealthofknowledge,asitwouldnotbecheap,thatwouldtakeyears.And
thesewerethedayswhentimemovedlikewild-
re. Knowing full well now of of the mistakes
oftheearlyadopters.Theywouldbethestuff
oflegend,thestupidhardwareglitchesand
technologicalfailures.Thehumanbiologyof
itallfailinginspectacularheadlinemaking
ways.
Buttheideawasdecisive.Shewasea-
gerfortheexperience,opentoit.Theoldman
reconciled,smiledtohimself.Hedstudied
fadsandtrends,livedthroughyearsofthis
crap,hypeandhyperbolethickwithadoles-
centaccumulation,azitofaworldchanging
idea.Butwhenitcamedowntoit,something
aboutE/Dscaredhim.Hehadearnedthatright
totremble,heemphasizedthistotheyoung
people.Herealizedhewastheoldman,thathe
had spent his life in pursuit of an inner re,
adepthofunderstandingwhichwouldbepassed
downnotbyonesandzeros,butbyalegacyof
eagerandwillingyoungminds,receptive.Fresh
theydcometohim,needinghisvoice,hispa-
ternityofthought.Thiswaswhohewas.Thiswashowhedgetoldanddie,dodderingatthe
podium,thoughtstrailingoffintotheaether,
themhalfasleeporraptwithattention,oneor
theother,thatiswhatmattered.
This was not to be, a dream that dies in fast
forward.
Hethoughtofhowhischildrenwould
learn,somedayfaroff.Hedidntwantto
thinkofallthewaysitcouldgowrong.Atage
eighteen,onecouldgettheimplant.Thecut
offpoint,highschool.Nowapublictrain-
inggroundforthebasicnecessitiesoflife.Ithadbeengoingthiswayforaslongasthey
couldseeback.Noshock,therichwouldsend
theirkidsofftoprivateinstitutions,clas-
sically modeled. To rene and develop grace
andstatureandpoiseandformality,toolsof
presencetodistancethemselvesevermorefrom
thelowerrungs,thedregs,thefootstools.The
poorwouldgototradeschools,totraintheir
bodieswithphysicalwork,whatamachinecould
notmachine.
Hewouldwantthebestforhiskids,
whateverthatwouldendupbeing,whatever
theywouldendupbeing.Hewouldkeepupwith
theJoneses,sellhissoulforhischildrens
future,becausethatwasthewayofit,theac-
ceptance he couldnt ght against any longer.
That was the ve year plan far off down
theroad.
Inthemeantime,hedhavetolivewith
bloodandtears,lessonslearnedandforgotten,
choicesnotobviousforcedfromheatedforsaken
moments,amyriadofscarringlefttohealin
strange conguration.
HewasfromArizona,thathotblistered
place,beautifulandbrokenfromsomuchexpo-
sure,constantanddreadful.Thepeople,liketheanimalsthatsurvivedovertheyears,had
becomeuglyandutilitarian,drabandunafraid.
Hewasoneofthosewhospenthishotdaysin
small,shadowedplacesnotquitecool,with
abookinfrontofhisface.Hewasofmixed
blood,likemosteveryoneelse,coloredbythe
sun,forgetfulofheritage,amoltedchild
whoseearlytenderskincameofflikescales,
hardenedlikesteeldrownedinwater.Hewould
walkthroughthisworldwithanoutstretched
shieldborrowedfromthepubliclibrary.Hewas
untouchable,holdingitoutinfrontofhim.
Theirwordsbouncedoffhim,itswordssoaked
8/6/2019 Weep for the Future
6/8
throughhim,hewasinvisible,hewasscenery,
atrickofheatdistortedafternoonlight,he
waselsewhere,agawkyshimmer.
Heescapedfromtherewithabitof
surprise,itneverdawnedonhimuntilhewas
here.
Cold,dark,rainy,elsewhere,abus
ticketwithanarmyduffelbag.Filledwith
paperbacksmostly,andbluejeans.Another
world,likesomeplacehedreadabout.Every-
thingdifferent,butnothingimpossible.Hewasafraidtostartspeakingtothesepalepeople,
theirlanguagefamiliarlyalien.Butwhenhe
did,hefoundhehadavoicethatexcitedthese
newpeople.Theycamealivetohearhimspeak
inhisborderbeat,hisobliviousunformed
twang.
Hekeptonreadingforhimself,studi-
ousbecausethatwaswhathewasgoodat.He
learnedtobreakaparttheideasheldinside
thetextandformulatecriticalthinking.
Beforeheleft,ahighschoolhistory
teachertookhimtotheconveniencestoreand
boughthimfortyafterforty,whichtheysipped
slowlybyhistruck,anddivulgedthesecretofhisownlongoffeducation.
Ididntpayforagoddamnthing.Igot
alibrarycard.Readthebooks,snuckintothe
classes.Allwhileworkinginconstruction.
Madesomemoney.Theyllacceptyouasoneof
theirown,allyouhavetodoisthinktheway
theydo.Soreadasmuchasyoucan.Youcant
help but ll up on the greatness of it all if
youjustlookatitasthelifetimeyounever
gottolive.Itsallaboutperspective,put
yourselfintheauthorsshoes,trytounder-
standtheirwords.Becausewordsareaboutcon-
nection.Anddontreadcrap.Theressomuch
brilliantstuffyoullnevergettoreadinone
lifetimeasitis.Youvegottenaheadstart
alreadyonmostyourpissantclassmates.So
justkeepdoingwhatyouredoingandyoullbe
fuckingbrilliant.Guaranteed.
ShewasfromCalifornia,anddatedonly
girlsinhighschoolandwastryingboysnow,
butwasoftenseenmakingoutwithgirlsinthe
backsofmovietheatersandlaughinguproari-
ouslyatnothingthathadcomefromthescreen.
Sheandhedated,afterafashion.Shedshown
himofftobothherrecentlydivorcedestranged
parentswhohadcomevisitingondifferentdes-ignatedvisitingdays,luggedhimaroundonher
arm,proudtohavethisstrangeuglybeautiful
boyframeher.Shecouldlistentohimtalkall
nightlong,hecouldjustwatchherfallasleep
nightafternight.
Theystartedexploringeachotheraf-
terstayingupallnightwatchingoldmovies,
Cabaretwasherfavorite,shewasinlovewith
squeakingLizaMinelli,longdeadthatsassand
sexiness,throatylegsthatdisappearedinto
sequinedunderwear.Theywerespooningwatch-
ingwhenheplungedhishandinthebackofher
underwear,workinghiswaydown.
Shepassedonhertastetohim.Abstract
andhighlysexualasexual,inlovewithimage
andvitality,wordsspoken,sungandshout-
ed.TheyateMediterraneanfoodonthepatio
ofarestaurant,shetoldhimaboutherlast
girlfriend,toldhimhowshehadjusttaken
off,graduated,leavingthepoorthinghang-
ing,preparedhimtobedisappointedlikewise,
made explicit her ightiness, her indecision,
herlustforlife.Shewouldnotbetamed,no.
Shewouldnotbeburdenedbyanythingmaleatthispointinherlife.Shetoldhimnottoask
seriousquestions,toldhimshewouldbedat-
ingotherpeople,andifhehadaproblemwith
this,shedstopdatinghimandkeepdating
otherpeopleregardless.
Shewasdifferentandhopedhewasdif-
ferent.Shewouldmakenodemandsofhisheart,
asktoshareatinylittlebitoftimeonthis
hereearth,makeaconnectionbecausethatwas
whatmatteredintheend.
Hewasquietthroughallthis,hisface
tight,almostangry.Seeminglyhewantedto
slapher,becausehewasnotlikethis,this
wasnothisworld,nothisperspective.Hewaslimitedandcouldnotmakeherseehisone
trackmind,thegreathugedifferenceinper-
spective.Hewasformal,hewasrigid,hewas
smalltownnobodymadehalf-waygood.Hereshe
was making him helpless, making it difcult to
breathe.Sohewentalongwithit.Sheinter-
pretedhissilenceasacceptance.
Notes about what, he writes in BOLD, ugly, like
a shout out to no one.
Hepressedthemusictohisears.Stain-
inghisthoughtlikearuinedwash,everyar-
ticleofthoughtinfected.Hehadjustaccepted
aninvitetoanewstudentgroupformingon
campus. He was unsure about the afliation, but
positiveofhisposition,hisstanceregard-
less.Whyhehadagreedtocome,hefeltbacked
intoacorner,pressuredistheword.
Soheshowsup,lookinglikeachump.
Thedaywasglorious,unusualfortheseason.
Hehadenjoyedhimselfsinceblinkingaware,
almostforgottenaboutthepurelymentalat
thispointcommitment.Butthethoughtsprung
onhimoutofnowhere,remindinghimashewas
jauntingthroughthegloryoftheseason,fra-
grancelikeatrigger,thesightofbeautifulyoungpeoplesmotheringeachotherundertrees,
thespinningheadyswimmingqualityofrandom
association.Hewalkedtothelibrary,where
theydassembledinameetingroom.
Theyweremotleyofshapeandsizeand
temperament.Theangryhyperskinnygirl,the
endlesslyjokingfatboy,thederailedpast
theprimetrainwreckofgenderconfusion,
theclosetedintellectualfratboy,thechild
whoseparentwaitedelsewhere,andtheoldman
whoworesimplewhitelinens.Andhe,lostand
drunkoffsomuchthoughtandquietdisplaced
aggression.
8/6/2019 Weep for the Future
7/8
Whatwashemadabout.Whenhesatdown
tothinkaboutit.Whichhetriedtoavoiddo-
ing.
Whatbroughthimhereatthishour,and
madehimtheirleader,whentheyhuddledto-
getherinparliamentaryprocedureagreementthe
weekafter.Helookedthepart,hesoundedthe
part,andsoheplayedthepart.
The part where he apologizes to everyone in-
volved.
DonWallerwasnotagoodmanifyou
takethesumofhisactionsinlifetogetheras
awhole.Hedidnotlivebythegoldenrule.He
was known as a erce human being, making single
motherscryinsupermarkets,lettingpeople
knowhowtrulydumbandpathetictheywerein
hiseyesandthusverilytheeyesofall.His
commandovertheEnglishword,language,utter-
ancenearlyabsolute,oftenwieldingandwaving
itlikeabloodydagger.
Hewouldsighaudiblywhenhewasnt
pleased.
DonWallerwasnotagoodman,buthewaseducated.
Hewasmarriedanddivorced,early,mid-
dleandlateinlife.Hehadchildren,forgot-
tenabout,whowouldappearoutofnowhereand
demandfacetime.DonWallerwouldstudythese
strangecreatures,theirmotherssometimesap-
pearinghatefullyoutofnowhere,beautifully
capturedatintervals,himselfneverrecogniz-
able.Becausehedidnotknowhimself.Hewas
alwayswhohewas,buthegaveitnothought,
whatmatteredwastheword,notthesechanging
faces.Hiddenlikeburiedtreasure,absolute
inhispursuit.Hisknowledgewoulddiewith
him,andlikethepiratecaptain,hewoulddie
happyknowinghisbootylaylonesome,scraps
scatteredtohisloyallieutenants.DonWaller
lovedwordsthatwerentwords,hisownspoken
human failings, which he wrote denitions for,
Hurm.Worthyofthought,butnotmuch,
nowletmedaydreamandforgetaboutyou
please.
Uhf.ThesoundImakewhenIamtired,
exhaustedandhavenothingelseleftto
say,Iamdevoid.
Wouf. Thesaidfeelingfeltinold
knees,theexhaleofsatisfactionafter
alongnightofdrinking,fuckingand
smokingalltogethernow.
Astudentwrotethiscritiqueofhiminaclass
evaluation,
ProfessorWallerisafuckingbastard.Agram-
marNazioftheworstkind,whichprobablygot
himtenurehere,huh?Hewroteonmymid-term,
I will FUCKING KILL YOU if you write something
thisbadeveragain.Hemeantit.Hewasnicer
tomethanotherstudents.Onegirlleftclass
intearsfourtimes.ProfessorWallercalled
heramasochist.Beforethathecalledherachild,anilliteratebum,anignorantgoon,and
alazyworthlessdraininclassroomdiscussion.
Hemeantit.Idrecommendthisclasstoallmy
enemies.Idtakethisclassagain,ifonlyto
seehimstrokeoutmid-rant.Still,hegetsmy
highestmarks,shovethisupyourpencilpush-
ingacademicbureaucraticasshole.Allhailthe
word.
Mistakes are like children, hard to take back.
Sohegotherpregnant,andshewasin
thehospitalbecauseoftheattack,onthe
vergeoflosingtheirbaby.Herheadwaswhitegauzedontherightsidewheretheelectric
drillhadgonein.Shewaswhisperingtoher-
selfwhenhehadcomein.Sherecognizedhim
andstartedcrying.Beforefallingasleep,
shedtoldhimaboutit,herwordsscrambled
brokenunfamiliar.Thedamagehadbeendone.
They were ying in a specialist. He consoled
heraftershewasasleep,pettingherforearm,
goingagainstthetinycleararmhairs,skin
pimpledincold,deep,druggedsleep.
Hewenttothepersonhethoughthad
doneit.Thefatboywhomadejokes.Theywere
sitting around a monitor, one of them had lmed
it.Theyinvitedhimtositdownandwatch,and
he did. He sat there quiet in reection. Let-
tingtheimagespourthroughhim.Hewassmil-
ing,crying,laughingwiththem,cursingthem
openly.Theygavehimatallbeer,whichhesat
andsipped.
Theywererapists.Hefelttherushof
humiliation,shame,utterlyunforgiving.They
brokeapartherbeautifulmind,ruinedher,
leftherspentandshaking.Therewasnogoing
back.Someofthemwouldbefoundout,incar-
cerated,diebecauseofthis.
Hecutoffhistiestothemthatnight.
Wentbacktohersideinthemorning,andwhenthesuncameupandtheycameintoadjusther
drip,shewokeupandhelistenedtoherweep.
Crackle like static electric, welcome to this
world of mine.
Mneme is a student at the hypothetical
School for the Underground Minds. Its work
has appeared elsewhere.
8/6/2019 Weep for the Future
8/8