Liberty

Who shall be our protagonist?

Why, let's name him Eric James.

And what is he like?

Like most people. He doesn't get enough sleep. He struggles to make himself exercise. He is moderately good looking and likes music and cable TV.

What shall be interesting about him? What shall be the plot?

Why, he shall awake one morning and discover that he has forgotten how to own things.

Do you know how to own things?

I suppose I own some things right now. In fact quite a few things.

And just how do you go about owning things?

That's what Eric James wishes he could remember. He picks up, say, a book, and feels no special connection that tells him the book is his.

And what shall happen to him next?

Why, his clothes shall feel alien to him--alien things touching his body.

What shall he do with them?

He shall cast them off. He shall walk around his apartment naked, trying to remember how to own things.

Would he feel ashamed should someone see him?

No, he would not feel ashamed.

Quite a predicament.

Yes, quite a predicament.

And what shall happen to him next?

He shall dislike cooked food. He shall eat his food raw, and drink only water.

And what else?

He shall forget how to see a TV screen.

What?

He shall forget how to make sense of the disjointed lights and colors of his TV.

And what shall he do then?

Well, he is growing quite frustrated.

Indeed he is.

And he shall hurl his TV out the window of his apartment.

And then?

And then he shall realize he has forgotten how to own his name.

His very name?

His very name.

And what shall happen next to this newly nameless man?

His cat shall bite him, and he shall kill her.

And will he feel guilty?

No. He will not feel guilty.

And what shall he do with the body?

He shall eat it raw.

And what shall he do next?

He shall forget how to use his toilet, and soil his floors with dung.

And shall he feel disgusted at the dung?

No. Not in the least.

And what shall his life be like? I mean, his daily routine?

He shall wander about eating all the food in his apartment and drinking water from the faucet.

And shall he use a cup? Or cup his hands under the faucet?

No. He shall put his lips over its end, and drink it that way.

And what will he do when the food in his apartment runs out?

He shall eat the cockroaches that infest it.

And will this be difficult for him?

No. It will not be difficult.

And is there a happy ending? Shall he be cured?

He will stare at amazement in his mirror one day, suddenly remember how to see himself in the mirror, suddenly remember how to own things, suddenly remember that he owns a gun, and, well . . .

And? And? And?

And he shall have a vision--don't be offended--but he shall have a vision of a great wedding feast. There shall be a bride, and a bridegroom: the Church, and the Lamb. There shall be people dressed in fine clothes and wine and musicians. There shall be attendants to fill wineglasses and serve food and dainties. And there shall be a great empty platter in the center of the table, and the bridegroom shall squat upon it, and shit. The people shall eat, and be filled. And the bridegroom shall look to the wine, and turn it to urine.

And? And? And?

Lord bless this bread, that it may become our spiritual food . . . and Lord bless this wine, that it may become our spiritual drink . . .

What about the gun?

What? What? What? What?

I don't understand this at all.

End