When I was a little boy, I found an old Bible in the basement. The book frightened me, for the thought of a holy book was eerie and mysterious. It was a dark, dusty, tattered volume; it was scary, this book so laden with importance and damnation. I opened the Bible, and read the first few chapters. What struck me was that when Adam and Eve ate the fruit, they suddenly knew they were naked. Only babies and animals don't know they're naked. It struck me as wise; for men are animals, but deviant animals: beasts with a great deformity of brain, which sends them into a million complex perversions of nature, such as guilt and love and knowing they're naked.

When I was a child I used to pretend I was a dog.

When I was a child I used to eat raw beef as my mother was cooking.

When I was a child I put insects into my mouth.

When I was a child I wasn't ashamed at being naked.

In my travels from the eastern shore I grew cold; I was alone; I was hungry and clothed in rags. I sat back, terrified at what lay ahead on my journey; I was afraid and my existence was damnation. I thought back upon the eastern shore . . . I thought back to where I had seen men and women eat their corn for flesh and barley for blood . . . and I looked ahead at the great metal walls enclosing everything . . . the entire universe no longer a god but a metal machine . . . sickness and death . . . sickness and death.

A thousand hooks bit into my flesh, tore at me and at every living being . . . and there was no escape, no escape. And the Perfect Woman was no more . . . the Perfect Man was no more . . . there was only the Perfect Machine, cold and unalive.

The Perfect Machine with its sickness and death . . .

And the bloody grin of Kali . . . and her two steel fangs that sucked the soul from all flesh.

And on the eastern shore an ape plucks a new, glowing-red fruit from a tree. She tastes it. She likes it. She takes it to her mate, who bites and devours.

That night the entire tribe of apes laze about the strange new tree, eating the bright red fruit, stuffing themselves, stuffing themselves.

Cabeza de Vaca. A dream. A vision.

Cabeza de Vaca. A dream. A vision.

End