RICHIE - CHAPTER SIX (Twitter Novel / Keitai Shosetsu)

so i look up ah pook online
and it takes me awhile but i
find it and ive kind of got
richie on something

so i go down to his room in
the dorm and i knock and go
in and its totally messy in
there with heaps of clothes

and piles of books all over
the place and he doesnt have
a computer not even one of
those ancient word
processors

theres just this typing thing
on his desk with the paper
right in it and its huge and
shiny and black like my
grandmas sewing machine

and the sheets and
pillowcases on the bed where
hes lying are black too which
weirds me out because all i
can think of

is that sheets like those would
totally show beat off stains
but i guess maybe richie isnt
the type to beat off even
though hed be

the first one i ever met richie
leans up on his elbow and
puts his book down goes
–hey- and hes not super
psyched to see me

but he doesnt seem irritated
either so i walk over and go
–hey i looked up ah pook-
and he says –oh really what
did you find-

but before i can answer i see
what hes got decorating the
wall over his bed and its all
pictures and articles

from magazines and tabloids
and what looks like crime
scene photos and its all about
the salinas high school
shooting

and im like -what the fuck is
all this- and he looks up and
goes -oh that- like its totally
normal

and im like -uh yeah- and
he goes -why do you ask-
kind of thoughtfully and i go
–it just seems really
depressing to me-

he looks back over to me and
goes -really do you think so
because i dont i find it really
interesting and kind of

-exciting- and im like -you
find pointless murder
exciting- and he waves his
hand dismissively

-not the murder part so much
that was just kind of an
unfortunate by-product- and
i snort -oh really-

but he just goes on like i
didnt say anything -but
pointless thats just not true
not pointless everything they
did was planned

-and i mean everything i
think they even planned out
when they were gonna shoot
each other and where-

im getting pretty grossed out
-you think they planned it so
theyd end up in the cafeteria
that doesnt make any sense-

-no no i meant where on
their bodies- and richie
makes a gun with his hand
and points it grinning at his
face

and im like -oh- and he goes
-so they couldnt have open
caskets at their funerals-
and im like -oh- again

he sits all the way up on the
bed -youre one to get all
weird about it dee dee you
were like one step away
yrself-

i wince -yeah man but i
dont think it was cool or
anything like that it was just
something i did

-i can actually barely
remember anything about
that day- and richie shrugs
-fair enough-

then he goes on -but what i
was saying before was that
nothing about it was pointless
like no one notices the
importance of the date-

and im like -the date- and he
goes -yeah december first
twelve-oh-one- and he looks
at me all expectantly and i
have no idea why

he sighs -its a time 12:01
one minute after midnight its
a new day- he sits back
smiling -yesterdays gone

-too late to change the past-
and he looks satisfied but i
think about it for a minute
and go -but 12:01 couldnt
that be

- one minute after noon too-
and he processes what i said
and goes -what the fuck
would that symbolize-

and i think for a second and
smile -lunch- and richie
stares at me unblinking for
like a minute then looks away
then back to me

-okay you get a pass on that
one because thats actually
really funny- he shakes his
head chuckles -it
symbolizes lunch you
asshole

- so anyway what did you
find out about ah pook- and i
remember i want to catch him
off guard so i have to say it
exactly

-you spelled it wrong but
other than that the stuff you
told me was all pretty much
right-

and he goes -what do you
mean i spelled it wrong- and
im like -its ah P-U-C-H- and
hes all –no its not

-in the burroughs book he
spells it P-O-O-K its an
accepted variation- and i
smile -yeah i know about
the burroughs book

-but thats like a character if
you were gonna do it for real
you should have spelled it
like the mayans did- and hes
a little pissed

-what the fuck do you know
about the mayans- and im
like -enough to know that if
im gonna write some shit on
the wall

-im gonna spell it right- and
he just sighs and drops back
onto the bed -whatever dee
dee if it werent for the
goddamn interwebs

-you wouldnt know anything-
and im starting to feel like i
pushed too hard and lost my
advantage somehow

but then i see it on the far
side of the bed behind him
and i totally forget all that –is
that do you have a teddy
bear-

he sits back up grins picks
up the bear -sure- then after
a second -i dont like to sleep
alone dee dee- then drops
back down and rolls over

with his book -see yrself out-
and he totally waves me off
and as im leaving im thinking
that even though i basically
made him admit

to me that he did the graffiti
he somehow told me less
about him than i ended up
telling him about me

//again//

GUN CRAZY (Part Eighteen)

.

..

...

- my bright and shining aimless generation-

fear not for your lack of aim

the others the others your fathers and mothers

all went off way too quick

a flash in the pan before the pander

the bark was loud but the bite wasn't vicious

the fire was bright and fine

but when the smoke cleared

the mark was missed

but still They insist

a one-shot stopped a war

one day they'll know what aim is

one day they'll see you were biding your time

waiting for the motorcade to pull into view

one day your aim will be dead on

and you will let fly, my brothers and sisters

let fly

fly

...

..

.

GUN CRAZY (Part Seventeen)

Marvellous Keene, where are you tonight? Me and my girlfriend saw it on the AP wire, all lurid and red-lit: the picturesquely named Mr. Keene and his friends, all aged 18-23, went on a two-state killing spree, all stolen cars and bullets, until apprehended by the authorities - 'once they got the bloodlust, they couldn't stop' sez the arresting officer - who were these monsters that a charged officer of the law would murmur such slander against innocent-til-proven-guilty post-teens? Why now isn't Marvellous Keene's name spoken in the same reverential tones as Charles Starkweather or Bonnie and Clyde? Picture It, Now: Marvellous and his equally marvelous friends, television-damaged and numb, finding their only way back to sensation, their only path to a nerve ending jump start through the sure-fire avenues of blood and speed? Sad, now: doomed to crackle out in the failed electric charge of an unaccepted AP transmission - Where is the cult? Where are the glossy black and white posters? Where is the doomed adolescent finger-printy fanzine detailing their parole dates? And where, where is Marvellous Keene tonight?


this is what we mean when we talk about guns -
- this is what I signify when I use the word crazy

GUN CRAZY (Part Sixteen)

Let's kill our downstairs neighbors and take all their cool stuff

we could do it you know that we could


we've been listening to that stereo
for thirteen goddamn nights now
that subwoofer is going through the roof


so take my hand
and don't speak and don't breathe
and let's get it on for real and true this time
(it's just time
before everything we want is in our hands)

GODDAMN IT: JG BALLARD IS DEAD

i dont normally post non-fiction stuff on here but jg ballard is dead. him, burroughs, bukowski and (lester) bangs were the b-boys, the ones who shaped the development of my writing, my head, my heart, the reason i never got to "c" in the library. goddamn it. i never get sad about the deaths of famous people because i never met them or drank with them or talked with them, but this feels different. saying anything more than that would become mawkish and sentimental, two things that ballard never was (in his writing, at least - again, i never knew the man). but, jesus christ, he was a giant. he rewired the world. we will not see his like again. goddamn it.

RICHIE - CHAPTER FIVE (Twitter Novel / Keitai Shosetsu)

the words are huge and hard
to miss right on the brick
wall leading to the cafeteria

-AH POOK IS HERE- in
thick curvy black spray
painted letters and its weird

cuz if it was -FUCK YOU-
or -FAIRVIEW SUX- it
would make more sense and
you could just

say -what a shame- or -thats
awesome- and call it a day
but no one knew if ah pook
was a band

or a dj or a drug and no one
knows what to think really
except wtf but then mr nulles
the assistant dean comes out
with crisis staff

and hes huge but its not just
fat theres muscle there too
plus hes just kind of wide like
a wall

and to add to it hes got no
hair and creepy red-tinted
glasses and the thinnest lips
ive ever seen on a guy that fat

so he stands and looks for
like way too long because it
basically takes about 2
seconds to read but he peers
at it for almost 5 minutes

and then slowly turns his
gaze on all the boys gathered
around talking and laughing
and they quiet down a little

but they cant punk out just
cuz nulles looks at them
funny but after awhile he
stalks back in with the crisis
guys in tow

and richie comes up behind
me scratching and yawning
and goes -what did i miss-
and i just shrug -ah pook is
here-

and he brightens and goes
-oh really- and im all -you
know what ah pook is- and
richie says -well

-ah pook isnt a what hes a
who hes one of the mayan
gods of destruction- and first
i go -how do you know that-
and then

-did you do this- and his eyes
get big and he laughs -no
not at all- and i go -who else
here would know about ah
pook- and he says -idk

-but somebody here is cooler
than i gave them credit for-
his eyes narrow at me -did
you do it- and i say -no- like
way too loud

-of course you didnt yr not
that cool- and i just scowl
-har dee fuckin har- pause a
minute -but what does it
even mean though-

richie says -well ah pook is
here destruction is on the
way- he shrugs and i look at
him until he looks away and i
go -you did do it-

and he laughs again hides it
pretty good but theres a
nervous edge -cmon dee dee
do i look like a graffiti guy

-i dont even own a
skateboard- and by the time
he stops talking nulles is back
and dean cuddy is with him
and he just looks

at the wall for a long time
almost as long as nulles and
then he turns to the boys
standing around talking and
laughing

//he kind of looks like an
older brad pitt or if russell
crowe had sandy blonde hair

the kind of guy my mom
would think is hot and my
dad would just shake his head
and sigh//

anyway cuddy says -this is
incredibly uncool- the last
word hangs in the air he
sighs -im not going to ask
who did this

-because i dont expect any of
you to snitch- almost smiles
-i wouldnt if i were you but-
he looks back to the brick
wall

richie leans into me whispers
-see how long it takes before
he mentions the money he
wont be able to help himself
watch-

cuddy goes on -we ask so
little of you guys do you
know what i mean- total
silence -we want this to be a
pleasant place to learn

-and all you have to do is not
destroy it- shakes his head
-do you know do you have
any idea how many hours

-how much it is going to cost
fairview to somehow sand
this off and finish it again- i
look at richie and he raises
his eyebrows

cuddy gestures to the rest of
the facade that leads to the
cafeteria -we cant just paint
one wall and leave it

-looking like garbage- and
richie clears his throat and
says -uh dean cuddy-

and his voice is shaking a
little bit not a lot but if you
know him okay you could tell

and cuddy looks right at him
and his face is unreadable as
he says -yes richie-
pleasantly enough and

richie goes -why is it that uh
some of the rules here are
more important than um
others- and his voice actually
sounds sincere

cuddys eyes kind of light up
and he says -what exactly do
you mean richie- and hes not
pissed or confused

but more like excited and
richie says -well someone
wrote on the wall and
obviously thats bad and i get
that and why yr mad

-but pretty much every night
guys are drinking and
smoking weed in the dorm-
and you could hear a pin drop
in the quiet that results

-and you dont get pissed
about that in fact- and richie
is getting less nervous as he
goes on -no one really seems
to care

-but thats against the rules
too right i mean both things
are against the rules- and
richie is looking right at him

cuddy looks back and looks
back for a really long time
and now hes shifted into this
weird calm place and says
-so richie

-if im correct- breathes
-what im hearing you say is
youre seeing a discrepancy in the
way in which the rules are
enforced around here

-is that right- and richies a
little too smug when he says
-partly- and cuddy smiles
and says -well

-what i could do is start drug
testing everyone in the dorm
and that would probably even
things out then wouldnt it-

and guys are shouting at
richie -shut the fuck up- and
-what are you doing asshole-
and -narc- and cuddy just
smiles

and richie says something
back but i cant hear it and
cuddy says -what- and cups
his ear but then the bell rings

everyone just starts walking
inside and a couple guys
punch richie on the arm and
frejean clips him upside the
head

so richie bites his lower lip
and clips him back and
frejean turns fists raised but
richie

just grins at him and frankie
does that chest-out punk-off
thing but richie doesnt flinch
so frejean just calls him fag

and richie scoffs and as the
other boys all filter in he
walks up to cuddy and goes

-you would never really drug
test- and smiles like
knowingly -it would cost
way too much-

cuddy raises his eyebrows
and again his expression is
more excited than angry -oh
really- smiles -well see-

nulles moves his bulky frame
in front of cuddy and grunts
-i know you- to richie out of
his weird-shaped mouth

richie looks away -of course-
he tries to laugh it off but
nulles says -from before i
know you-

and richie still wont meet his
eyeline -whatever- shakes
his head and goes inside and i
follow looking back

at nulles and cuddy watching
us until were somehow safe
inside

GUN CRAZY (Part Fifteen)

While they're waiting for me to meet them, the angels, they sometimes have a cocktail or two in this neighborhood watering hole, always refuse the little weenies on the sticks, rub up against the locals - watch the wings, fella - bullshit about football, watch their backs, always looking at the door for the tell-tale hitman halo, listen to sob stories, reel out a few of their own, toss peanuts into their mouths, never miss one, talk shop - yeah, the higher the hem the better off you'll be on those long flights - wonder about the future, always sweet to the waitress, yeah, yeah, lousy tippers, though, angels.

(what are those hitmen packing? what kind of bullet kills an angel?)

GUN CRAZY (Part Fourteen)

there's a price on the angels' heads
they can't be seen around my house anymore
there's no place in Heaven or Hell for them now
I guess that they'll be hanging here awhile
the Heaven-sent hitmen are obvious
gold chains dangle down their chests
they make up excuses to come to my door
and none of them ever make sense
they stammer and stutter out some cover
supply yet another fake mother's name
and that very same mother or substitute other
walks up and treats them like a stranger again

sometimes you can see them blush under the disguises

GUN CRAZY (Part Thirteen)

Hello, Teenage America!

they wasted me
I was wasted
from the beginning
from the waist up

They had television take me out

I was set to be so beautiful
I was set to be Arthur Rimbaud
with a radio

I never asked for this miasma
of fuzzystatic forms
I was leaning on my life too long
and it fell asleep

please
slam it hard a few times against the wall for me
wake it up

RICHIE - CHAPTER FOUR (Twitter Novel / Keitai Shosetsu)

the videogame is called
pimptastic 2 and its totally
against the rules of fairview
to play it

but its also totally against the
rules to smoke weed and
download broadband internet
porn and drink 40s but

no one ever gets in trouble
for any of that stuff either so
as soon as staff leaves at
around 930 they break it out

so everyone feels all
rebellious and stuff and
giggly when the call goes
down the hallway

-ARE YOU READY FOR
THIS- in a death metal growl
just like on the opening
screen of the game

and it gets pulled out from
under some mattress and
plugged into the g5 which is
attached to the 52 inch
flatscreen

and then theres a big pissing
contest for whos gonna play
and the two winners grab the
controllers

and take their places on
opposite sides of the split
screen while me and the other
also-rans

hunker down on the couches
in the back to watch and trash
talk and break balls and
jockey for next

this kid justin huddled next to
me both of us trying
desperately not to touch each
other

says to me through a curtain
of hair -have you ever gotten
to play this thing- and i say

-hell i never even played
pimptastic 1- and justin is
genuinely shocked

-really its great i mean this
one is much better there
werent any real cheats on the
first one except the sex one

-and you could only kill the
other pimps- and i go -hm-

and he goes -yeah kinda
limited but this ones just sick
you can have sex with the
whores or kill them and

-if you figure it out you can
give the pregnant one a
coathanger abortion- and he
says the last two words

like he was saying -christmas
morning- and it would be
almost sweet if it wasnt
completely insane

then richie walks into the
common room doorway
looks over and kinda scowls
at me and i dont know why

but the game starts with some
wukkachukka guitar and then
were on the street and the
pimps are pimp walking and
pimp slapping

and frankie frejean on the left
side starts to try and turn out
a new whore so hes got her in
this motel room

and hes doing her and theres
this colored line like the
lifeline that goes up and up as
hes doing her and

i guess its like the excitement
line or something and if you
can make her come then she
joins your stable

so he makes it and everybody
goes nuts and i hear richie
clear his throat and he goes
-hey frejean-

and frankie doesnt respond
just keeps hitting the g5
controller and glaring at the
screen and richie goes

-hey frejean not bad ever
make a real girl come- and
frankie doesnt look back just
throws a middle finger in the
air behind him

and i look back and richies
smiling now -no really im
serious you did a great job
and all but did you ever make
a girl come

-without a g5 controller- and
frejean drops it turns and
whips a half full coke can at
richies head and he ducks

and it whizzes past
harmlessly into the hallway
and richie bobs back up
smiling -got my answer-

and somebody shouts -jesus
frankie look out- and frejean
turns back grabs the
controller mutters
obscenities

and richie leans in the
doorway looking smug and
justin says to me between
sips off his 40 ounce

-that guys a dick- pauses
-but you hang out with him
sometimes right- and i shrug
and go -yeah sometimes

-sometimes i wonder why-
and justin scoffs and goes
-no doubt- and i look back to
the game and now the scenes
shifted

to some dingy room in a slum
somewhere and frejeans pimp
is beating up one of his
whores i dont know why

but every time his pimp
punches the whore with his
pixilated fist her pixilated
head snaps back

and on the audio track theres
a digitized crack and a high
pitched -oh- and as it repeats
and repeats with every punch

it becomes a digital rhythm
track like any other crack
after crack -oh- after -oh-
beat beat beat beat beat beat

and all of the other boys are
shouting some pumping their
fists i see richie in the
doorway face wooden not
smiling

and someone shouts -use the
cane- and i laugh -use the
cane- cuz i cant believe it
can go any deeper than this

and frejeans thumbs are a
blur on the controller and his
pimp wavers in position 2 or
3 times onscreen before he
reaches down and

grabs a pixilated cane with a
diamond head raises it with
both hands and brings it
down on the whores head

slightly louder digitized crack
slightly louder -oh- and a
pixilated spray of blood
appears and disappears right
after the hit

and all the boys go -ooooh-
like that and the whores
lifeline drops into the red
and im totally into it

and i go -jesus- and i cant
even believe i say it but i do
-have you had enough bitch-

everyone explodes in
laughter and justin punches
me in the shoulder and i see
richie out of the corner of my
eye

just leave without saying
anything and then frejean hits
the combination one last time

and the cane falls and the
whore dies and a round of
applause follows and then its
new players and

justin shares his 40 with me
which is cool but after awhile
it gets kind of boring to
watch it all again

and my stomach kind of hurts
and i dont really wanna see
the coathanger thing so i just
basically go to bed

GUN CRAZY (Part Twelve)

I'll join your Public Witness Program
yeah, sure, I'll testify
you put me in a new place
with a new face

I'll trade you a lot
I'd trade you a lot
for a lot like that

a fresh-cut lawn
a fresh-cut head
on a boy my age
in a sunshine-freckle halo
on a substitute
sweetened a bit
to enjoy it this time

No Halloween

GUN CRAZY (Part Eleven)

shoot it down - shoot it all down

Let's see you make sense of the void
Let's see you make sense of the hole in the sky
there are things beyond television
there are things beyond your control


I'm watching for the possibilities of your amazement
I'm looking for the chink in your armor
I'm thinking about shutting it down
shutting it all down

We've been shutting it up for so long
shooting it up into the sky
saluting its irrevocable descent
burying it quietly and politely
taking it lightly
letting it slide

-no escape routes tonight-

you shoot it up there one more time
and for once we'll stand our ground
and won't let it come down
and for once we'll be the bullies of the sky
alright?

GUN CRAZY (Part Ten)

>

>

>

I got all excited

I called in the air strike

I called it a coup

the press wasn't invited

>

The gentle rainforest

the Roman colisseum

the bhikku priesthood

the medical museum

>

The 7-11

the monsters of God

the endless highway

the river of Sod

<

The Masters of War

the Ponies of Peace

I phoned all their parents

I called in their lease

<

<

<

GUN CRAZY (Part Nine)

I was crawling from the wreckage of the USA
from out from under the Kennedy car-crash
we plowed into a concrete island
we didn't look back

Now I wear the cracked rear-view
around my neck like a jewel
foreign-born kings
bow and kiss my ring
I am America


(i am guns and cars and the superhighway
i am color and excitement
i am murder
i am television
i am las vegas, nevada!
i am sex with a showgirl

in a showroom)

GUN CRAZY (Part Eight)

the angels came last night

left bullets under my pillow
left kisses on my brow
left monsters in the corner
left just a plan, for now



sisters, brothers, I'm awaiting further instructions
the go code
let me go release me let me release


drop the chain
pop the cork
open the floodgates

open fire

GUN CRAZY (Part Seven)

Out here in the jungle
we on a Che Guevara trip
we got Alchemy and Arms
we got a sack of submachineguns
we got Maps we got Legends
we got it all justified
we have our Orders

from a power beyond High



it's only me and Her
we pick nits off each others' fur
(all this and the fact that there's only two of us
reduces the mutiny potential
considerably)



ahhhh yeah
she caught me smilin'

GUN CRAZY (Part Six)

~

~

~

I met some angels

convinced them to cross the line

it wasn't hard

I had the pictures

Picture That:

blackballed from Heaven -

Heaven Knows

where an angel goes

when the awful truth gets out

So I compromised their position

and they coughed up for our side

told me my sister was alive

asleep

and dreaming

~

~

~

GUN CRAZY (Part Five)

.

.

ever since the first time I laid eyes upon you

you don't know how hard it is to let you go

.

.

I gave you everything

I crawled to touch your hem

You, with your thousand angels

You, with your legion of saints

You, with the Will and the Blood

You, with the Power and the Glory

Everlasting Everything

.

.

everything

I gave you everything

.

.

I gave you my sister

to bear witness to her beauty

Did it make you bitter?

You put her in a cell

Was she such a challenge?

Was it such a race?

.

.

(Did it rake you when she said 'No'

as you bent to kiss her face?)

.

.

.

GUN CRAZY (Part Four)

She's a pretty assassin
She kills the pretty
She got supermodels in her sights


a lipstick killer / a StayFreedom fighter
I knight her / I dub her a tape


a soundtrack to hold her full through the night
(my favorite bands I wished that she liked)


A love song to sing
as she spreads metal wings
and makes her way by fire

Through the pages of Vogue
And the strawhouse of style
Watch the mall go up in a pyre




(quick, quick: find the ashes
make a book
this is a hunter
this is a spear
this is makeup cracking
this is fear)

GUN CRAZY (Part Three)

"take him out"

the mission was imprinted on her tongue
laced in her saliva
spoken through her kiss


there's a code in her DNA
her chain twines with mine
tumbles down into my gene pool
my system crash
in a last splash



gave up the ghost
exhaled into her mouth
touched her face - what's done is done

both barrels pointed at the sun

GUN CRAZY (Part Two)

me and my girlfriend declared war on you last night
you were asleep you didn't notice
we held each other crying on the bathroom floor


we wrote in tears
on toilet paper


it said:
PLEASE RELEASE OUR SISTER
IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE WE'VE SEEN HER
HISTORY HOLDS YOU RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS

we hold you responsible for her


She remains in prison
You remain in our sights
- towers, open fire -

GUN CRAZY (Part One)

nobody moves - nobody gets hurt

Shut Up and Listen
if I have to use this
I will


- These Are Our Demands -
we want amnesty for our angels
we want to be deified as heroes
we want a political prisoner released
we want our Enemy to cease
and desist His actions
against the pure and easy heirs
to the mantle
of the Sun
- These Are Our Demands -


They are simple and direct
We are righteous and correct
We will be followed


Follow Me

RICHIE - CHAPTER THREE (Twitter Novel / Keitai Shosetsu Version)

next day lunch the cafeterias
weird cuz its like a
combination of like
spaceport and french bistro

its all like domed glass
windows and colored tubes
and little round tables each
with room for four white
wicker chairs

//but i think the ambience is
kind of lost on the delinquents
that eat in here//

i always end up eating with
this black kid with one glass
eye who never talks to
anybody

which is fine with me cuz
then i can read and i dont
have to talk about video
games and smoking pot and
pussy

which gets really boring after
about five minutes but i look
up from my book theres
some kind of ruckus

going on up at the end of the
cafeteria line where we have
to -pay- for our meals with
these like credit cards that
they issue us

even though everythings paid
for by the state so its kind of
silly and useless but anyway

i look up and its richie and
hes really animated almost
yelling at the lunch lady who
just looks pissed off and
bored at the same time

she goes -if you dont pay
you dont get to eat- and
richie is like laughing almost
hysterical and says

-but i dont really pay anyway
and i still get to eat because
its all paid for already isnt it-
and she just scowls

and he goes -isnt it- and she
goes -if you dont pay you
dont get to eat- she doesnt
need this shit but he just
keeps going

about how payment requires
a transaction of money and
no money is moving its all
already fairviews anyway
they get it when we get here

and she goes -look kid they
tell me you gotta pay or you
dont eat and this is my job
and if i dont do my job

-my kids dont get to eat- and
richie waits a second and
goes -whatever- and pulls
out his meal credit card

swipes it walks away she
goes -thank you- trying to
sound snotty but really it just
comes out exhausted

and richie sees me and i drop
my eyes not sure if i want
him to come over or not but
he does

says -whats up- to glass eye
who doesnt respond and
richie just nods and sits down
and goes -whats up desmond
dekker-

and i cant help but smile and
go -nothing- and he says
-whatcha reading- and turns
my book towards him and

its just that thing were
reading for isaacs class and
he grunts and looks at me and
goes

-did you look up williams-
and i nod and go -yeah hes
cool i like the way he draws
women they look like tattoos-

and he goes -they look like
they have tattoos- like
questioningly and i go
-no- and repeat myself

and he says -oh- then -yeah
i guess they do- then -you
gotta speak up man i can
barely hear you sometimes-

and i go -sorry i guess i
mumble sometimes my
parents always said that- and
he looks at me frowning

-what the hell did you do to
get stuck in here- and i pause
a second then tell him about
when i brought the loaded
gun to school

and it was right after all that
stuff happened at salinas high
school and they totally
flipped out all over me

and richie asks why i brought
a loaded gun to school and if it
was like the salinas thing and
i tell him i just got tired

of balls hits in basketball
getting called faggot having
to use rough brown paper
towels to try and dry the spit
in my hair

and richie says -i thought
fairview was just for non-
violent crimes- and i tell him
it was non-violent

because i didnt shoot
anybody even though i really
wanted to and he just shrugs

i start feeling like i said way
too much and i just stop and
take a breath and ask him the
same thing

and he tilts his head and says
-stealing cars- and i ask him
why he was stealing cars and
he goes

-what a stupid question- and
i double take and go -thats
what you just asked me- and
he shrugs again says

-its a stupid question because
if you ever did it youd know
that driving a stolen car is the
best feeling in the whole
goddamned world-

and im just pissed by then
and im like -well i wouldnt
know cuz i never did it did i-
and he looks off and gets this
really weird look

like sad or something i never
saw on a kid especially a
prick like richie and he goes
-sorry- then

-ive got all these weird
chemicals running through
my body all the time and
sometimes its really hard

-not to be an asshole- and i
stop and go -oh do they
have you on meds too- and
he looks up surprised and
says -no-

then he figures something out
inside himself and goes -no
i just mean like the regular
natural teenage chemicals
going off all the time that
make us all

-you know totally insane-
and i laugh and i get it and he
kind of laughs and
remembers something

-oh yeah im not gonna call
you desmond dekker
anymore cuz thats way too
many syllables to say every
time i see you-

and im kind of relieved and
disappointed at the same time
then he says -im gonna call
you dee dee for short- and
im like -dee dee-

-yeah you know DD for
desmond dekker- and i just
shrug and smile and go -okay
richie okay whatever you
want- and he smiles and

slaps his hands on the
tabletop -it-is-decided- just
like that -ill have to take you
for a ride sometime show
you what its like-

and i go -yeah but isnt that
why you got put in here- and
he says -im only in here
because i wanna be-

i just laugh -thats what
everyone says- and he goes
-yeah but im the only one
who means it- and im all
-wooooo- and he smiles

gets up and backs slowly
away shaking his finger at me
-you will see dee dee you
will see- and he turns and
dashes off then lunch
uneaten gone again

RICHIE - CHAPTER TWO (Twitter Novel / Keitai Shosetsu)

gym class is like everything
else at fairview non-
competitive inclusive
student based

basically even though were
all a bunch of criminals its
supposed to be free and
freeing

compared to like fascist
barking cop-moustache gym
teacher jock heaven in
regular public school

so we can just run the track
or walk the track or lift
weights or throw a football if
we want to

theres even stalls for the
showers so we dont have to
suffer through uncomfortable
wang comparisons

its kind of wussy but it works
now i dont get balls hits
during basketball or
blitzkrieged in dodgeball

so im walking the track and
ive got the ipod on so i cant
hear anything and ive got
weights strapped on

nothing serious 10 pounds
each on ankles and wrists so
its kind of like im doing
something you know

and this kid passes me then
looks back then runs on then
looks back again and then
jogs in place until i catch up
to him pull out the earbuds

and its that richie kid and hes
wearing some super dorky
board shorts and doesnt look
nearly as cool as before

but he smiles and goes - hey -
and i say - hi - and i think
about my robert williams
shirt but im wearing my gym
one now

and his hair is really black
like almost dyed and pretty
greasy but that could just be
sweat from the running

- youre not in any of my other
classes except english with
isaacs howd that happen -

i kind of shrug and say - they
advanced me a year in
english cuz im good in it i
guess my other classes are
all tenth grade -

he looks ahead nods - good
enough - looks back at me
- im richie -

i automatically put my hand
out to shake but i totally drop
it when he doesnt - im
desmond -

richie smiles at me almost
excited for a second - like
desmond dekker the reggae
guy -

- i dont know who that is my
parents named me after that
beatles song ob la di ob la
da -

he just looks at me no
recognition at all like he
never even heard of the
beatles before

- you know - and i sing the line
- desmond and mol-ly jones -
and i feel like a pinhead the
second i sing it

and this richie kid looks at
me totally not blinking or
anything and asks me

- why does everything about
you turn out to be less cool
than it seems at first -

and i look away scowl shrug
open my hands i have no
idea how to even respond to
such a dickish thing and he
goes

- im gonna call you desmond
dekker because thats much
cooler - and he looks at me
like asking - okay -

i look back at him and just
kind of shake my head like
- whatever -

so he nods and runs off and
my first thought is - wow that
guy is an asshole -

and then my second thought
is - wow

- i never had a nickname
before -

RICHIE (Chapter One - Twitter Novel / Keitai Shosetsu Version)

the kid who was talking
before silent now
so i wrote what he said down

- adolescence is the furnace
in which the great themes of
our lives are forged -

which i think is kind of
brilliant his name is richie
mr isaacs looks at him

and i thought he was gonna
say something snide like he
does but he actually kind of
smiled

- interesting quote richie
who said that - kind of with
his lips pursed

- i did i mean i didnt say it i
wrote it down awhile ago
but its mine -

isaacs arches his eyebrows
says something about not
mixing the metaphors being
good but

goes on to question the
validity which i guess means
i like the way you said that
but i dont believe you

the richie kid folds his arms
leather jacket creaks which i
think is cool i want one

he asks why and mr isaacs
goes into song and dance
about experiences of a 15 or
16 year old boy

and 40 year old man he will
become being totally
different as he grows life
changes themes change

and if not then person ends
up being kind of retarded at
least emotionally richie puts his
hands palms down on table

goes - i dont mean everything
concerns beliefs stay the
same that would be crazy

- i mean stuff they care about
deep down most important
what makes them feel like
passion -

and a bunch of kids laugh at
- passion - because theyre all
super gay and damaged and
cant be mature about it

isaacs says he knows what
richie means and admires his
passion then looks around the
room and pinheads shut up

but then mr isaacs goes into
evolution of passion over
lifetime more reasonable
balanced modes of
expression

difference between an
arrested adolescent and
happy healthy adult and
richie sits back

goes - so you dont think truer
we stay to stuff we believe
now is more we fully stay
alive -

and isaacs laughs actually
laughs says - no not at all
this may be something that
can only be

learned by experience - and
the kid says under his breath
- maybe -

mr isaacs checks his watch
dramatically - thats as good a
place as any to stop chapters
4 and 5 for tomorrow -

//wave of groaning and
protest//

- look you little weasels stop
bitching or ill throw in
chapter 6 - immediate silence
- okay then -

then richie catches my eye as
im pulling on my pea coat
nods at me - nice shirt -

surprised i look down look
back up
- oh uh thanks -

-i didnt think anyone at this
school would know about
robert williams -

i pull up my pea coat - uh
whos robert williams - feel
immediately stupid

richie is taken aback - the guy
who drew the picture thats on
yr shirt dumbass -

i shrug downcast - i just got
it cuz ben from kill taker
wears one on their website -

richie whistles sadly through
his teeth - that band
suuuuuucks - pulls backpack
across shoulder

- do an image search on yr
shirt tonight and find out
about williams hes
awesome -

the kid swaggers out big
black boots thudding across
hardwood floor i say almost
inaudible

- sure -

RICHIE (Part One - Regular Version)

Desmond writes the line down in his notebook, scribbling quickly before he loses the wording:

Adolescence is the furnace in which the great themes of our lives are forged.

He looks back up at the kid who said it, silent now, then up to the head of the table where Mr. Isaacs purses his lips.

"Interesting quote, Richie. Who said that?"

"I did. I mean, I didn't say it, I wrote it down a while ago. But it is mine."

Mr. Isaacs arches his eyebrows. "Well, I'm certainly impressed that you didn't mix your metaphors, but I do have to question the validity of your statement."

The kid, Richie, folds his arms, leather jacket creaking. "Why?"

"Well, to begin with, the experiences of a sixteen-year-old boy and the thirty or forty-year-old man he will become are, by definition, vastly different. The great themes of a man or woman's life change as the circumstances of that person's life change: who they love, if they marry, if they have children, what they do for a living...where they choose to live." Isaacs pauses. "The great themes of a person's life have to change after adolescence or that person will end up - again, by definition - completely mired in the past."

Richie leans forward, places his hands palms-down on the table. "I don't mean that, like, all of their concerns or beliefs stay the same - you're right, that would be crazy. I mean the stuff they deep-down care about, what's most important to them - what they think is right, what they think is totally fucked, what makes them feel, you know, passion."

A couple of chuckles around the table at the word "passion". Richie scowls, gestures to Mr. Isaacs. "You know what I mean."

"Yes, Richie, I do. And I admire your passion." He casts a glance around the table at the other boys in his class, who now remain silent. "But I think that the evolution of those passions over the course of a life into...more reasonable modes of expression...is what separates an adult from an arrested adolescent."

Richie sits back. "So you don't think that...the truer we stay to the stuff we believe now at sixteen, or fifteen, or whatever is...the more we stay fully alive?"

A smile slowly breaks across Mr. Isaacs' face. "No. Not at all. This may be," he tilts his head, "something that...can only be learned by experience."

Richie, under his breath: "Maybe."

Mr. Isaacs checks his watch. "And that's probably as good a place as any to stop. Chapters four and five for tomorrow, gentlemen." A wave of groaning protest engulfs the table. Mr. Isaacs' previous calm, easygoing demeanor immediately disappears. "Look, you little weasels, stop bitching or I'll throw in chapter six!" Silence follows. "Okay, then."

As they pack up their books, Richie casts a glance over at Desmond pulling on his pea coat. "Nice shirt."

Desmond looks up at Richie, surprised, then down at this shirt, then back at Richie. "Oh, uh, thanks."

"I didn't think anyone at this school would know about Robert Williams."

Desmond finishes putting his pea coat on. "Um, who's Robert Williams?"

Richie looks at him, taken aback. "The guy who drew the picture that's on your shirt, dumb-ass."

Desmond shrugs, drops his gaze. "I just got it 'cause Ben from Kill Taker wears one on their website."

Richie whistles sadly through his teeth. "That band sucks." He pulls his backpack over one shoulder. "Do an image search on your shirt tonight and find out about Williams. He's awesome." Richie swaggers out, big black boots thudding across the hardwood floor as Desmond quietly murmurs to himself, "Sure."

HEAVY INTO JEFF

The girl was heavy into Jeff; she knew it, we knew it. Much beers later, you had half a mind to tell the kid because he obviously wasn't gonna get it on his own. Snakeland was good for beers and bong hits - no one ever there except homeless dudes. And snakes. The part by the water you could huck the bottles in; dig the splash, then the echo of the splash. The empty grain elevators were a wall between us and the cops, all floor holes and broken glass. Pretty sweet. The girl was totally listening to Jeff and all his World of Warcraft bullshit which he never would've been talking about to a girl unless he was totally high. Which he was, but that's still no excuse to be blabbering that geek noise to some piece of ass that followed us to Snakeland. So we all give Jeff the eye and the nod and he finally gets it and he's like you wanna go down by the water? and she's like yeah, sure and they grab a couple of beers and they go and we laugh a little and they laugh a little. And then Tony's all Let's build a fire! and Dez is all No, let's just cut out the middleman and actually tell the cops where we are, and then it's Fuck You but bong hits later no problem.

Jeff or the girl whips a bottle in the water but it must've been a big one because the echo is even bigger than the splash, or at least it sounds that way. From where we are. The girl walks up, hours later maybe, feels that way, wiping her mouth says Jeff fell asleep. Dez waits until she leaves, looks at us, goes Is that a good sign or a bad sign? And Tony goes Who cares, where did they get wine? Dez is like The fuck you talking about? And Tony says Her mouth was all red, dude. Her lips were all red.

1988 (EDIT FROM "VINYL")

It was as if the fever dreams of a thousand lonely hardcore bands actually came true. Ronald Reagan, fangs elongated and dripping green poison, hunched over the big, fat, round, red, candy-like Button with his crooked finger poised to press, cowboy hat perched on his slick black Bob’s Big Boy quiff, a crucified Christ in miniature bouncing on his right shoulder like some over-eager younger brother on a pogo stick. Too perfect to actually exist, this was the collective image that reflected back at us from the t-shirts and album covers of a terrified and neutered nation.

Except that it did exist, but only for a moment before it was swept away by the plutonium wind. “I’ve just outlawed Russia forever,” he giggled, his fawning Yes men laughing along, Nancy poised just behind with her elongated fingers brushing his collar. “We begin bombing in f-f-five m-m-m-m-m-minutes” he stuttered out like a Sigue Sigue Sputnik remix and then he pushed it down, he pushed it down and it made a tiny squeaking sound like the horn on a Fisher Price plastic car. Oddly enough, the Button was also made by Fisher Price, but unfortunately their steadfast attention to detail in this case meant that the Button actually worked, and soon the missiles filled the sky.

MAD, or Mutually Assured Destruction (as every schoolchild was taught in 1988), was supposed to be the ultimate deterrent to nuclear Armageddon as any sane individual would be thought to refrain from pushing a Button that would be summarily pressed in kind by his Russki counterpart after death began to rain down from above. But Ronald Reagan, he pushed it down; and them in Moscow, they pushed it down; and you, you can fuckin’ fill in the rest.

Baby make boom boom. Ha ha.