professionalism #17

• time: where the past and the future collide
  
  
• place: parts unknown
  
  
• at rise: it is morning dark in the grease-gray hallways of [deleted]. our hero, Johnny St. Clair, is asleep in a chair made of the finest Corinthian leather. his dusty boots sit on the corner of an oak desk and empty wine bottles litter the floor.
  
  shrieks, screams, and the crash of shattered glass sound from within. presently, The Doktor enters stage left, diving behind a fake Chinese rubber plant. the spin and click of a lighter is heard, and wisps of smoke curl from behind the plant.
  
  
  

THE DOKTOR: [still crouching behind the plant, hissing] ST. CLAIR!!!

JOHNNY ST. CLAIR: ...hmmm?

DOK: ST. CLAIR!!! OVER HERE!!!

JSC: hmmmm? what do you want from me?

DOK: come here.

JSC: hmmmm? what time is it?

DOK: come on…over here…the plant…

JSC: shit. uhhh…who is that?

DOK: it’s me…

JSC: look, uh, really sorry about pissin’ on you from time to time. i, uh, can’t always make it, uh…weak prostrate.

DOK: [screaming] WILL YOU JUST COME OVER HERE FOR ONE…

JSC: oh…ok…well that’s all you really had to say.

DOK: i got a problem.

JSC: oh no shit.

ANONYMOUS OFFICE MALE#1: hey Johnny.

JSC: hey…You. just talkin’ to the plant here.

DOK: don’t draw unnecessary attention, you asshole.

JSC: right.

DOK: listen to me…i’ve got a problem.

JSC: i believe we’ve established that.

DOK: yeah, listen…

JSC: i am.

DOK: you are what?

JSC: i am…i am listening. now, please, time is of the essence.

DOK: WILL YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

ANONYMOUS OFFICE MALE#2: who said that?

JSC: the Doktor.

ANONYMOUS OFFICE MALE#2: the Doktor?

JSC: yeah…he’s…[the Doktor swings from behind the plant, cutting Johnny off in mid-sentence and narrowly missing his pants grapes] WHOA!!!

DOK: what did i say? hmmmm? WHAT DID I SAY?

JSC: alright, fuck…what’s your problem?

DOK: ok…i think…

JSC: i mean, besides the fact that you’re crouching behind a plant, fuckin’ smokin’ up a storm here in a NON-SMOKING AREA, and, you know, swingin’ for my balls and shit. i mean, what the fuck dude…

DOK: come on. concentrate. ok?

JSC: …

DOK: ok?

JSC: alright.

DOK: i think…i think…i think i might have crabs.

JSC: you think?

DOK: yes.

JSC: come on, man, there’s no thinkin’ about it. either you do or you don’t.

ANONYMOUS OFFICE FEMALE#1: hi Johnny.

JSC: mmmmm…good evening.

ANONYMOUS OFFICE FEMALE#1: who are you talking to?

JSC: hmmmm? oh…the Doktor. he has crabs and i’m just trying to…[the Doktor again swings from behind the plant, cutting Johnny off in mid-sentence, as Johnny jumps back just out of reach] you ain’t pullin’ THAT shit again!!! Ha HA…hey…where did she…

DOK: I’VE GOT CRABS YOU INSENSITIVE PIGFUCKER!!!

JSC: alright…calm down, calm down, no need to be broadcasting that shit yet.

ANONYMOUS OFFICE FEMALE#2: hi Johnny. hi Dok.

JSC, DOK: [in unison] hello.

JSC: dude…why are you still behind that plant?

DOK: it’s easier to scratch unnoticed.

JSC: yuck.

DOK: FOCUS!!! what am i supposed to do?

JSC: two options, well three, really…but i don’t think you’ll dig the third.

DOK: lay it on me. [Johnny peers awkwardly at the rubber plant] no homo.

JSC: ok…one, you shave off all your hair and rinse with gasoline or kerosene or some shit. and i mean all of it. you gotta shave your balls, your dick, shave the happy trail. i mean, you even gotta check your chest hair, eyebrows, your fuckin’ moustache…all of it.

DOK: shave your dick?

JSC: yeah man.

DOK: you got hair on your dick?

JSC: a couple strands down by the base of the shaft…

DOK: ewwwww

JSC: motherfucker, YOU’RE the one who got creepy crawlers crawlin’ on your nutsack. so don’t ‘ewwwww’ me…now, another thing you can do, is go to a drug store…

DOK: …get some crack…

JSC: …go to a drug store, get some Kwell or something…

DOK: …it’s called crack [the plant starts shaking. presumably, the Doktor is scratching his neck].

JSC: [viciously kicks the plant] get some of that shampoo…wash your balls, boil your sheets, your draws, everything.

DOK: [whimpers]

JSC: AND you gotta use that little afro-pick to comb all the eggs outta your hair.

DOK: what?

JSC: yeah man, they lay eggs in there. you gotta get everything outta there…do that shit!

DOK: what’s the third option?

JSC: keep ‘em.

DOK: keep ‘em?

JSC: yeah man…train them little bastards…like a flea circus…have them liftin’ weights and ridin’ bicycles across tightropes and shit.

ANONYMOUS OFFICE MALE#3: what’s up Johnny. [looks at the rubber plant] Dok…sucks about the crabs.

DOK: SEE WHAT YOU’VE DONE!!!

JSC: yo don’t blame that shit on me…it’s itchy aint it?

DOK: …yes…

JSC: itches like a motherfucker, don’t it?

DOK: …yes…

JSC: [shaking the plant violently] well that’s what you get, ya nasty motherfucker.

DOK: cut it out…ugh…i need some relief.

JSC: you should be glad you didn’t get burnt. now, i’ve given you the remedy, my son. be gone. go forth. heal thyself [the plant begins to shuffle towards the door – smoke still curling around its leaves, whimpers still emanating from its core – when Sgt. Kickass, company commander, enters].

KICKASS: ST.CLAIR!!!

JSC: GodDAMMIT…you almost made me crap my pants.

KICKASS: WHERE’S JOHNSON?

JSC: who?

KICKASS: DON’T GIVE ME THAT CRAP!!! YOU KNOW WHO THE FUCK I’M TALKING ABOUT, BOY!!! THAT FAIRY-ASS FRIEND OF YOURS!!!

JSC: oh…the Doktor…right, right. yeah…he ain’t here right now.

KICKASS: HE AIN’T HERE??? HE AIN’T HERE?!? WELL LISTEN, YOU TELL HIM NOT TO TOUCH A GODDAMM THING IN THIS BUILDING UNTIL HE’S TAKEN CARE OF HIS HYGENE PROBLEM!!! [slams door open, slams door closed, then leaves]

JSC: you hear that? you don’t touch a single thing around here. by my estimations, that means all the work you got piled up on your desk. you owe me.

DOK: but…but…who’ll do my job?

JSC: motherfucker…YOU don’t even do your job.

DOK: you’re right…man…this itches.

ANONYMOUS OFFICE FEMALE#3: you two are disgusting.

DOK: you think she likes me?

JSC: totally. i’m hungry. let’s get a taco.

DOK: can i keep the plant?

JSC: of course. it ain’t mine.

adios, muchacho!!!

something tells me that's not gonna be good for business

...shit...

that's not gonna be good for anybody

with gratitude to college humor

cabman #7

waiting on a rider up on top of the hill, i had something like a revelation. it could’ve been that black hole that passed through my body, spinning slow at thirty-three and a third and soft as angel’s hair and cricket bows.

i saw a star create its shine and burn for a hundred million years, all the while
its light fluttering in our atmosphere like waves from fingers until it blew up red like an angry fist.

but i split it open, pried its fingers apart and dove straight down to the core, pulled inward by the gravity of all that makes a sun, where inside it burned a billion degrees, and moving
was swimming
in black vaseline

shifting from three to four
from space towards time
a joyride in a stolen car

in a moment unusual and natural, the giant furiously fell in upon itself, folded like you’d unfold a paper diamond, slaked its rage then broke out
like the fourth of July.

what was left were a billion world’s worth of ashes packed into a singular silver spoon

like into a bullet
like into a lock
like into a key

and everything was still rushing in, pouring though, coming to see. just the same all light all energy was trying to break out of that core - that lock that key - in infinite perpetual explosions, stifled by the funnel of all-light all-energy arriving anew.

and just beyond the horizon
where these rivers run and meet
they bottleneck and pause for only just a moment until the maelstrom spirals it all elsewhere

beyond light
beyond universe
through the now

and i
stretch top to bottom
like piano string
like angel’s hair
like cricket bows
and move through the lock
the key
to a new place
into the other
skating on time through space as easily as on a windowpane
.

jawbreaker

damm...brings back sweet November cold mornings walking when i could taste the rain.

jawbreaker has always been one of the best.

this song is the last one they recorded before blake's throat surgery, and you can really hear the toll that had been taken on his voice.

of the song, they say it's "inspired by a liquor store down on Mission where the junkies would buy five-cent candies with dollar food stamps and use the change for their darker pursuits. A kind of tacit, don't-look-don't-tell agreement between the avuncular Eastern proprietors and their lean, bread-and-butter clientele. Plus, I was down there a lot with my girlfriend, then she wasn't my girlfriend anymore, so that became part of the story."

i was always into their words, and these are some of my faves. dig:

It gets loneliest at night
Down at the liquor store
Beneath the neon sky
Our moonlight
Six A.M., the floor comes alive with lice
The pan's dried up so tight
With hardened beans
We're hungry
So I lean on you sometimes
Just to see
You're still there
Your feet can't take the weight of one
Much less two
We hit concrete

How were we born into this mess?
I know I painted you a prettier picture, baby
But we were run out on a rail
Fell from the wagon to the night train

Cigarettes they fill the gaps
In our empty days
In our broken teeth
We're jonesing
Say mister, can you spare a dime?
Some change could make a change
Could buy some time
Some freedom
Or an ear to hear my story
It's all I've got
My fiction
Beats the hell out of my truth
A palm upturned burnt blue
Don't call it sunburn

You've been shaking on the job
Just one drink ahead of your past
There's a white light coming up
You draw the blinds hoping it'll pass

I kissed the bottle
I should've been kissing you
You wake up to an empty night
With tears for two

listen: jawbreaker - kiss the bottle
buy: jawbreaker records

breaks co-op

where do you turn
when you look beyond your own world
when you wonder have I seen it all

listen: breaks co-op - wonder
buy: breaks co-op records

johnny goes to hollywood

picture wet black asphalt steam under yellow street lights across green grass strips between pavements. palm trees.

one car, parking lot.

strip bar.

“DRIVE!!!” the Doktor bellowed, “i know a place where the girls are cheaper.”

“no.”

“WHY THE HELL NOT?”

“we’re waiting.”

“WELL WHAT THE FUCK FOR?”

“will you stop yelling?”

“WHAT THE FUCK FOR?”

“…” the Doktor closed his eyes as he took a drink from his cup. i pushed the cigarette lighter in.

“man, i love me some bitches,” the Doktor leaned out an open window, “YOU HEAR THAT BITCHES? I LOVE YOU, BITCHES!!! HA HA!!! I LOVE YOUR TIT-TAYS, BITCHES!!!”

“…please…”

“I LOVE YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUCH…WHAT THE FUCK?”

“i’ll burn your retarded ass again if you don’t shut…”

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTHAT FUCKIN’ HUROOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”

“i warned you.”

“ok ok…fuck…why aren’t we moving?”

“we’re waiting. i told you.”

“you don’t seem like you’re having much fun tonight.”

“i am.”

“you’re not. the whole time we’re in there, you’re looking somewhere else.”

“that’s not true.”

“you’re acting like half-a-fag.”

“i’ve got shit to do.”

“well do it then, motherfucker.”

“i am. like i said, we’re waiting.”

“waiting on what?”

“the pick-up.”

“the pick-up?”

“yes.”

“what are we picking up?”

“nothing. we’re dropping something off.”

“what?”

“i can’t show you. it’s Preemo’s shit.”

“Preemo? i hate that motherfucker. hate that motherfucker, but I LOVE ME SOME TIT-TAYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOFUCK.”

as the Doktor leaned out of the window again, i took an unblocked shot at his left kidney. “i hope you piss blood for a week.”

“[whimper]”

“now…can't you just sit still for 10 minutes? when the pick-up truck pulls in, we wait until he goes inside. then, if everything looks clear, we get in the truck, call Preemo, and pull out.”

“what is this, some gangster shit?”

“no…it’s just a favor. now please, before we arouse suspicion. you wanna hit this?”

“never touch the stuff. you got any coke?”

“…”

“it’s just as well. i’ll tell you this, though. Preemo sure has some nice taste in rides.”

“yeah, it’s nice, isn’t it. he had the interior all re-done, new sound system, pop-out DVD in the dash.”

“word?”

“word.”

“well…let’s see what it’s like.”

true story, the Doktor pulls out a porno DVD from an inside coat pocket, and puts it in the player. Jenna Loves Brittany, or something like that. he puts on what he refers to as a “money track,” and proceeds to turn the sound system up to ear-bleeding country.

“those girls look really friendly.”

“YEAH!!”

“i bet she’s nice.”

“YEAH!!!”

“godDAMM!!!”

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH!!! YOU KNOW, YOU WERE BEGINNIN’ TO WORRY ME, ST. CLAIR.”

whoop, whoop, red and blue.

“shut it off.”

“SHUT IT OFF? WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU, YOU SOME KINDA FA-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.” i got a good shot in that time. with any luck, he’ll be pissin’ blood for a month.

“just be cool.”

“be cool” the Doktor said rather incredulously, “be cool? motherfucker, i invented cool. you just let me handle this.”

“you just keep your mouth shut and don’t say…good evening, Officer.”

“license and registration.” it was the middle of the night, and this clown had on his mirror shades. Tread lightly, i thought, this could get ugly. i handed him my papers.

“you using your friend’s car?”

“yes.”

“I DON’T KNOW THIS MOTHERFUCKER, OFFICER,” the Doktor yelled from the passenger side.

“wait here,” he said and then disappeared from view until i could get him again in the side mirror and then the rearview. he must’ve called into Dispatch, and ran the plates from the car. he never took his eyes off of us.

“will you please reign in your drunk for a minute. get your fuckin’ head right.”

“listen, Johnny, i’ll handle this. you’re not yourself tonight.”

“not myself? not my fuckin’ self? do you have any idea what’s in this car?”

“no.”

“do you have any idea what Preemo will do to you if this gets fucked up.”

“what’s Preemo gonna do to you?”

“what?”

“no. what’s he fuckin’ gonna do to you? he can’t just fuck me up. YOU work for him. not me. i’m just an innocent bystander. wrong place, you know…”

“man. Preemo’s gonna shit. he’s gonna kill us.”

“make up your mind, dude. is he gonna shit or is he gonna kill us?”

“here he comes.” i tried my best to smile, seem contrite, “Officer. i know why you…”

“oh you do, do you?”

“I’VE NEVER SEEN THIS HOOLIGAN BEFORE IN MY LIFE,” the Doktor would not be hushed. i should’ve fuckin’ poisoned him when i had the chance.

“you boys have any guns in the car?”

“naw, ossifer,” said the Doktor, “they’re at home with the guns.”

“he’s a bit intoxicated,” i offered.

“oh no shit,” the Officer replied.

“yeah. it’s his birthday. thought i’d take him to the gentleman’s club. you know, see the sights. he doesn’t get out too often.”

“shut the fuck up, Johnny man. Officer, listen to me,” the Doktor began. “you wanna know why…”

“i swear to Christ,” i said.

“i’d love to,” the Officer said, “what are you two doing playing porno at 120 decibels in the middle of the…”

“…i’ll tell you why,” the Doktor continued. “i’ll tell you. listen, ol’ Johnny Hotcakes here, it’s his first time.”

“first time?”

“first time for what,” the Officer said.

“it’s his first time being out in the open. you know. it’s his first date. it’s OUR first date.”

“first date? what the fuck are you…”

“calm down, Johnny. it’s ok. he understands, don’t you Officer?”

“…”

“it’s our first date. isn’t that right, snookums?”

“don’t touch me.”

“don’t be like that. tell him not to be like that, Officer. there’s nothing to be ashamed of, is there? just two young lovers, out underneath the stars.”

“i’m not gay, sir. my friend, uh…i know how this looks…” i said.

“boy, you have no idea. then again, maybe you do. i got a good mind to lock you two up for…”

“lock me up, youknowwhati’msayin? HA HA. take me to jail. WOOOOOOO!!! Officer, we’re truly sorry, we didn’t mean no harm, did we Johnny.”

“i’m not gay.”

“don’t be like that. it’s hurtful.”

“i don’t give a fuck,” i said.

“but it is. tell him not to say that, Officer.”

“…”

“fuck you.”

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! now you’re talking.”

“look here, you two. i’m coming back around the block in twenty minutes. if you’re not outta here…”

“i appreciate the understanding, Officer.”

“now you two lovebirds just be on your way.”

“but Officer,” i said, “i’m not gay.”

“sure you’re not.”

“do i look gay?”

“…hey, look, whatever. there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Johnny, hotcakes, the nice Officer is telling us to go,” the Doktor said. “don’t you get it? we can go back to my place, and…”

“i mean, Officer…do we…him…i mean, out of the two of us…if you had to pick,”

“i been listenin’ to you boys for about five minutes now, and i’m convinced that it’s been the gayest shit i’ve ever heard.”

“yeah, but, if you had to pick…” i said.

“if i had to pick what?”

“if you had to pick one of us for being gay…” i said.

“well, holy shit, son,” he said, a smile spreading wide over his teeth, “you look queerer than a three dollar bill.”

it was at that point that both the Officer, clearly impressed with his clever little simile, and that pigfuck Doktor both burst into laughter. they even shook hands through the open window. he left with a nudge and a wink, walking back to his cruiser and shaking his head.

“i can’t believe you did that. we could’ve been arrested. we could’ve been killed,” i said.

“just shut up, you gay motherfucker.”

“what?”

“you heard what The Man said. You’re the gay one.”

tv on the radio

now that we got gone for good
writhing under your riding hood
tell your grandma and your momma too

it's true

we're howling forever

but God i like it

listen: tv on the radio - wolf like me
buy: tv on the radio records

G.G. Allin

there is a certain litmus test i've found to be rather effective in my years on this planet. when meeting people for the first time, if the conversation turns to music, mention G.G. Allin. if they are unaware or react with revulsion, do not give up hope. in all likelihood, they are fine people.

but for some, this is the moment when you will truly know if they are brothers and sisters.

i remember reading about him in a FLIPSIDE magazine a long time ago. and then i got the music. and then i heard the stories. now i don't know how much of those stories was true...it was just what i heard. but i was for goddamm sure i wasn't going anywhere near that motherfucker.

i got to meet his brother and talk with him at an Antiseen show. nice guy, that Merle. but i'll save that for another time.

Mark Prindle - critic, genius, connoisseur - hits the broken bottle into G.G.'s forehead in a review of Raw, Brutal, Rough & Bloody - Best of 1991 Live DVD. To wit:

THIS is the one to save for future generations when they ask to see footage of former U.S. president George W. Bush. As the camera begins, GG is naked to the gills, standing on a stage surrounded on all sides by "hipsters" out to see the freak show, presumably assuming that they are "cool" enough to detachedly snicker at GG's belligerence without incident. GG responds as follows (in chronological order): (a) trying to trade his beer tickets to an audience member for a blow job, (b) grabbing two women by the hair and trying to forcefully drag them onto the stage, (c) bending over, spreading his legs and letting loose a stream of diarrhea onto the stage, (d) scooping the waste into his hand and flinging it all over the audience members on all sides of him, (e) rubbing diarrhea all over his torso and penis, (f) getting on his hands and knees and licking up the diarrhea, (g) bashing the microphone into his head over and over until he is completely covered in blood, (h) complaining about the malfunctioning microphone and casually urinating on the side of the stage, (i) catching urine in his hand and slapping it up into his waiting mouth, (j) spitting a blast of urine into the audience, (k) looking around and exclaiming, "Hey! Where did everybody go?", (l) beginning his first song.

oh man...i'm feeling dirty already. let's wrap this up, shall we?

listen: G.G. Allin - fuck women i've never had [a Hank Jr. "cover"]
buy: G.G. Allin stuff