The Weekly Wake Up Call

I work for this risk management firm sometimes, and I like to annoy this one guy I work for with his opinion on LUST, just to make sure the chances of it all being a cult are as low as I think. He gets annoyed easily. Think of him as a constipated Danny DeVito.

I guess I’m Samuel L. Jackson from DO THE RIGHT THING.
Wake up! Wake up Wake upWake upWake upWake upWake upWake upWake upWake upWake up!
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Danny: Before we get into this, just tell me again why.
Me: I enjoy taking risks.
Danny: You’re out of your fucking mind, you know that?
Me: Not totally because I’m asking about managing this risk.
Danny: Most fucks like us, we don’t join cults. We divorce our wives and buy a motorcycle.
Me: I already divorced my wife.
Danny: And?
Me: I never learned to ride a bike.
Danny: Are you fucking with me? Are you fucking with me? Are you done fucking with me?
Me: Sorry.
Danny: Okay, first, you need an enema.
Me: Um…
Danny: Psychic. Psychic enema…what I wanna know is…what I don’t get…what’s your hard-on for the Brit?
Me: You know why the chicken crossed the road? Because the road crossed the chicken.
Danny: So now you have an enemy. Why?
Me: Because I have to have an enemy.
Danny: Why?
Me: Because he said so.
Danny: Who?
Me: You don’t like it when I say.
Danny: Oh, fuck a goddamned duck…
Me: My analyst—
Danny: Yeah, I got it.
Me: He says…the guy says…I need to have an enemy. It’s a complex. I gotta push off the complex.
Danny: So what’s the play?
Me: There’s this whale, see…
Danny: A what?
Me: A whale. This whale, he’s a big fucking whale, blue whale, sperm whale, whatever. And this whale, see, there’s this sucker fish attached to him, right? A sucker fish attached to the whale’s anus.
Danny: So?
Me: I’m the whale. He’s the sucker fish. That’s how I push it off, see? Done.
Danny: Okay. Enema done. So let’s get to it. The questions. You’re asking the right ones.
Me: About BoS?
Danny: About them. Yes. The questions.
Me: Why leave everyone behind? Why be so opaque about revealing information? Why reveal the NDA without context? Why use a fake ARG as cover for BoS? Why create puzzles and ciphers instead of just telling us outright?
Danny: And the answers –
Me: There aren’t any!
Danny: Yes. See? Do you see? No answers. Or bullshit answers. Do you know what no answer is?
Me: No answer is—
Danny: An answer. Do you see? Do you see? No answer IS the answer. You know this. You know this. You see this every day.
Me: “No comment”.
Danny: Is a comment. It means you’ve got the fuckers. It means you are fucking right. Same with “I cannot confirm or deny”. Bullshit, you just confirmed and denied. Both. Or either. You know this. Do you see?
Me: Because, really, REALLY, what has BoS actually done?
Danny: Old Mother Hubbard.
Me: Old Mother Hubbard.
Danny: The cupboard was bare.
Me: BoS has done nothing. Except talk.
Danny: Talk, Lawrence, talk is cheap. And the question. The biggest question.
Me: What does Morgan lust after?
Danny: Answer?
Me: Nothing that anyone will say.
Danny: Because if they say it, it’s true.
Me: And if it’s true…
Danny: Who the fuck are they following? Right. So answer for them. What does he lust after?
Me: Morgan lusts after power.
Danny: And what of power?
Me: It corrupts.
Danny: Always and forever. But why?
Me: The chicks dig it.
Danny: Are you fucking with me? Are you fucking with me? Are you done fucking with me?
Me: I don’t know why.
Danny: There’s this study, right? Big important study. Canadian, right? Big important Canadian study. And you know Canadians. Nicest fucking pussies on the planet. I adore them. And these Canadians, right? They study these 275 cocksuckers in some study about power. And you know what they find? You know what they find? They find that power doesn’t corrupt so much as heighten pre-existing tendencies.
Me: Don’t make me say it.
Danny: Say it, because for once you’re right.
Me: Morgan’s Shadow.
Danny: They fucking hate it when you say that. So say it all the fucking time, right? Say it until their fucking ears bleed and they want to crucify you next to their snake baby demon God or whatever.
Me: His Shadow hungers for –
Danny: Power. He lusts after power. And what happened? They gave it to him. So he’s happy. And what’s happened? Look at him.
Me: Heightened pre-existing tendencies.
Danny: Honest Abe.
Me: Honest…how’s that?
Danny: “If you want to test a man’s character, give him power.”
Me: …Damn…
Danny: What does the man in power do? He’s desperate to hold onto it. He’ll do whatever it takes. EVERYONE and EVERYTHING in his vicinity is a tool to be used to keep himself in power. Which means….
Me: Don’t trust a goddamned word he says.
Danny: And why would you?
Me: Or @a.
Danny: Or @Fucking A. And you know why, right? You know?
Me: The fucker SAID not to trust him. It’s that phrase, that legal phrase…
Danny: Fruit of the poisonous tree.
Me; Fruit of the fucking poisonous tree. The moment s/he says “don’t trust me”, you walk. Of course you walk. S/He’s fucking telling us—
Danny: It’s the Burning Fucking Bush—
Me: S/He’s TELLING us do not trust him. That sob story she gave? And I’ve got Christ’s Grail to sell you. I mean, what do they think is gonna happen? I know these people watch Game of Thrones. They know. Of course @A = Morgan. It’s a gimme. It’s like giving teamsters a crate of doughnuts. But still, they listen even though–
Danny: Old Mother Hubbard.
Me: Old Mother Hubbard.
Danny: She went to the fucking cupboard. And left all the victims behind.
Me: And sowed division. And bullied. And…holy shit…
Danny: Oh, you found the gold.
Me: He pulled a…shit…it was right there and she—
Danny: The Wildcat.
Me: Arizona. The gal from Arizona. She wrote what he said. He said, “I’m going to do something fucking crazy. Something stupid. I’m going to do it because you don’t trust me.”
Danny: That is the line of a con man. A con man does not ask you to put your confidence in him, no, he puts his confidence in you. That’s what the man in power does. Collects followers. Doesn’t matter how.
Me: She’s smarter than that. She knows. But to the larger point…the power…Morgan…he doesn’t matter. He serves another purpose. A narrative purpose.
Danny: There are two things I know to be true. 1) There’s no difference between good flan and bad flan, and 2) BoS IS OSDM.
Me: Fuck me.
Danny: I know plenty who want to, and not in a good way.
Me: Morgan gets what he wants. OSDM gets someone who keeps people riled up. Any emotion is a good emotion. Any emotion is data.
Danny: Keep going.
Me: Give me a hint.
Danny: Wag the Dog.
Me: How’s that?
Danny: There is no war. There is only the appearance of a war.
Me: Fuck me!
Danny: I know plenty who —
Me: If BoS = OSDM, then there is no enemy to “burn down”.
Danny: There was never anything to “burn down”. BoS wants to “burn down” OSDM HQ? They know where it is. Why haven’t they? Because it either isn’t OSDM HQ, and BoS know this which goes back to BoS being a fraud, or it is OSDM HQ and they still haven’t done anything, which makes BoS a fraud.
Me: BoS = OSDM.
Danny: You can’t burn down OSDM. OSDM is (redacted). OSDM is a (redacted).
Me: A complete fucking fraud, and it looks a hundred percent real! This is the best work they’ve ever done because it’s so honest!
Danny: I bet you’re great at chess.
Me: I would if I could remember how all the pieces moved. So I am in way deeper than I realized.
Danny: Cute, huh?
Me: Cute as a pail full of kittens.
Danny: You want to manage risk? If I’m OSDM, there is no fucking risk with BoS. Who’s gonna walk? Right? Do you see? Who’s gonna walk? Who’s gonna drop a Roosevelt dime on him? And if they kill him or disappear him, there’s still no risk. More anger. Then it’s “Avenge Morgan”. Then BoS does have a reason to exist. They win either way. No risk. Do you see?
Me: Okay. What about the call?
Danny: From the guy? The call from that guy? Nobody is coming to save you?
Me: Noah Sinclair.
Danny: Noah Fucking Sinclair with The Hair. You have to ask “why?’ Always ask why. Why call? Why now? Why her?
Me: Cristen? She’s observant. Thoughtful. Careful.
Danny: Why now?
Me: Division?
Danny: The opposite. The herd.
Me: She’s right on the edge. A free thinker.
Danny: And who saw this and acted?
Me: Noah Fucking Sinclar.
Danny: Now…where’s the gold?
Me: The subtext of the call.
Danny: You gots the gold.
Me: The subtext of the call. Think for yourself. Don’t just win, change the game. Learn to stop wishing and how to start taking.
Danny: There are no rules except the ones you write every day. The ones. YOU. Write.
Me: Ronin.
Danny: I don’t fucking give a fuck what you call it. But the call. The call came for a reason.
Me: He’s watching.
Danny: When it’s cooking, it’s cooking.
Me: He’s watching to see who’s with the herd and who isn’t.
Danny: You gots the gold. You got it. But I got fucking emeralds for you now, baby. Think about that Freemason-Hebrew-Egyptian-what’s-hidden-in-the-parchment-alchemy-cast-a-level-5-invisibility-spell nonsense. Right? The Hebrew part. What odds you giving that Sinclair’s got some Hebrew in him?
Me: It’s a lock.
Danny: 13 tribes in ancient times. Highest among them, the Kohanim, the priests, right? Then the Levites, descendants of the tribe of Levi, musicians, gatekeepers, and finally the proles, the Israelites. The other tribes. You see? Do you see?
Me: Sinclair is Kohanim. He’s watching. He’s waiting. For the Levites. His guards. His gatekeepers.
Danny: The Levites, did you know? Did you know, the Levites are CALLED. Literally. Called second to the Kohanim to read from the Torah. Place of honor. Washes the hands of the Kohanim before he delivers the blessing.
Me: My name…family name. It isn’t Meyers. It’s Levine.
Danny: Derived from Levite. Of course you aren’t BoS. You’re a goddamned fucking musician. You watch now. You watch whom he contacts. The Levites get the call.
Me: Not the others.
Danny: Now, what about the girl?
Me: Which girl?
Danny: The girl. The one…the one with…Chocolate. Watches. What’s the place?
Me: Switzerland.
Danny: Switzerland. The Swiss girl.
Me: I can’t see her play yet. She’s crafty.
Danny: Of course. She’s Swiss.
Me: How do you figure?
Danny: These are the people who invented those fucking cuckoo clocks where the two cocksuckers come out every hour and beat each other over the head and then go back where they came from. How fucked up is that? Swiss. You keep an eye on her.
Me: I am.
Danny: And what about your girl?
Me: Which girl?
Danny: Jesus H. Christ on the cross. The centerfold in Old Crone Monthly. You dumb fuck. The girl. The one you cream your pants over every time you mention her.
Me: Which girl?
Danny: I do not have infinite patience, Lawrence.
Me: She’s safe. Far as I know.
Danny: So what’s your play?
Me: You know my play.
Danny: Stay in the shadows.
Me: Not now. No. Everybody’s looking in the shadows.
Danny: So where’s the place to be?
Me: The place to be is in the sun. That way, I see everything.
Danny: You’re one white pale motherfucker. You sunburn easy.
Me: Brother, I am so cool, I can talk my way out of a sunburn.
Danny: You may need to. And no, we will not give you a fucking drone. So do not ask me.

• This topic was modified 6 years, 9 months ago by Lawrence Meyers.
• This topic was modified 6 years, 9 months ago by Lawrence Meyers.