Tuesday, 30 October 2007

Universal Spirit: A Repeatedly Mistranslated Prolegomenon

The eavesdropper relays sounds of joy. "They seem like good friends", thinks Schoner Gotterfunken, the hermaphrodite surveillance engineer, the happy wiretapper of Elysium as he/she is known in the trade. "Unlikely to be an argile or the tones of a lump of Ostclay struck with an ancilla."

"Yes! An excess of alcohol! White spirit perhaps. Listen to their rough calls as they puke their mass to earth. What an abundance." He/she begins filing the report, ear still inclined to the loudspeaker.

It wasn't like this in the East. Molasses was the favoured fruit. Everyone would cry while toasting Bursten and the Federation. No one failed to find Schoner fascinating, her charms suggesting one rigourous in the divided way. It was only natural. He/she misses the bondage parlours, especially Bosen's. He/she can still taste the increased kisses of Bosen's sister, the tracery of roses, the tangle of vines, the interiors, the ineffective company of inoperative women, a friend, her dead signature, a lifetime commitment. And in the Wollust Quarter, a timeless screw worms deep within, the one eared cherub plunging his handspike a foot into the almighty's ass. Oh brother! What would Schoner now give to tighten, pressurise and purge Father Uber's weight, unloading, draining, firmly drawing stars. Sturzt! Sturzt! Millions had kissed his discharge.

Happily, the GENE program supported this heavenly luxury and its millions of kisses in the extreme kingdom. The Company too turned a blind eye. Schoner was too useful to let go. Her delicate persistance had helped detain a woman in the East, much to the rejoicing of Flugel's father.

The eavesdropper pulls Schoner's ear back to work. Over the bug, different voices, clearly: "What do you think of Schopfer? Do you suspect him? The whole world mistrusts Schopfer!"

Surveillance engineer Gotterfunken reexamines the cross-correlated test results and draws the terrible inference. "Of course! Uber's stars must still be alive!"

The dial spins wildly.

For Vanessa Yaremchuk on the occasion of her birthday.


Lagowski said...

This takes the idea of William Burroughs' cut ups sideways. Love it.

John Bowers said...

Thanks Lagowski! I should go back to this kind of experimentation. As you will see, this piece, like most on this dormant blog, is over three years old!