Carlton Mellick III - Satan Burger

The scorpion flies are behind us, feeding probably, but we can’t be too sure we’re safe from them. And there are other creatures to worry about as well. Like the dark ones and the prowler beasts and the krellians. And the Movac, who knows everything, who is awaiting us at the walm.

Richard Stein said that it would be a terrible thing to know everything about everything. I bet he would’ve agreed with Lenny’s statement that nothing should know everything , and whoever does know everything should be killed. Richard Stein also said that all human beings are born with the wish to know all there is to know, even if it is such a terrible thing.

The park, which used to be punk-filled, is now flooded with a miniature ocean — one that must’ve been brought from a miniature world. At first I see it as a giant puddle, through gyration eyes, but once I scoop a handful of the water I can see closer-closer. Turns out there are tiny whales and sharks and sailboats inside. So small that a sandwich bug can eat them in a gulp. I drop the chunk of ocean back into place, probably drowning the sailboats that I had. The ocean seems to go for half a mile, all the way through Punk Land.

Richard Stein said that the ocean, not old age, is where all the world’s wisdom comes from. He believed that oceans produce an aura that seeps into the souls of anyone around it, so people that live in or around the ocean are generally the most enlightened people alive. Mr. Richard Stein never knew this for fact, though, because he didn’t know any wise people that lived near the ocean. He just assumed he knew what he was talking about after he visited the Atlantic one summer. He said, “The vast emotion was overpowering and my thoughts were never so clear.” But he never went inside of the water, since Richard Stein couldn’t swim. One of his legs didn’t work correctly.

Water-wisdom is what he called it. He said that it’s much more powerful than old age wisdom or educated wisdom or the common wisdom you’re born with. In fact, he mentioned that if there was someone who knew everything about everything, that person would’ve gotten his/her knowledge from water-wisdom. If this were true then more schools should’ve been built on beaches or near lakes, because wisdom is more important than school-learning — which is intelligence . The thing about intelligence is that it revolves around memory. Those with good memories will learn more. Those that forget easily will not be intelligent. And those with photographic memories will be considered geniuses. I don’t like to hear that someone with such good memory can be called such a name, a genius is one who has both intelligence and wisdom.

The man who knows everything is an exception, however, because he was probably born with the knowledge to know everything — at least in my opinion. So memory would not be an important commodity for him, since there is nothing he can learn that he will need to remember .

By the way, I have been addressing the man who knows everything as a he , but I perfectly well know that it could be a she — the woman who knows everything. I will have to start calling it the Movac , so that I do not ruin its gender.

Richard Stein figured that he could find total enlightenment by heading out to sea in a little sailboat. In fact, he said that he would either find enlightenment or die trying. With his spouse gone and without giving the world any children, there was nothing he really had to lose. Except for his life, but by then he was so old-hugging that he would’ve died soon anyway. He was probably going out to sea to kill himself. That’s the way he wanted to die.

On the side of his little boat, he printed the words Ocean Man , which was the title of his ship. He took two months supply of food and three months supply of whiskey and a few books; one was Hemmingway’s The Old Man and the Sea and another was Kafka’s The Castle . Then Ocean Man shoved off from the port in Gloucester, Massachusetts, where he lived for two years during adolescence. His girlfriend back then was called Nina , and she was the first woman that he ever loved. The one he never forgot.

Richard Stein said that you’ll always love your firs t love, no matter how many partners you may go through. The first is always special. His second love, which became his first wife, did not compare to the memory of Nina. Neither did his second wife, who was his eighth love, and who died in an institution populated by crazies. Besides Nina, Richard Stein loved his Cool Blue Lady the most; she was the only woman who stood with him throughout his entire life.

The Cool Blue Lady hovered over Richard Stein solemnly as he washed against the sea, kissing him with her breath. Yes, the Night was his love , deeply. He embraced her with passion, allowing Ocean Man to drift him into the betweens of her firm dark legs. Richard Stein called this voyage the supreme ordeal of his life — the climax of fire, his grand finale. It was the first and only time he truly felt alive and he was glad he lived so long to reach it. He was glad he never put the gun to his head as he always figured he would.

Mortician and I find a dry island underneath a tree and set Nan down. On the swap-side of the tree is a miniature city by the ocean that has a port leading out to the sea. Dozens of fishing boats are coming and going. I wonder if this port is similar to the one in Gloucester, where Ocean Man set sail. I wonder if there is a character similar to Richard Stein over there, setting out to find clarity during the twilight of his life, trying to get in his grand finale before he dies.

“What are we going to do?” Mortician asks.

“I don’t know,” I say. “Wait awhile, for Christian.”

“Do you think he will make it?”

“He better.”

I pressure-thumb Nan’s eye open to see how she’s doing. Still unconscious. Her nipple has been covered over with a coat of mud. I’m guessing that Mortician is responsible for earthing Nan’s breast, because he was probably disgusted by it. Mort finds Nan dyke-hideous because she’s too thin, bald-headed, and without many curves. Skinhead girls are dirty to him.

I hit myself in the skull, thinking about how I almost raped Nan back there. Then I hit myself again.

Some walm people pass by, through the tiny ocean, slug-legged people with no eyes. I often wonder how significant the human race is/was compared to the other peoples of the universe, wondering if we were superior or equal or less. So far, I haven’t seen any race that is technologically more advanced than humans. I have seen some that were emotionally more advanced, or physically more advanced, or own better lives than us, but none are particularly evolved scientifically.

Can it be that humans are ahead of their time? Can everyone else out there be as primitive as the walm races? Are we something special ? Maybe we were put to an end because we evolved past the danger zone — which is the zone where even gods are vulnerable to man’s destructive power. Maybe we invented a device that could blow up the sun, heaven, where Yahweh lives. Maybe He cut us off because He was afraid we would destroy Him.

“I’ve got an idea,” Mortician says.

I glisten to the rolling water and stutter-mumble a word.

Mort asks, “Why do we have to leave?”

“Because of the walm. Forget already?”

“I didn’t forget,” he says. “But what if we get rid of the walm? We wouldn’t have to go anywhere. I think we should just destroy it, just fuck it up with an ax or light it on fire, damage it enough so that it won’t work anymore. If the walm is gone we can stay without losing our souls.”