CSI: American Carnage (Saturday, August 24, 2019)
THE CENTRAL PLAINS – Beneath the derelict towns with their snaking breadlines and starving armies of destitute farmers, beneath the dust devils tearing up the stalks of dry corn and the rotting dumps of soy beans, beneath the lassitude and innervation of scarcity, the Dark Ones sit in the Antechamber of Avarice, one of their favorite spots in the vast central plains complex, so reminiscent of the home of childhood. Childhood! So full of Father and his moving stories of profits pried from the cold grasp of Berlin and the even colder grasp of Moscow. The Dark Ones sit on a Louis XIV divan, sipping the newest green tea, a product of well placed gifts to trade officials. The Hoosier Puppet has departed after promising to make regular, detailed reports on the Gambler Showman. The elder turns to his brother and says, The Showman is a fool if he thinks he can rein in the crafty Xi. He must deal asymmetrically, perhaps by deploying his Korean Love Doll. The younger brother begins to speak. He says, The Love Doll has his …. The younger stops. A cloud seems to pass over his face and his brows seem to ice over. The elder says, What is it my brother? You’ve become so pale, as though the wing of an albino raven, such as Father used to breed, has brushed your face and deposited sheets of his frigid presence all about you. The younger brother stares into the distance, mute for several moments. He then rouses himself. The elder says, Speak to me my brother. What is the matter? The younger turns to him and says, Nothing, nothing, my brother. My body grew deeply cold for a moment and I looked up and there was Father, standing in that firm way he used to stand when he spoke to his colleagues at home when they gathered in the basement. Oh, my brother! I can see Robert Welch, spittle dribbling down his short tie as he denounces Eisenhower! I can see Harry Bradley embracing dear Barry! And there is old man Stoddard, savaging the unions! There is a green light, my brother! Why is it so cold, so cold? The elder, uncomfortable, shifts his position on the divan. He says, My brother, our journey has been long, but we have always had father to guide us and inspire us as we seek to acquire what is rightfully ours. We shall continue as before, because, like Father, we have used the past and built for the future and what we have created will live on, irrepressible. We believe in the green light you see, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It has eluded us, but that’s no matter—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . And then one fine morning— So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. The younger looks at his brother. He says, That’s just nonsense, my brother. The current flows with us and our boat is propelled far into the future with increasing velocity. — Saturday, August 24, 2019