CSI: American Carnage (Saturday, July 20, 2019)
BENEATH THE DESERT – Little Timmy, pup reporter, and the small strike force, now headed up by Timmy’s long-time mentor, the Professor, aim for what they believe is the west. Directions are difficult and somewhat meaningless in The Cyber, which does not actually exist within the normal time-space continuum. In fact, the dedicated group is seeking the Kitchen, the hydrophonic heart of the virtual world, the place where memes are conjured out of acidic electronic musings and motivations are cooked up on a massive virtual stove. As the strike force makes its way through the sodden tunnel, Boris, genial triple agent, says, Eet ees becoming very hot. Eet ees hotter than witch’s tit in January. We must be near Kitchen. Sarah, Timmy’s friend from the resistance potluck, stops in her tracks and turns on Boris. She says, That’s quite enough talk about tits. That’s the kind of thing the autocrat would say as he screwed his way through a girl scout troop. Boris says, I meant not to offend, eet ees just hot and getting hotter like … He stops, thinking better of making an analogy. The tunnel is filled with the wails of women and children, louder now. From the other direction, which is not actually a direction but more of a perception of a direction, a shadow sense of what might be a place should it exist, which, of course, it does not, or not in the way that those occupying the material would agree amounts to existence. Timmy says, Listen up everyone, it is getting hotter and wetter and the wails and shouts are growing louder – we must be getting very close to the Kitchen. Professor, what can we expect to find there? The Professor takes his pipe out if his mouth and begins to clean it with a small wire. He taps the head of the pipe against a rock wall and holds it thoughtfully. He says, I have no idea. Mohammed, Timmy’s friend, says, Geez, Professor. That sucks. The wails and cries of women and babies grow even louder and more chaotic. Boris puts his hands over his ears. He says, I can’t stand it! Awful sound. Through the billowing wails come flashing shrieks of COMMUNIST! Sarah says, Listen! The strike force is quiet as a faint rustling of new phrases blows down the tunnels. Are you now, comes from what might be the north, or have you ever been, rolls up from the possible south, a member of the Communist Party, seems to come from everywhere, a sensurround of the nation’s most venerable fears cooked into tried and true slurs. A bass line emerges. SEND. HER. BACK. SEND. HER. BACK. An acapella chorus of insinuations and prevarications, smears and lies, fills the tunnels. Sarah says, The autocrat is not creative. He takes the most common slur, which is usually the most potent, and amplifies it a thousand fold. He hammers and hammers. America has marinated in the boiling waters of anti-socialism for a century and a half and its terror of dark people was born when Europeans first stepped on this land. These are the most ancient fears the autocrat can deploy. These are the fears that define America, which everyone believes was born of optimism but in reality was built entirely from fear and in fear. The autocrat did not create these fears, but he can exploit them with his sick glee and he will use them to deadly effect. Ground-shaking rumbles now jolt the tunnels. SEND. HER. BACK. SEND. HER. BACK. SEND. HER. BACK. The members of the strike force look at each other. Come on, says Timmy, let’s go. — Saturday, July 20, 2019