CSI: American Carnage (Sunday, April 28, 2019)
SUNLAND NM — No, says Little Timmy, pup reporter. No! No flight simulators. We need to exit this place. The ringmaster, twirling his stick, suddenly stops. Leibchen, he says, leibchen, you cannot leave, you just arrived. There is so much to see and do. If not flight simulator, how about the Putt-Putt golf? We can make sure you do not lose! There is always the possibility of the hole-in-one! You can even win the Supreme Court, one of our great Putt-Putt Prizes! Vorstellen! Imagine! The hurdy gurdy music fades away and thumping lyrics fill the air, drowning out the rattle of the roller coasters. Oh, a storm is threatening my very life today. If I don’t get some shelter, oh yeah, I’m gonna fade away. The Professor says, I know this song. What is this song? Boris, genial triple agent, says, Oh, that is great Russian pop song, favorite of Poohteen, Dayte Mne Ubezhishche. Eet play on every Day of National Disunity when streets fill with goats and judgments are handed down. The ringmaster smooths his invisible mustache and straightens his ragged waistcoat. If not Putt-Putt, he says, spreading his arms wide, Why not the world’s greatest fortune teller? She will see into your future and foretell your dreamlife. Boris says, Da! Da! Fortune teller ees gut! Follow me, says the ringmaster. He two-steps down the fairway. Ooh, see the fire is sweepin our very street today – burns like a red coal carpet, mad bull lost its way. There is a booth with a torn and stained curtains. The flashing lights are out. The sign, falling off, seems to read, Madame Blavatsky. But it could also read Mad Adam Blavat (the end of the sign appears to be gnawed off). Boris says, Thees ees wunderbar! He removes his hat and says to the woman with the scarf over her head who sits behind the booth, I am so deeply honored. She says, The discoveries of modern science do not disagree with the oldest traditions which claim an incredible antiquity for our race. Give me your hand. Boris holds out his hand which she takes into her own and examines with great care. She says, Do not be afraid of your difficulties. Do not wish you could be in other circumstances than you are. For when you have made the best of an adversity, it becomes the stepping stone to a splendid opportunity. Boris, solemn, nods. Da. Da., he says. The strike force looks on. The music pulsing through the park rises in intensity. War, children, it’s just a shot away, it’s just a shot away. She gazes at Boris’s palm. There is a crackle of electricity that zaps through the booth. She says, Truth be known that all the court systems are not constitutional courts, they are administrative tribunals making great heaping sums of profit for the prison systems. Look into your birth certificate number because those bonds are being traded on the New York Stock Exchange. Boris nods vigorously. She looks again and then into his deep blue eyes. She says, Someone is messing with the Schumann Resonance again. High intensity energy being turned on in 3 minute intervals – 12 minutes apart. Boris nods. She says, San Diego synagogue shooting = John Earnest Earnest = 107 = 17 Time : 11:30 = 11:3 (13) (5) AR-15 = 1 : 18 : 15 = 1:9:6 AR = 17 (RFR). Boris rises. He says to the strike force, We are done here. The ringmaster taps his stick. The coasters rattle. The flood is threatening
my very life today. Gimme, gimme shelter — or I’m gonna fade away. The Professor says, Let’s go. The turn. The fairway is empty. Timmy says, Which way? — Sunday, April 28, 2019