The Crystal Men

            On Friday morning I started working out the chords for “Le complainte du progrès" by Boris Vian. It sounds like the set of chords in C7 are the right ones so far.

            I worked out the chords for “Pamela Popo” by Serge Gainsbourg and ran through the song in French and English.

            I spent a lot of the day working on my Indigenous Studies essay although I got more research than writing done. I have about a page and a half plus about the same amount of notes.

            I didn’t do my usual afternoon exercises.

            Today was the deadline for submitting writing to the Jack McLelland Writer in Residence workshop and so I sent an old science fiction story I wrote called “The Crystal Men”:

The last Man before me has burned. I want nothing more than to burn, but if I fall there will be no one left to shepherd the flock to God's slaughterhouse where the Crystal Men will single out our prime cuts & Jesus will feast on us all.

Swingle the dingle-ball, ooweeoo, the Crystal Men are comin in two by two. They don’t cast no shadow. They don’t cast no fuckin shadow. Have ya noticed that they don’t cast no shadow & that they shit see-through rocks? Fire & war & war & fire & cold, cold money that ain't worth nothin no more burnin a pocket in your hole. & there’s that bastard out there sellin Crystal Men piss for dope. Here, I'll piss on you ya friggin asshole! Come and get the real thing! Take yer puppets and shove em brainless and dancin up the Crystal Men’s asses.

            It’s fuckin hot! Oh yeah, of course! Down the street one of them Crystal bastards are meltin somebody. He’s screamin now, No! Help! Help! No! but it ain’t gonna do him no fuckin good.

            Funny thing... them guys never bother me or my buddies... Only once... When Sammy tried to clean his self up and get sober. He was on his way to church and one of them glass bastards fried him like a friggin fish stick.

            I got a theory. It’s the booze. I know it sounds crazy but I don’t think them things can fry anybody that’s drunk. I walked right by one of them once and he didn’t even pay no attention. I think it’s the booze, so as long as I stay sauced I’m safe. I'd rather burn out than get burned. The drunks shall inherit the earth an the next fuckin Prime Minister of Canada will be smokin rollies from gutter butts, drinkin bitters, singin drunk in the alley with his premiers an readin his blanket when he wakes up in the afternoon in the park or wherever, cuz there ain’t gonna be no Sussex Drive no more.

            You'd think the Crystal Men woulda brought everybody together against a common enemy, but that ain’t the way people really are. Everybody feels even more alone than before, cept fer us drunks. If what I’m thinkin is right we can go anyplace we want and take anything we want. The drunks shall inherit the Earth but then they’re gonna trade it in fer a bottle of wine an then stagger off into the sunset cuz it ain’t worth keepin, an then it's all gonna start up all over again anyway, but they ain’t never gonna get it right, cause whatever they build is gonna burn.

            But that ain’t nothin ta cry about. Its somethin ta drink about, cause drinkin kills alla the germs in the head. Pour it on yer wounds an then go get some Chinese take-out & an ole Playboy magazine out of a dumpster... Man, that’s Heaven!

            Hey! I don’t care, cuz they don’t bother me anyways, but Ill bet I know how ta kill them Crystal bastards! I bet if I threw this bottle a wine I’m holdin right now at one of them glass fuckheads he’d melt like a son of a bitch!

            Ahh, fuckit! Think Ill go check out the dumpster behind the Pizza Pizza.

            There’s one of them creeps now! Hey Buddy! Here's a present fer ya!

            (The careless aim sends the nearly empty bottle flying, bottom first from the wino's weathered hand. The drunk doesn’t even stop to look at whether it strikes its target until he hears a loud cracking noise like a heavy frost biting into a tree limb, then he turns to see the Crystal Man collapse on the street, a gnawing rift ascending from its red wine stained ankle, up its leg & into its upper body until it lies like a broken Christmas ornament on the concrete.

            The homeless alcoholic suddenly changes his mind about the dumpster & heads for the liquor store instead.

            I found one I found one! shouts the tourist on her knees in the alley.

            Her husband leans begrudgingly forward & scolds, Willya give it up, Martha? The last shard was picked up years ago! That’s a piece of a broken wine bottle or somethin, not a Crystal Man!

               Martha’s face lights up. Do ya think it was a piece of the one thrown by Joe? she asks.

            How the hell should I know? he barks. Look, everything that bum owned or touched is down at the Joe Schmecky Museum, Martha! Come on! Lets go home! There’s this great recipe book I bought at the gift shop. Its called Cookin With Thunderbird. I wanna try out the barbecue sauce!

            She puts the broken glass in a baggy & slips it into her purse.

            Oh, all right Fred. she says, &  they hobble away from the alley.

                Whadaya suppose ever happened to the guy? she asks as they lock arms & continue down the street.

            I had a potato, three pork ribs and gravy for dinner while watching Zorro.

            This story begins with Bernardo doing magic tricks in the market for the children. Then Don Diego intervenes in an argument between a Romani woman named Maria. She paid for some groceries with two shiny nuggets that look like gold. The shopkeeper does not think they have value because at this point in history everyone knows that there is no gold in California. Spanish California lasted until 1821 and the gold rush was a generation away. Diego pays for Maria’s groceries and the shopkeeper gives him the nuggets. A prospector who happened to overhear examines the rocks and says they are fools gold. Later Diego’s father confirms they are gold and dreads what would happen to California if gold fever were to hit. Maria had gotten the nuggets from her grandmother, who is a witch living in the hills outside of town. Diego goes to ask the old lady not to tell anyone about the nuggets but he learns that Maria has gone off with two men that claimed they needed help with a sick child. When the old lady describes one of the men Diego realizes that he is the prospector that he had met in Los Angeles and that Maria has been kidnapped and forced to lead them to the gold. The old lady had gotten the nuggets from an Indigenous woman from the mountains. Diego and Bernardo follow the bad guys into the mountains as they force Maria to show them where the Natives live. Diego changes to Zorro but with no cape and with a knife instead of a sword. The bad guys find a mine rich with gold. Maria runs and one of the guys tries to shoot her but Zorro stops him. Zorro has a knife fight with the prospector during which he is unmasked again. The Natives show up and kill one of the bad guys. They’ve also captured Bernardo, who dazzles them with magic until he throws some flash powder into the fire and they escape. The prospector tries to escape with a big bag of gold but the Natives start an avalanche and he is crushed.