Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Move it

A bout of insomnia grabs me in its fangs, distends its jaws to swallow my poisoned body twitching on the metal rack.   Terror slithers through the dormitory--visions of future felonies and bludgeonings dance in the heads of meth addicts and child rapists.  The wheel of the last 24 hours turns, flinging out images like an antique zoetrope.   I try to focus on one, but the pictures overlap and flicker in my sleepless brain:

--Electric Master Pastor Blue on the chapel stage earlier tonight with his Magic Word Worship Band and Praise God! Entourage, prancing about like a spindly black mantis, singing a weird blend of 70s soul, R&B, low-down funk and old testament prophesy:

Pastor Blue: "Suffering Young Gentlemen!  Is the homeless life getting you down?  Do you have plastic baggies done up with stolen rubber bands on your swole-up feet to keep them dry?  Yes, indeed-- have Mercy!"  [his body seems to sway and twitch in separate planes--head bobbing, torso undulating, hips thrusting, legs skittering]

Entourage:  "Go, Blue. Tell it Blue!  Sing that Holy Truth, Blue!"

Pastor Blue: "Does your bunky smell like a herd of swine and talk all night like the Legion cast out by Our Blessed Lord?"

Entourage: "Go Blue, tell it, Blue!  He quoting from the King James! [Pastor Blue has several translations of the bible laid out before him on a battered wooden table.]  "Nobody sing the Bible like Blue!  Go Blue, Go!"

--At my sub job, before the flag salute at the outdoor morning assembly, teachers and staff carrying bullhorns exhort 300 schoolchildren to stomp and bounce to a sinister bragging hip-hop song in Fresno heat boiling off the blacktop.

--Pastor Blue: "Brothers, is the big, big problem in your life the rancid mayonnaise in the sack lunch?    Didn't get no extra slice of bologna?" [He grins and jabs at us with his microphone]

Entourage: "Tell it, Blue!  Ain't no whining necessary in the house of God!  Go Blue!"

--At recess snack distribution--sealed plastic bags of broccoli and cauliflower florets-- a near riot breaks over the shortage of ranch dressing packets.  

"I didn't get any ranch!" scream some of the kids.  I never get ranch for these yucky vegetables!"  Several children suck the ranch from the packets and ignore the vegetables.  A crowd of young thugs stomp on ranch packets and send white spatters onto pants and skirts.

--The guy in the bunk above me begins a demented rant about doom and his lifelong relationship with tuna fish and potato chips:

"End times coming!  My mama  used to give me tuna sandwiches on a plate for my lunch!  Then she started putting potato chips next to the sandwich!  I said right NEXT to the fucking sandwich for a special treat! That was the good times!"

--Pastor Blue: "Some of you gents out there might prefer me to be singing the Country Western style music, heh! heh! But it don't matter, long as the Word gets to your ears!"
--During an anti-bullying assembly in the cafeteria,  a bully in Michael Bay Transformer costume made of cardboard cartons sprayed with glitter paint shouts threats at cowering children in a distorted robot voice, then baggy-pants homies somehow rap and hip-hop dance the robot bully off the stage.  The Rainbow Girls sing a song about caring.

--"Then my mama started making tuna casserole with potato chips on top.  I said ON TOP--nice and crispy you bet, motherfucker!  Then I started the golden age:  Potato chips in my sandwich!  I put the chips inside, I said INSIDE right there with the tuna fish!  Taste sensation, motherfuckers!"

--I leave the school and have to mince my way over puddles of rancid ranch on the sidewalk.

--Now I eat only tuna in a can with my own fork!  Tuna in Can!  I will be pure and eat tuna only from a can!  I partake of the body of the lord who was a fisher of men!  Packed in spring water    Packed in goddammed SPRINGWATER!  No more trans fats greasy potato chips or white bread! Tuna in a CAN, motherfucker!"

--Pastor Blue: "Ain't nobody homeless when Blue singing to you!  Now let's all get up and dance!"

Members of the chapel audience are allowed to boogie along with Blue for a minute or two, then the Disciples of Christ settle them down to line up for showers and sleepless rack time.