Nacho Sasha and the Knights of Saint John Part III: Less Than Zero
\n<\/p>\n
“Christ in a handbasket, am I glad to see you.” I said to my manservant as he immediately began preparing a bread and cheese meal, removing the corpses of the people 16th Century Satan had been torturing.<\/p>\n
The dark one himself stood in a corner, brooding, while I attempted to explain my situation. But he didn’t seem very receptive.<\/p>\n
My manservant found a thin, gruely alcohol and poured it in a glass for me, but I had decided to keep my head clear so I rubbed some laudanum on my gums and began the 32 Positions of the Lotus.<\/p>\n
“So,” I said to my manservant, “did you do what I asked?” Hand like Dragon, Face Pristine \u2013 Wheat Field! Man is Farmer and Bird Swoops Down.<\/p>\n
My manservant reached into his filthy leather duffel bag, which contained 1 copy of Lew\u2019s Guide to Magic, 1 dagger, 1 magic scroll, 2 potions of healing, 1 Star of Amaryon and a Funny Vessel.<\/p>\n
Look Funny Vessel<\/p>\n
The Funny Vessel is shaped like a clown, you took it from the High Priest’s altar but you don’t know what it is used for…it looks like it could hold about 4.5 ounces of fluid, though.<\/p>\n
Look N<\/p>\n
To the North is a flight of stairs.<\/p>\n
N<\/p>\n
It is dark. You will likely be eaten by a grue.<\/p>\n
S<\/p>\n
You can’t go that way!<\/p>\n
My arms were out in Crane Eating Spider as my manservant triumphantly held up D’Artagnan’s time travel device. I quit the 16th Position of the Lotus and took the device, running my fingers through my manservant’s hair. “That’s my little sticky fingers.” Then I turned to Satan. “Behold, the time machine.”<\/p>\n
Satan nodded, “So prove it to me. Let’s go for a trip.”<\/p>\n
“Where to?”<\/p>\n
“Anywhere. I don’t care. Your discretion.”<\/p>\n
“Aye, aye Mr. Sulu.” I punched in four numbers.<\/p>\n
Back into the mist.<\/p>\n
Blue-green…and a flash, breath stolen, the mind reeling, back and again.<\/p>\n
And that…that’s the power of love.<\/p>\n
Make a one man weep, make another man sing.<\/p>\n
Talking away, I don’t know what I’m to say. I’ll say it anyway, today’s another day to find you.<\/p>\n
Enter young Virginia Madsen looking into the mirror and entering the comic strip…then we float away.<\/p>\n
These are memories.<\/p>\n
Four numbers, shifting space, from Rhodes to the Babylon of New York.<\/p>\n
1985.<\/p>\n
I had taken us to the corruption and the beauty that was America of the 1980’s.<\/p>\n 1981, Reagan is inaugurated at a cost of 11 million dollars.<\/p>\n Money, glory, the greenback began to trickle down.<\/p>\n 1981. Charles and Di marry. MTV awakens in our subconscious. Money for nothing.<\/p>\n 1982. Pac-Man is named Man of the Year by Time Magazine. From Hitler to Pac Man…Late Night With David Letterman explodes into our media culture.<\/p>\n You are on cocaine.<\/p>\n 1983. John Riggins to Sandra Day O’Conner: “Lighten Up, Sandy!” Reagan and the taxpayers watch Rambo together. Grenada is “liberated” and Reagan quotes Rambo. At Christmas, a riot in a West Virginia mall leads to the mutilation of three cabbage patch dolls. They are later buried at a cemetery and then-Vice President George Bush delivers a eulogy, aired on national television.<\/p>\n 1984. Miami Vice. “Where’s the Beef?” is asked by former VP Walter Mondale in an attempt to criticize Reagan. The Year of the Yuppie. Again, another cover from Time Magazine.<\/p>\n “I Want to Know What Love Is…” Back to the future, boys and girls. Geraldine Ferraro becomes the first failed candidate to accept a major ad campaign. Diet Pepsi, this time. They start the trend. Visa gets Bob Dole a decade later. New fucking Coke. Live Aid! Band Aid! Hands Across America!<\/p>\n Yes, we built this city. No wonder why it burns.<\/p>\n My manservant, 16th Century Satan and myself pressed our backs against a brick wall as Bleeker Street screamed into view. For 16th Century Satan, half a millennia had just passed in a few heartbeats. He pressed his hands to his eyes and screamed. My manservant grinned and flipped a Susan B. Anthony at a tottering bum while I breathed in the iniquity of the world’s most glorious city.<\/p>\n “16th Century Satan,” I muttered, “I give you the goddamned future.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Nacho Sasha and the Knights of Saint John Part III: Less Than Zero<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[53],"tags":[137,148],"class_list":["post-416","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-sunday-archive","tag-archives","tag-knights-of-st-john"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/416","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=416"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/416\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":851,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/416\/revisions\/851"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=416"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=416"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=416"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nAll the school kids so sick of books
\nThey like the punk and the metal band
\nWhen the buzzer rings (oh whey oh)
\nThey’re walking like an Egyptian
\n<\/em><\/p>\n