SELF-DELUSION - 2001: A Pork Odyssey - part 10
Written: Sep 18 '01 (Updated Sep 18 '01)
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Product Rating:
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Pros: Hot. Damn hot.
Cons: Hot. Damn hot.
The Bottom Line: If you haven't yet read parts one through ten, do so now at http://www.cerdo.com/oink/write-off/pork.html
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| repulsemonkey's Full Review: Mojave Desert |
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Soundtrack: the Afghan Whigs--“My Curse”
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This cigarette tastes good--a Newport, bought for a quarter from some homeless woman outside a Circle K while Rose took a dump and Saintgoddess69 sat in the car flipping radio stations, looking for one that played music instead of the news; and when the woman handed it to me she said, “I know you,” but she didn’t--damn, this tastes especially good. It shouldn’t, you know, not after the last couple of weeks. In fact, I shouldn’t even have taken the time to smoke. But for some reason that very thing--the excess of the act--allows the nicotine to dig deeper as I inhale. I can feel it eating away at my brain, a friendly parasite--much like Rose, in fact--and while she used the restroom I also noticed the card in her purse and realized I would have to kill her.
I ask again how far we are from Minneapolis and I get shot a look. Something about the way I asked--a hesitation in my voice, the drag I take in the middle of the sentence--triggers the thought in Rose: She knows I’ve seen it now. Just like that, she knows I’m onto her.
“Not more than two hours,” she says, attempting to keep her voice as flat as possible and failing, “Why?”
“Just curious. My legs keep cramping up in the back.”
“Oh.” She doesn’t believe me, probably because I’m lying--I would rather spend the next two years in the back of that damn car because I know what will happen when we get to Minneapolis. And not the revelation of why all this happened, either--the destruction of my house and life, the transformation of my head into the head of a pig, the new identity, the adaptation to this new world. No, I knew weeks ago that those reasons would come to light once we reached Minneapolis. Had a feeling I knew them already. I don’t care about that--I want to know the reasons for my life as this beast, this Cerdo, as much as I don’t want to know them--it’s the confrontation I want to avoid, especially since Rose knows it’s coming now, too.
Saintgoddess69 doesn’t say a word, pretends to fixate on the radio. Smart. Her arrival at the boxing match in Zion must not have been the coincidence they made it out to be. But she can’t hide the slight tension in her shoulders and I know she’s listening intently to Rose, awaiting some signal. And then... well that’s the part I don’t know.
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Soundtrack: Wu-Tang Clan--“I Can’t Go To Sleep”
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Pretending to sleep in order to eavesdrop on the conversation between Rose and Saintgoddess69 doesn’t work--they both sit and stare in silence, listening to the radio static--so I fall asleep for real. I figure if they slit my throat while I sleep, at least I won’t be able to beat myself up over it.
My eyes closed, the days before my metamorphosis into Cerdo play before me like animation on a computer screen, even though I can only remember fragments of words and images. My wife running a brush through her long red hair. Her breath on my ear. These hectic past weeks, I haven’t had enough time to miss her, but now, laying here in what might be my last sleep, I do. She sneaks up on me in the shower, while I shave. I say, “I love you...” shit... her name... I can’t remember my own wife’s name... and all of a sudden she’s gone again, and I’m left staring at my computer in a dizzy haze just before my final second of human consciousness.
Not that the days since I’ve transformed into this man-pig Cerdo have cemented themselves any firmer in my memory. At once, I’ve felt dead and resurrected, breathless and panting, fulfilled and betrayed. Rose helped me piece together some assemblage of identity here in this new world; taught me how to trust; warned me about the dangers of exposing my new self to these people, and then encouraged me to do just that; fought off the damn midget clowns.
I didn’t know at the time that she had her own agenda. She only prepared me for a sacrifice to the god of this world: Nirav. She needed someone to rally her people against, someone she could set up for a fall. When she found me--naked, unassuming, innocent--she found the perfect patsy. I knew it as soon as I saw the card in her purse. It read: “Top Reviewer, Editor.” I realized that she had held out on me, convinced me to fight against the convention of her world by reveling in a lack of consumer information, by having fun, by following my instincts instead of blindly heeding the word of Nirav. But as she trained me, she also branded me as a heretic, welled up anger against me--her people needed someone to hate, a source of evil to match their supposed good. But she taught me too well. Though betrayed, I hold fast to my ideals. Rose must be eliminated.
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Soundtrack: Buddy Guy--“Baby Please Don’t Leave Me”
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“Wake up, Cerdo, Wake the fuck up.”
Two seconds ago I dreamt that my wife had welcomed me back home, led me into the bedroom and went to town. Now, my eyes pop open, my wife again a distant memory, my vision obscured by the barrel of a Magnum shoved in my face, Rose straddling me in the back seat of the car. Wonderful, she woke me up to shoot me. I’m kicking myself for falling asleep.
“Damn, Rose, if I’d have known you liked the rough shit, I’d have held a knife to your throat a long time ago. This might work better though if you unbutton my pants...”
“Stifle it.”
“We in Minneapolis?”
“Hah. You think you’ve got it figured out, son, but you don’t know a pancake from a hand grenade. Minneapolis? You’ll never see the place. We’re going to get out of the car. Don’t do anything stupid.”
She keeps the gun on me as I follow her out of the car. It’s just light enough outside for me to realize that I’m standing in the middle of the desert. I can’t even see the road from here. The silence has gotten to me, Rose prolongs the slaughter either because she doesn’t really want to kill me or because she wants to torture me before I die. I suspect the latter, and if that’s the case, it’s working. “Where’s Saintgoddess69?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Gone.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. She just disappeared, just like that.” As she speaks, Rose waves her hand like a magician. She seems more shocked at Saintgoddess69’s vanishing than I am. “Someone,” she continues, “someone decided she didn’t deserve to live here, didn’t deserve to interact with the other inhabitants of this world, so they took her out, without warning. Hell, the car was still rolling and all of a sudden no one was driving anymore.”
“But... who has that kind of power? Who can just erase someone?”
“Nirav.”
“I DON’T BELIEVE IN YOUR NIRAV.”
“Saintgoddess69 didn’t either, and look at what happened to her.”
“But you two were working together...”
“She betrayed me... because of you.”
“What? ...How?”
“She planted this where you could see it, tried to turn you against me.” She holds up the card. “It’s not even mine.”
“Why would she do that? She has nothing to gain from me.”
“Sure she does. Attention, someone to tell her how great she is, someone to tell her she’s right. That’s a powerful thing. We all want it here. If she can turn us against one another, it makes her look better in both our eyes.”
“Then why is there a gun in my face right now? And why are you on the other side of it?”
“Self-preservation. If I don’t get you, you’ll get me.”
“No, I won’t.”
“You won’t....? Hah. Can you be that ignorant? Why do you think you’re here, Cerdo?”
“I don’t know.”
“YES... Yes you do. Your transformation into this pig-faced beast, your exile from your wife, our journey across country with no destination, all this ambiguity--you orchestrated all of it. It’s all a product of your mind. You created me and the midget clowns and this desert and your damn pig face because you can’t deal with your own life, your life outside of this world.”
“I don’t have a life outside of here. If I did, why would I stay?”
“Because you can’t handle it. Your wife, your house, you computer--they all still exist, but you can’t face them. So you come here and pretend you’re someone else--not even a human--and you immerse yourself in this fantasy world where you can make up the rules and pretend to live like you want to live.”
“...why?”
“Maybe you love your wife too much--so much it scares you. Maybe you’re afraid if you don’t get rid of her, she’ll get rid of you, so you cut yourself off. Pull yourself out of the situation before you can get hurt. Jump into some other world, some other identity so that you don’t have to face real life.”
“You’re lying.”
“Now, you’re doing the same thing to me. We got too close and it scares you. You like me too much, so you have to get rid of me.”
“No. The card... Saintgoddess69...”
“You just wanted a reason to hate me, Cerdo, a reason to block me out. But all I really am is words--typing on a computer screen. Your mind fills in the rest. How you feel about me is subject to whim. So you discover things to hate, activities to hold your attention like fighting enemies of your own creation, things to prevent you from going back to real life. That’s all this is: a diversion to keep you from living.”
“So if I’m trying to take you out, then why do you have the gun?”
“I don’t. The gun is in your hand.”
As soon as she says it, I can feel the grip in my palm. Rose is no longer holding the Magnum. I am. I lift my arm and point it at her. “I don’t believe you. I won’t.”
“You don’t have to. But know that your beautiful wife and your house and your real life still exist, you just have to choose to go back to them. Nobody else is going to do it for you,” as she speaks, slowly, steadily, she begins to back up. “I’m leaving now. If you want me, you know where to find me. But I have a feeling you’ll be busy with other things...” and with that she turns her back to me and walks off into the heart of the desert.
I watch her as she goes. She’s almost entirely out of sight when I point my gun at her and scream, “NO! You have to stay with me. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. You have to stay...” but she’s already gone.
I drop to my knees, let the gun fall to the ground. My mind buzzes with all the things Rose told me... I just have to choose... my wife... And I slowly begin to lay down in the desert sand. The sun comes up over the mountains and I watch it rise over my head and sink again. It seems to take place in a matter of minutes. I can’t bring myself to move. Finally, hours into the night, I close my eyes. A beautiful, red-haired woman dances in front of me. I haven’t slept in weeks.
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CLOSING CREDITS
Soundtrack: Cake--“Ruby Sees All”
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CAST
Cerdo... Edward Norton
Rose... Selma Hayak
Saintgoddess69... Kirsten Dunst
BadkittyM... Elizabeth Berkeley
Daturawest... Helena Bonham Carter
Farfetched... PeeWee Herman
Hirohito99... Lou Diamond Phillips
Imokliel... Vincent D’Onofrio
Kung_Fu_Chimp... Charles Bronson
Obnox... Thora Birch
Oxsteam... Christopher Walken
Sumo_Rhino... James Gandolfini
Thom413... Ice Cube
Repulsemonkey... Freddie Prinze, Jr.
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repulsemonkey
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