![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jack_babalonTen minutes.
That's how long it takes for the Social Contract to be reneged, abandoned, ridiculed and stuffed into the bottle neck of an improvised molotov cocktail.
Ten minutes we've been stuffed into the car cattle tight. Ten minutes since the train stopped moving. Ten minutes of disgruntled murmurings. Ten minutes stuck here while Schizo-Jesus wails apopaclyptic!
Schizo Jesus is a little man in a salvation army hand me down suit. All mismatched pastels and an ugly tie hanging down to his balls. His gargoyle face peers out from the squeeze between two sets of shoulders. Bulged eyes that flick back and forth between passengers. He keeps licking his lips nervously. Listen he's starting up again:
"I don't know what the weatherman told you but God is looking down on us today. He see's. Yeah he see's you. He see's ALL-Y'All! He see's what can't be seen!"
I look around. The angerholics are restless. The zombified are starting to hear thoughts. I look up. I shoot the ceiling the bird. Hey, can God see that too?
"The weatherman is lying to you. The weatherman KNOWS! Hell is a cold place..."
A bell rings. The doors slide open. Then shut. Then open. Either a 10 year old is 'piloting' the train or a retard. I catch anxious commuters who try to leap between the jaws of the door. I catch a lean dreadlocked kid time the seconds, nod to himself and leap. He doesn't make it. The cars to tight and he hits a wall of people. The doors slam off his body repeatedly. Another bell, this one screeches.
"... he's lying to you right now! He doesn't want you to Be Leave!"
"THAT IS IT! I'VE HAD IT WITH ALL THIS BULLSHIT!" someone shouts down the corridor. Everyone shuts up. Even Schizo-Jesus. Everyone looks up from their novels, text books, bibles and newspapers. From their daydreams, inner monologues and the quiet composing of death threats to MARTA officals. Everyone lays eyes on this big black woman in a hooded bomber. She shrugs and moves her eyes down and to the left to indicate where the commotion is coming from: A small white girl next to her, pushing through the crowd with a self rightous beligerence. She's all of five feet nothing with a bonus inch off the heels. A GSU student judging by the backpack, outfit and attitude.
"OUT OF MY WAY GOD DAMN IT! I MEAN IT! OUT OF MY FUCKING WAY!!!" I don't know. Is she possessed? Is that how they shout wherever she's from. I watch her burrow through the bodies and force her way to the exit. She's ready to get off the train when the doors slam in her face and don't open up again.
"Nooooo!" she shrieks and an old woman standing next to her winces from the volume. "NO. GOD DAMN IT. NO!" She begins kicking the door furiously. Everyone tries to give her room but there's no room to give.
"Dude!" a goatee with a face attached to it chuckles to me, "What's her problem?"
I shrug non-commitally.
"Probably her period." he guffaws to himself. I look him over. Tweenage corporate asshole showing off his Khaki personality and Sport Bar soul in hopes of finding another tweenage corporate asshole to mate with. What he needs is a shot of death. Not adrenalin, none of that extreme sports bullshit where you jump off of something into something like a poor man's Johnny Knox. No, what this cat needs is a tour of Basra. Trade in those khaki's for some dessert camo. I pray to the ghost of Lee Marvin to reinstate the draft just long enough for them to snatch his ass up.
"Dude!" he says as some insurgents pin him down with machine gun fire from a rooftop, "Are they on the rag?"
Alright I gotta relax here. I mean i'm not thinking straight. I'm starting to lose my buzz. I take a deep breath. Another. I tell myself that everything will be fine once I get properly caffinated. I'll sneak a smoke in while I wait for the connecting train. Meanwhile i'll just have to tough it out. Thank Baby Jesus I had the sense to make sure that I gave myself a 'happy ending' before I left for work this morning. Hot Tantric Demon Love burns on the memory replay.
"...one day it'll never stop raining and you'll know that it was the weatherman who did it!" That's old Schizo-Jesus again, picking back up where he left off. Everyone sighs in frustration.
"MOTHER FUCKER WILL YOU SHUT UP!" the beligerent student yells from across the cab.
The Goatee yucks some more.
"You show some respect to your elders!" Schizo Jesus warns her his little goblin face puffed up in self justification. The little student starts pushing her way to him, muttering the whole time about how she's going to kick his 'Bible ass once and for all'. People cheer her on with 'Go on girls' and 'You show 'em'. The others are egging on Schizo-Jesus with 'You gonna let her talk to you like that?" and "Uh-oh! Here come the Weather Woman now!". Everybodys been inconvenienced by a delay and the only acceptable retribution for time lost is entertainment through violence!
Ten minutes that's all you get. After that it's fuck you Rousseau and your social contract too!
Then a miracle. The last thing you'd ever expect.
The train actually starts moving. Everyone stops. Looks up. Looks out the window to confirm the passing of the scenery that conveys motion. Then they look back at each other and let out a subdued cheer. Suddenly the beligerent student is calm. So's Schizo-Jesus. Conversations start back up. Headphone music whispers around the cab. Cellphones are activated.
The Social Contract has been renewed!
That is until the train breaks down again two stops down.
That's how long it takes for the Social Contract to be reneged, abandoned, ridiculed and stuffed into the bottle neck of an improvised molotov cocktail.
Ten minutes we've been stuffed into the car cattle tight. Ten minutes since the train stopped moving. Ten minutes of disgruntled murmurings. Ten minutes stuck here while Schizo-Jesus wails apopaclyptic!
Schizo Jesus is a little man in a salvation army hand me down suit. All mismatched pastels and an ugly tie hanging down to his balls. His gargoyle face peers out from the squeeze between two sets of shoulders. Bulged eyes that flick back and forth between passengers. He keeps licking his lips nervously. Listen he's starting up again:
"I don't know what the weatherman told you but God is looking down on us today. He see's. Yeah he see's you. He see's ALL-Y'All! He see's what can't be seen!"
I look around. The angerholics are restless. The zombified are starting to hear thoughts. I look up. I shoot the ceiling the bird. Hey, can God see that too?
"The weatherman is lying to you. The weatherman KNOWS! Hell is a cold place..."
A bell rings. The doors slide open. Then shut. Then open. Either a 10 year old is 'piloting' the train or a retard. I catch anxious commuters who try to leap between the jaws of the door. I catch a lean dreadlocked kid time the seconds, nod to himself and leap. He doesn't make it. The cars to tight and he hits a wall of people. The doors slam off his body repeatedly. Another bell, this one screeches.
"... he's lying to you right now! He doesn't want you to Be Leave!"
"THAT IS IT! I'VE HAD IT WITH ALL THIS BULLSHIT!" someone shouts down the corridor. Everyone shuts up. Even Schizo-Jesus. Everyone looks up from their novels, text books, bibles and newspapers. From their daydreams, inner monologues and the quiet composing of death threats to MARTA officals. Everyone lays eyes on this big black woman in a hooded bomber. She shrugs and moves her eyes down and to the left to indicate where the commotion is coming from: A small white girl next to her, pushing through the crowd with a self rightous beligerence. She's all of five feet nothing with a bonus inch off the heels. A GSU student judging by the backpack, outfit and attitude.
"OUT OF MY WAY GOD DAMN IT! I MEAN IT! OUT OF MY FUCKING WAY!!!" I don't know. Is she possessed? Is that how they shout wherever she's from. I watch her burrow through the bodies and force her way to the exit. She's ready to get off the train when the doors slam in her face and don't open up again.
"Nooooo!" she shrieks and an old woman standing next to her winces from the volume. "NO. GOD DAMN IT. NO!" She begins kicking the door furiously. Everyone tries to give her room but there's no room to give.
"Dude!" a goatee with a face attached to it chuckles to me, "What's her problem?"
I shrug non-commitally.
"Probably her period." he guffaws to himself. I look him over. Tweenage corporate asshole showing off his Khaki personality and Sport Bar soul in hopes of finding another tweenage corporate asshole to mate with. What he needs is a shot of death. Not adrenalin, none of that extreme sports bullshit where you jump off of something into something like a poor man's Johnny Knox. No, what this cat needs is a tour of Basra. Trade in those khaki's for some dessert camo. I pray to the ghost of Lee Marvin to reinstate the draft just long enough for them to snatch his ass up.
"Dude!" he says as some insurgents pin him down with machine gun fire from a rooftop, "Are they on the rag?"
Alright I gotta relax here. I mean i'm not thinking straight. I'm starting to lose my buzz. I take a deep breath. Another. I tell myself that everything will be fine once I get properly caffinated. I'll sneak a smoke in while I wait for the connecting train. Meanwhile i'll just have to tough it out. Thank Baby Jesus I had the sense to make sure that I gave myself a 'happy ending' before I left for work this morning. Hot Tantric Demon Love burns on the memory replay.
"...one day it'll never stop raining and you'll know that it was the weatherman who did it!" That's old Schizo-Jesus again, picking back up where he left off. Everyone sighs in frustration.
"MOTHER FUCKER WILL YOU SHUT UP!" the beligerent student yells from across the cab.
The Goatee yucks some more.
"You show some respect to your elders!" Schizo Jesus warns her his little goblin face puffed up in self justification. The little student starts pushing her way to him, muttering the whole time about how she's going to kick his 'Bible ass once and for all'. People cheer her on with 'Go on girls' and 'You show 'em'. The others are egging on Schizo-Jesus with 'You gonna let her talk to you like that?" and "Uh-oh! Here come the Weather Woman now!". Everybodys been inconvenienced by a delay and the only acceptable retribution for time lost is entertainment through violence!
Ten minutes that's all you get. After that it's fuck you Rousseau and your social contract too!
Then a miracle. The last thing you'd ever expect.
The train actually starts moving. Everyone stops. Looks up. Looks out the window to confirm the passing of the scenery that conveys motion. Then they look back at each other and let out a subdued cheer. Suddenly the beligerent student is calm. So's Schizo-Jesus. Conversations start back up. Headphone music whispers around the cab. Cellphones are activated.
The Social Contract has been renewed!
That is until the train breaks down again two stops down.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2007-02-01 07:18 pm (UTC)dont get me wrong Im not an anarchist or even that in love with chaos, but the thought of those with no control destroyiong themselves amuses me to no end.
no subject
on 2007-02-01 07:36 pm (UTC)Schizo Jesus sounds awesome -- reminds me of the maniac with the Axe and mitosis pupils in the oft-under appreciated John Carpenter flick "In the Mouth of Madness" with the "He sees you..." bit.
~rl