|
Did You Never Ask... Through the Looking Glass Remix by Nat Boreun
Damn! The horse was finished.
The lonesome cowboy had taken the saddle and loaded it onto his shoulder, starting to walk down the stony road. After having fought slavery in the Secession War, fought with Villa in the Mexican Revolution, with Castro in Cuba, and with the Marines in Cambodia, and saving the major panda from extinction, he obtained the rights to make a film in direct reflection about his actual life.
All while was serving as the Guide for the Redskins groups into Yosemite Park.
After a little walking, he saw on the side of the road a black boy; he looked like Eddy Morphine, just a little thinner, and with a slightly swollen belly like the African children for the hungry in the television ads.
"Hi," he was saying to him, "Are there some problems? What are you doing here?"
The black boy didnt move, even when he opened his eyes, he just moved his mouth.
No problems. I'm working for Humanity. I'm the Times Door Guardian, and I have to monitor Time so that it elapses in just one direction, preserving everybody, also you by the Kaos."
The cowboy looked around. Were they filming a 'candid camera' without his permission? He spoke again to the boy, "But are you crazy? I don't see any door!"
The young Guardian, always motionless, replied, "If you're speaking with me, you've already exceeded the Door. Then, you're speaking my language."
The cowboy didn't understand him. He knew just the English. Dont try to muddle me up, YOU are speaking MY language!"
The black boy answered, "It's impossible, I speak none."
A crazy one in my area of park, the cowboy thought, what trouble!
At that very moment he heard behind him the horn of a car and, between an incredible cloud of dust, arrived his agent Crazy Horse of the Paris Tribe, with his twenty-four topless girls, in a dark blue Corvette. He stopped by his side and said, "Hey! Leap on, they are waiting for us in town for the show! And don't waste your time with this guy, he would not convince even his mother.
They started to drive away and the cowboy turned back to see if the black boy was still there. The Guardian had lifted up the edge of his inferior garment, so he that he could see his smooth, sexless groin. This upset the Cowboy.
In a few minutes they arrived in Adidas-Abeba where they were welcomed by a sumptuous scenography. He didn't know what it was, but his agent had always obtained for him excellent contracts; therefore he came down by the car and smiled, manly, as befit his character. The serious part of the ceremony was constituted by the presence, beside the Head of the State negus Tournè Selassiè I, of Coffee Hamman, which, representing the United Nations was wanting to give a tangible mark of the Industrialized World to the Afar population, in the ambit of the duty of them against the desertification. Specifically, an engagement in the struggle against the one of the Denakil. It would have been given to them, the manliness of the hero symbol of the Western culture: The lonesome cowboy.
When was given the announcement, it was welcomed by a thunder of applause. He, however, not being very cultured, knew that it was an ugly moment. He ran to his agent for an explanation; the agent had extracted from the trunk of his car a pump-adjustable barber chair and had prepared that, ready to use.
The cowboy said, agitated, "Why didn't you tell me about it? They want to castrate me, having no right to do so!"
In reply, his agent took and bound him to the pumpable chair, saying, derisory, "Why, R.L.Stevenson, when between writing a book and another, you went hunting the Redskins' scrotums for the Railroad Companies, was it of your right then to do so?"
He protested, "But, I'm not R.L. Stevenson. I am L.R. Stevenson!"
The agent then replied, This is not a good excuse!
The producer Steven Speedberg, who was coordinating the ceremony, announced that before the 'clou' of the afternoon, would have been read the description of the Ethiopic traditional technique of emasculation, so like it was described in the original notebook of an Italian explorer of XIX century. Being not vacant Leopardo da Vinci, who was pledged with Jean Cocktò and Andy Drella in the trial to restore the Coptic Church of Lalibela, he's allowed to invite his great friend and filmmaker Roberto Favorables.
Roberto entered smiling and joking as in his style, screaming, Life is beautiful!"
The Cowboy, who in the meanwhile was carried by the topless girls, always bound to the barber chair at the center of the stage, answered him, "Fuck off!"
"What a nice one!" replied the Italian producer, he joked a little on about the mishaps of Italy in this zone, during the Colonial Ages, then declared to want to present the African people of the Italian ancient traditional culture, reciting all his preferred part of the Divine Comedy by Dante: the Paradise. Speedberg blocked him, saying that the Afar didn't like to let their women alone for so long time. So he read the piece, translating in his cheerful English, cramming it with jokes of his own, then bowed and left the square.
The word was given to Barbra Nosand, Godmother of the happening, Mistress of Ceremonies or MC. After have kissed and put the omens for his brand new life, to the lonesome Cowboy, she declared officially that, even if the Afar would want to provide themselves at the emasculation, one could not profit by the presence of the new greatest benefactor of the humanity, giving him the honor to operate.
Ladies and gentlemen, B.G.! He did a small speech about his intentions, now that he was as rich as a medium-sized European country, to fight the poverty in the world. Then he approached the hero, who began to agitate and struggle, taking exception to his manly dignity.
B. tried to ease him. "They're so distant, it will be enough they see a little bit of blood."
The topless girls opened his pants and B. said, satisfied, "Well! You're not circumcised, it will be enough to satisfy those simpletons."
The cowboy did not seem calmed. "And my reputation, we are in World Vision and the whole planet will believe I'm truly gelded!"
B. replied, "This is not a trouble, I will create for you a space on the WEB, that will make vanish Bboy and the other capons." Editors note : Ahem
The circumcising operation was executed while the Hero was crying as a child and Speedberg was obliged to use some index material. The ceremony was sealed with an alcoholic toast and typical African songs. The lonesome Cowboy was liberating at the end; he, holding a bandage on the operated part, yelled, "You're bad, I will not play anymore!"
But they were all pawned in public relations and reciprocal compliments, and nobody, not even his agent has run up when he went away. Nobody except for Carl Lewis, who persuaded him yelling, "Wait, please wait. I would like to introduce you to some friends of mine, please..." but, a little one for the scarcity of training, a little one for the pin heels, he was not able to reach him.
The cowboy ran back along the same road from whence theyd come, running with his dick outside his pants, seeking to soothe the pain. When he passed before the Guardian again, not even the black boy ran up to him, but instead the Guardian opened his white eyes and laughed, showing two rows of thirty-two canines. He rose up and with the pole that he kept in his hand, he wrote on the dust of the road, to the left and to the right of the red bloody strip, left by the lonesome Cowboys bleeding wound : NORTH and SOUTH.
Lorenzo Reinaldo Stevenson is awakened when outside it is still darkness. He washed in the basin which contained the worn water of the evening before. He was ready for another fourteen hours long day of work, into his two square meters of ground, in Roraima, hoping it is the good day to find the biggest gold nugget of the world.
He went out and saw the only enlightened thing on the road, facing his hut: a playbill with the advertisement of an aftershave. There was a picture of Jimmy Dean with his big hat on his head, and a notice: Did you never ask yourself why, the lonesome Cowboy is lonesome?"
While lighting the first cigarette of a long day, he shook his head and thought by himself: "Good God! I've got to stop with the mushrooms."
|