Trout's Tale Continues

When I Began This Book, Climate Change Was Already Going On And Some People Thought We Were Actually Headed Toward A New Ice Age Long Before The Day After Tomorrow Was Even A Script

Chapter 4

Some brief biographical sketches are required to prepare the reader for the bleak conclusion to this grim history. “Conclusion” is not meant to imply any judgment is likely to be found here — time is short, too short to expect respite to reflect upon, reorder, or revise this presentation. The deadline demon often barges in and plops down on the CRT. “Hi,” he’ll say, taking his seat, “Anybody sitting here?”

The Palace still stands. The surface temperature in southwestern Missouri is a balmy 33° below zero. No new deaths have been reported during the past twenty-four hours. The commandos remain at large, armed and dangerous, but the atmosphere in the Palace this evening is one of resigned optimism. This is a preprogrammed day of celebration, and the normal inhabitants of this grave new world, including the Life Protector, are at this moment gathered in the Civic Auditorium to hump and boogie to the Palace disco band, a Wurlitzer jukebox.

Molded into the concrete above the forged steel doors of the Civic Auditorium are these words: 

God Grant Me the Serenity  To Accept the Things I Cannot Change Courage to Change the Things I Can And Wisdom Always to Tell the Difference

On the strong metal doors, one of the commandos has crudely sprayed, in lurid, luminescent letters the following graffiti: UP YOUR A, EH?

Beyond these clashing messages, the First Annual Safety-In-Numbers Ball is in progress. Being there, you might hear portions of several conversations:

“So I tell her — if God had wanted us to go naked, He wouldn’t have given us clothes.”

“All he ever wants to do is screw and eat … or vice versa.”

“I knew this guy once…”

“Oh, you mean Wayne. The insurance salesman.”

***

That the author paints his history with “grim” and its conclusion with “bleak” should in no way lessen the impact of his perceptions. Idi Amin Dada has not eaten for three days. Now and then, someone at the bar glances over a shoulder, as if to the sound of the bar door opening, as if prepared to say: “Hey, man, long time no see.”

That “grim” and “bleak” have been chosen by the author to qualify this history and its conclusion should only suggest to the impressionable reader the aimless ambiguity of his tale, the torture of its telling, and his deadening despair at the inability of the audience to understand his need to tell it.

It is not that every time he says: “None of this makes any sense,” someone answers: “Why are you so negative all the time?” It isn’t that he doesn’t believe the Aldo Ray could work. It’s not even that the others gathered here tonight in the Civic Auditorium cannot read or write — for while this may be an irrefutable fact, he chooses to ignore its implication. He already came close to abandoning his project altogether while trying to prove Paul Bare was the father of Materex. He has come to suspect his subjects are unwitting accomplices in a crime which has yet to be identified or named.

He merely wishes to point out his confusion at finding himself the only person in attendance with paper and pen. Rapid Ray, wet rag in hand, lifting an ash tray and wiping the counter beneath it, has just leaned over the counter and said: “What the fuck you writing now?”

“A letter,” the author told him, experiencing the vague dread of having been discovered recording his thoughts on paper, “Just a letter.”

“A letter!” Rapid Ray guffawed, tapping the author’s forehead with an iced mug, “That’s ripe! Who the fuck you gonna to send it to?"

—30—

Epilog In Media Res

It occurs to me that some straggler might want to read all of Trout’s Tale in its God-given order, assuming I live long enough to publish all of it. I guess I could start another stack and publish it in order there, but where’s the fun in that?

Instead, what I’ve currently decided to do is add this epilog as an index to previous posts in the order in which they were not written, but in the most recent order they have appeared in the Hall of Records. Links will become active as new URLs are generated.

Pataphysics is the science of imaginary solutions.

Trout’s Tale thus far…

Frontal Matter And Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33