Stone Towers Of Silence
Lauren had walked off the job and then something very strange happened, a bunch of lunatics evaporated themselves over the pyramids of Capitalism; the World Trade Center in New York collapsed over what was a brilliant attack if equally perverse and absurd. The rebels had struck the golden archers of the empire, there was nothing but fury to rip from it all, and surely the world would know then what it was all about; but of course there was no meaning behind the whole event, for neither foe knew of each other but more fatal they didn’t even know themselves.
At one end of the ring the Muslim extremists, willing to partake in savage attacks so as to denounce the supposed Great Evil Empire, but how evil was it compared to Arab civilization that had squandered its own history in vitriolic feuds not brave enough to be called wars, it was all battles, never ending skirmishes, feuding warlords mostly attacking their cousins; and these nomads were the people that were going to show the evil empire that it was wrong to be civilized; that to ware miniskirts and to allow the powerful feminine more control than she already had over all of them was an attack on Allah. “Cover yourselves women, cover yourselves!” The emblematic symbol of over-lordship draped in black from head to toe, her essence subdued that should make her equal to man, let her not own any property, let her have to walk next to us in her dark nights, that should put an end to our crushing desires that so enslave us.
Tick, tick, tick
Tap dancing, Lauren wasn’t thinking about the towers when the event occurred she was thinking of taking tap dancing classes, she had seen Fredstair doing it in a movie, she thought it didn’t look hard, kind of like skipping through water, she tried a few tripping sequences but hey, it was just the different thing to do, but then of course her movie was interrupted by the towers burning and then the bricks just kept on breaking through her television tube, one tower down, the burning horror, bodies jumping, two towers down the dying rescuers, the dying dying, and the wealth control towers of the nation and world buckling at the knees, the great and good had fallen.
The news pedaled on, a plane down in Pennsylvania, overtaken from flight by its business class passengers unwilling to share in the great jihad; then the pentagon, the nerve center, HQ, “flight 77 inbound,” hit on the shoulder blade, tick, tick, tick boom!
Then a president in flight, over here and there and everywhere not knowing if landing was the safe thing to do, he was teaching children about the importance of “reading” potatoe when a whisper in his ear rattled off “…nation under attack.” That takes time to grasp, perhaps he thought “what has gotten off here,” and then “what about the ranch?” and then that perplexive hit, “the ranch!” and that made him angry and he too went on a countering rampage. Quickly regaining his lost flight path and centering the nation at the crossroads of the axis of evil. “We will fight terrorism everywhere, here and there, in Iraq in Iran, in Syria in South Korea, in Pakistan, in North Korea, wherever and whenever and moreover beyond that.” And with that no-end-in-sight promise he pauses to ask for divine guidance, and after perhaps another whisper of destined assurance in his ear, he angers on, “the juggernaut is coming to your nightly news.” Reset in progress.
Tick, tick, tick
The world cringed for the world could not ignore all those documented victims; perhaps the towers had been faulty towers from the start, the architect didn’t seem that creative to the naked eye, people didn’t look up and say, “wow behold the world trade center,” and besides that they did fall; wasn’t it taken into account during the design phase, that two tall buildings right next to each other, killers of birds from all angles, were bound to be hit by planes too. “Clear the airspace”, the firebomb of airplane fuel put “done” with all that emancipating over-man architecture. But there were the victims and the angered friend and foe alike assimilated a resounding common cause, “we are with you Mr. President, we are with you and your nation Mr. President, today we are all Americans.”
Meanwhile in the trenches, roaring to fine tunes and lingering in the occult joy of cave dwelling, the great warrior extradited king, meandering the holes, whispering so that only the moles could hear, “victory is at hand, the great Satan has been brought to his knees, we are at the threshold of Armageddon, mount your battle swords, prepare your young ones and old ones for great suffering, the jihad is unfurling its wings, we are taking to the sky, we will dominate, we have revealed what the voice of god may guide, we have done a great deed today, this September 11th our faith has trounced many obstacles and flown into the heart of the great Satan. Kill them if they are anywhere, tick. Kill their assets, tick. Kill their police, tick, Kill their children, for sin is upon them all and we shall knot them and bind them and usher them away from our holy shrines; tick, let Armageddon begin with us here for only the unholy need fear Armageddon! Boom.
The holy terror was belching everywhere, the groom and bride were on separate mountains, and then, from the sky did rain fire and then from the desert sand did blast mortar fire, and the bullets whispered through the sandstorms, while resourcefully new ways to kill, destroy and mutilate were ingeniously found; deeper bombs, bombs that could dig up the earth, pilotless kamikazes and a new digitize battle field map, you could just look at the brilliant pebbles in the air and they would tell you who or what was threading on you. Everywhere the sand pebbles had eyes, and everywhere you could hide, because you were in the middle of nowhere.
“hello, hello,” and the air bled not a sound, you could only see the sun stir the sand by doing an old trick, heating it up.
At one end of the ring the Muslim extremists, willing to partake in savage attacks so as to denounce the supposed Great Evil Empire, but how evil was it compared to Arab civilization that had squandered its own history in vitriolic feuds not brave enough to be called wars, it was all battles, never ending skirmishes, feuding warlords mostly attacking their cousins; and these nomads were the people that were going to show the evil empire that it was wrong to be civilized; that to ware miniskirts and to allow the powerful feminine more control than she already had over all of them was an attack on Allah. “Cover yourselves women, cover yourselves!” The emblematic symbol of over-lordship draped in black from head to toe, her essence subdued that should make her equal to man, let her not own any property, let her have to walk next to us in her dark nights, that should put an end to our crushing desires that so enslave us.
Tick, tick, tick
Tap dancing, Lauren wasn’t thinking about the towers when the event occurred she was thinking of taking tap dancing classes, she had seen Fredstair doing it in a movie, she thought it didn’t look hard, kind of like skipping through water, she tried a few tripping sequences but hey, it was just the different thing to do, but then of course her movie was interrupted by the towers burning and then the bricks just kept on breaking through her television tube, one tower down, the burning horror, bodies jumping, two towers down the dying rescuers, the dying dying, and the wealth control towers of the nation and world buckling at the knees, the great and good had fallen.
The news pedaled on, a plane down in Pennsylvania, overtaken from flight by its business class passengers unwilling to share in the great jihad; then the pentagon, the nerve center, HQ, “flight 77 inbound,” hit on the shoulder blade, tick, tick, tick boom!
Then a president in flight, over here and there and everywhere not knowing if landing was the safe thing to do, he was teaching children about the importance of “reading” potatoe when a whisper in his ear rattled off “…nation under attack.” That takes time to grasp, perhaps he thought “what has gotten off here,” and then “what about the ranch?” and then that perplexive hit, “the ranch!” and that made him angry and he too went on a countering rampage. Quickly regaining his lost flight path and centering the nation at the crossroads of the axis of evil. “We will fight terrorism everywhere, here and there, in Iraq in Iran, in Syria in South Korea, in Pakistan, in North Korea, wherever and whenever and moreover beyond that.” And with that no-end-in-sight promise he pauses to ask for divine guidance, and after perhaps another whisper of destined assurance in his ear, he angers on, “the juggernaut is coming to your nightly news.” Reset in progress.
Tick, tick, tick
The world cringed for the world could not ignore all those documented victims; perhaps the towers had been faulty towers from the start, the architect didn’t seem that creative to the naked eye, people didn’t look up and say, “wow behold the world trade center,” and besides that they did fall; wasn’t it taken into account during the design phase, that two tall buildings right next to each other, killers of birds from all angles, were bound to be hit by planes too. “Clear the airspace”, the firebomb of airplane fuel put “done” with all that emancipating over-man architecture. But there were the victims and the angered friend and foe alike assimilated a resounding common cause, “we are with you Mr. President, we are with you and your nation Mr. President, today we are all Americans.”
Meanwhile in the trenches, roaring to fine tunes and lingering in the occult joy of cave dwelling, the great warrior extradited king, meandering the holes, whispering so that only the moles could hear, “victory is at hand, the great Satan has been brought to his knees, we are at the threshold of Armageddon, mount your battle swords, prepare your young ones and old ones for great suffering, the jihad is unfurling its wings, we are taking to the sky, we will dominate, we have revealed what the voice of god may guide, we have done a great deed today, this September 11th our faith has trounced many obstacles and flown into the heart of the great Satan. Kill them if they are anywhere, tick. Kill their assets, tick. Kill their police, tick, Kill their children, for sin is upon them all and we shall knot them and bind them and usher them away from our holy shrines; tick, let Armageddon begin with us here for only the unholy need fear Armageddon! Boom.
The holy terror was belching everywhere, the groom and bride were on separate mountains, and then, from the sky did rain fire and then from the desert sand did blast mortar fire, and the bullets whispered through the sandstorms, while resourcefully new ways to kill, destroy and mutilate were ingeniously found; deeper bombs, bombs that could dig up the earth, pilotless kamikazes and a new digitize battle field map, you could just look at the brilliant pebbles in the air and they would tell you who or what was threading on you. Everywhere the sand pebbles had eyes, and everywhere you could hide, because you were in the middle of nowhere.
“hello, hello,” and the air bled not a sound, you could only see the sun stir the sand by doing an old trick, heating it up.
posted by Ricardo Correa at
8/31/2006 05:18:00 PM
