16-page or so pamphlet consisting of speculation about the true nature of snow, chemical and epiphenomenal information about a new and experimental drug, and highly damaging allegations about Secretary of State "Marco Rubio" (not his real name, as will become clear).
black-and-white, crudely typeset, with illustrations and maps.
here is a song about death as it picks you up from the corner of 10th & Thomas & sweeps you east in a smooth Elantra idling in fall
Chopin nocturne on satellite radio, clean black leather seats below - you shut the door, a leaf breaks free &falling catches on the breeze, the percs all hit, it’s 2005
& you’re nineteen again or you never were
you swim in blue check toward Caltech or wherever the fuck you are in your mother’s car
you can’t dance and everyone knows it; you can’t screw and nobody cares, as long as the drink is strong and they see you standing there
here is a verse about life, about Tonya and Cate and the broker’s wife who set you up with the Heritage and the Federalist and the Kochs.
with diamond seats to the Yankees game, diamond rings on those Yankee dames - it’s quite a tease, a life of ease, here is your dormroom, that’s your wife, kid, call her back because it’s 2005
& we’ve only been in Iraq for a year and a half, a year and a half’s time enough for your brother to knock up a Stanford classics Ph.D, & now they’re involved in the family insurance, they’re living in the old family place - back to Milwaukee like royal blood to the ancient estate
here is a line of cocaine and a sheaf of loans and a pistol with one round. every bullet has its billet, & pound for pound you were the best horseflesh in a hundred miles. your in-laws clapped but behind the smile there’s something fake - it’s in the way they wince and shift when you come sliding down the aisle but it’s 2005 and you’re still hot shit for a while
here is a word to the wise about wisdom and its uses: it’s useless. so lay back and close your eyes against the barrenness of time, get in your wife’s old dress & unwind, get high and pour some wine
cause you’ve hit the end of the line, the undone tie, your head bent back in reverie: it’s 2005!
but Colin Powell’s dead and gone, with Bush not far behind, wars unwon, father and son, undone a broker hits the brick
you had money to burn through, people who loved you in their way,in-laws dancing with your nephew in a frame up on the mantelpiece:
you fall - the coke makes your nose bleed, the blue suit’s seam is ripped & Blackrock’s got the house; gently now, think of how you worked so hard to build a life where for every bad thing there’s one good thing. here’s the good seats, here’s your gold ring, so hit the deck kid, and count your mission accomplished
jon is a normal guy who is a clerk at a normal type of store. he likes new age music and the beach. he has long hair, for now, but that could change, for instance if his hair were to get burned on the stove. that can happen at any time. he plays music.
This OST is superb in quality and feeling. You immediately get immersed in what the game wants to convey, but even if you never played the game (like me), if you close your eyes you can feel yourself floating in the endless space or in the depths of an ocean.
Fantastic work. Dimi Kaye