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1.
IT’S IN THE LAST CHAPTER GREAT BOOKS BURN BRIGHTEST
I should know this. After a three-month stint in a dead woman's apartment
I accumulated a number of grocery store novels. By the time the first
snow fell, I was living in a loft on the top floor of an enormous historical
factory at the far east end of Williamsburg, Brooklyn. We had a fireplace.
The irony of burning books is that no man can build a nest egg when the
pipes are freezing. Then again, if you want to make an omlette,
2. ENDANGERED SPECIES TASTE BETTER
Just recently a team of scientists discovered an untouched Eden deep in
the Indonesian jungle. The team recorded new butterflies, frogs, and a
series of remarkable plants that included five new palms and a giant rhododendron
flower, not to mention a few primitive egg-laying mammals. Not even local
villagers were aware of this untouched bubble. What’s funny is that
more species of animals and plants were wiped from the planet in the very
time it took scientists to name their new discoveries after themselves.
In fact, it wasn't even a close race.
What could this mean?
In the time it took man to climb down from the trees, we were able to
hold on to our general sanity, or so I assume.
We formed families and bonds with those we knew and could live with, and
our own prosperity was further realized with the well-being of those around
us. A few thousand years later we found ourselves living in communities
of hundreds or thousands, which put a further stress in our social existence.
We no longer knew the names in our communities, and were forced to despise
equally huge communities on the fringes of our claimed territories as
enemies, competitors, imposters, and inferiors.
But things kept getting bigger, and we began to mistrust those in our
own communities whom we’d never had the chance to meet. As we grew,
we divided, and divided ourselves in our own minds as well. We explored,
and when we thought we were through exploring we created. We created schizophrenia,
and a long list of entertaining phobias.
From the mistrust and unease of a culture that did not come naturally,
we veered from reality and started our own pursuits.
Today we have dreamers, Trekkies, painters, and football enthusiasts purely
because we are also racists, economists, separatists, and neurotics.
The Human Zoo puts a canvas in every man's head.
3. HOW MUCH IS THAT?
Think about this. Six hundred years ago, the komodo dragon was a big lizard
who would eat your livestock, cripple your horse, and screw with your
trash. Today, it is the subject of the world’s greatest culinary
artists.
I'm always getting ahead of myself. Let’s go back to Rome.
4. PONTIFICATING OVER AQUEDUCTS: A PUN
The Roman Empire was a fierce Big Brother that provided aqueducts, plumbing,
economic infrastructure, and global trade to a number of victimized communities,
adding to the general confusion of modern man. No longer could we hate
our neighboring communities, because we had too many neighbors on our
own block to worry about. We had to hate a majority of them too.
As we “Americanize” the world with the labors of our own growing
population of impovershed, one can only think of Nero with his fiddle.
I always hoped things would end during the Clinton Administration, because
the tenor saxophone on Bill’s lips would have easily summed up the
final days of the 20th century. I know he doesn’t have the best
chops but  people
like him.
When will a dinner of democracy cast a larger bill then the world's largest
monitor lizard?
5. THE KING LOVES A GOOD MIME SHOW
Until World War II, the rich have always driven the direction of the art
world. Now don't forget that art is a product of our growing issues with
living. Kings or dukes would have portraits done, fountains built, and
church glass stained. It wasn't truly until the Second World War, with
the military progress in industrialization and mass production, that the
lower classes of the world became consumers of art. It's also important
to notice, that the growing distress amongst the relations of the world’s
countries was a driving force in imagination. Countless dead, gas masks,
and confrontations of mortality on a large scale sent veterans and victims
into a bleak world with more ideas and concepts then possibly ever before.
Imagine if Jackson Pollock had debuted his work in 1832, or even 1492.
I'm sure he would have hung for his foolishness. If he came out today,
he would have been trapped in a world of wrapping paper, novelty napkins,
and shower curtain prints. Luckily, he found a much more eager audience
in the 20th century, and happily hung himself in the only appropriate
modern American way: drunk driving with an under-age blowjob.
6. ASK NOT WHAT YOU CAN DO FOR WAR, BUT WHAT WAR CAN DO FOR YOU!
North Korea gave us “M*A*S*H,” Vietnam gave us acid rock,
Somalia made Bob Saget and the Olsen twins a household name, and the first
Iraq War came with a trading card set. Yet it was a prolonged Cold War
that finally developed a moon landing, “Seinfeld,” velcro,
“X-Files,” chia pets, “The Simpsons,” and an array
of quality HBO programs.
It took two wars in the Middle East to cancel “Sex in the City.”
When the World Trade Center fell, the whole country went and bought Rod
Stewart’s oldies album. It quickly hit number one on the charts,
just as a record number of cable programs were canceled in their first
season. That brings us to where we are today, sitting in an expensive
restaurant with an empty wallet, salivating over a plate of BBQ komodo
dragon.
7. THE FINAL COURSE HITS THE FIRE
When the waiter brings us the lizard, we will pick up our fork and knife
and utter no prayer. We no longer chew our food twenty times and swallow,
for the flavors we seek don't stir in our mouth, they stir in our mind.
Every single day we eat another one, more quickly than before, but the
experience carries more meaning. The last chapter of a book that will
never entertain us as much as the first time we burned it.
Thank goodness the world is filled with books for burning.
It's 2007 and we are surviving in a world with out Polaroid cameras. Our
apocalyptic fantasies now rest on the wings of a chicken while video games
kill the cinema stars. HR Geiger remains bound to new calendars, and Stephen
King has been sitting on Poe for decades.
8. BACK IN MY BROOKLYN SMOKESTACK
When the pages finally burned, we were left with a stack of book covers.
Most were colorful and glossy, burning green and plum when mistakenly
tossed in the pit. The smoke would permeate the loft, waiting for idle
eyes to imagine the ashes of their contents.
This is our fuel. The book cover without a book. The bear rug on our floor,
the komodo on our plate. Fried potato skins.
A full stomach with the taste of mediocrity lingering in our mouths. This
isn’t a bad thing. It’s a very old thing.
It’s the root of everything not yet undone. We have plenty of books
to write to keep ourselves warm, but at some point we are going to need
something new.
If only we could hit North Korea again, maybe someone will finally figure
out holograms. Burning those is going to be a bitch, but I'm looking forward
to it.[B]
JEFF BURNS
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