— Hilding darling, he whispered and held Hildings scabby hand against his sunken chest. I’m afraid I’ll be called home before we get the chance to mess around again. We could’ve had a good time,but you’ve gotten too fine for me. Now, now, he soothed when Hilding began to roar like a boar, you’re not long for this world, either. Be a good boy, Hilding, promise to take care of yourself.
We left Hilding Dahlgren foaming at the mouth and crawling across the floor with a nice piece by the GöingeGirls playing on the radio. The summer evening was soaked in sweat. Kåges air is always saturated with a primatefear. Grandpa unbuttoned his pants, squatted down, and took a shit. He caught the two gleaming sausages before they could drop, pulled up his pants and smeared the crap in some alamoder’s hairdo as she walked on by with her nose in the air. When she yelped, he suckerpunched her. Then we strolled on …
— You got a light? asked a skinny young drunk, and Grandpa doused him with ethanol and lit a match. We waited at the bus stop while he burned. Grandpa began to tell a story.
— It was a raw February morning in the Whoregod’s year of 1945, and me and Dirlewanger were partying in the orphanages ruins. “You know that Himmler’s balls taste like apricots, right?” he asked.
—“The fuck you say?!”
—“I swear. I heard about it when I served in” … But wait, is that Jalle driving the bus? He’ll probably make a pass at us. Hurry up, boy, let’s see if he’s hungry …
__________
Bauer and Beskow — John Bauer and Elsa Beskow were Swedish children’s book artists
ostisch and fälisch — East European and Phalian respectively, from Hans F. K. Gunthers studies on race
bwana Namnam — Jesus Christ
Udumus — a beast-man race that Jörg Lanz von Liebenfels identified on the Assyrian King Salmanassar’s black obelisk: hairy, half-stooped
Margot Wallström — former vice-president of the European Commission
My Life’s Novel — Mitt livs novell, literally “The Book of My Life,” a womens magazine in the 1970s that gave sex advice
Dzerzhinsky cough — hacking cough, named for Felix Dzerzhinsky, first director of the Soviet secret police
Kosken — Koskenkorva Viina, a clear Finnish spirit
Explorer — a popular Swedish vodka
Homoslyr — a pesticide
German hair — soft, pliable wooly hair is said to be German, in Sweden
Landrucognac, Kürtenvodka, and Druittgin — Henri Désiré, Peter, and Montagu, respectively: renowned killers of women; Druitt was even suspected of being Jack the Ripper
Tore Hedin — Sweden’s worst mass murderer
Folke Bernadotte — Swedish diplomat and nobleman
I gotta get my hair cut! — said Red Rudi Dutschke, reportedly, after Josef Bachmann sent three bullets into him in 1968
Schuvaloff — commander of a Russian army division that operated in Västerbotten in the war of 1808–1809
XX
The monthly mail had come … which annoyed Grandpa something fierce …
— Bunk and drivel … demands, threats, summons … collections and distraints … preliminary investigations and surcharges … seven thousand in back taxes … Flat-out rejection of my application to be fancyfree … A certificate from NAMBLA … a premature Christmas cards from Leuchter, Swaggart, and Schwarzkopf … and Gudrun Schyman …
He poured more Cheetos onto a Kefir plate and sprinkled them with Ajax. Then he continued ripping open his letters, already disappointed beforehand.
— Norstedts wants me to describe my longsufFering death … two million in advance … then ten thousand kroner a page … Extra bonus for ultraviolence and hypersex … The devils are asking for a “concise backwatter tone” … Who do they think they’re dealing with … Burroughs and Bukowski! Writings like masturbating without fingers … But look, I’m being honored for my article on Baudrillard and Bataille in Merkur and La Quinzaine littéraire … A white flag from the world’s Jews via Mordecai Gottleben … Anoffer of credit, three billion from Dai-Bitching Kangyo Bank … if I stop abusing Japs and Jews, that is … A check for twenty-five thousand, because I’m so sad and lonely … from the Sigrid Visent Memorial Fund for Indigent Bastards … The latest issue of Boy Butcher … Two books: Segev’s Soldiers of Evil, that’s about the worst concentrationcamp commanders, and Tankred Koch’s History of Executioners … Bonniers isn’t interested in my translation of the Bibliomystikon into Lappish … But here’s something nice … Gunnar sent a bunch of newly discovered bugs from the Upper Xingu River … Well look at them later …
Grandpa set the rhombusshaped piece of cardboard aside and sighed.
— An invitation from Michael Aquino and the Temple of Set … They want me to come to Wewelsburg and lead the ceremonies … I guess I could throw something together about the battle of the birch tree or something …AthankyoufromArtosPublishinginSkellefteå … “Without YOUR participation the collected Meister Eckhart sermons wouldn’t have been possible!” … blahblahblah! who the hell cares … They should’ve been nice and sent me a rosycheeked cherub instead … I could’ve played Tiberius and the little fish … that little game Suetonius gossiped about … The cops want my expert expertise on an investigation into sexual attacks on children … An inquiry about whether I want to defend my S&M title … An offer to lead a course called “Trashing the Swedish Language” … The usual private weekly update from Peter Arnett … And last and certainly least, a picture postcard from Astro Lindgren … “I don’t know where I am … life sucks and I’m scared..And here we have the latest diagnosis from the hospital … they’ve called in the bigguns from Jerrold Post’s Center for the Analysis of Personalityand Political Behavior to help them … I really worked up all the psychiatrists they sent to “help” me … They think I’m “an evil, phallic narcissist” with “necrophiliac tendencies” … A “schizophrenic solopsist” filled with “demonic rage, an insane thirst for revenge, and a wild contempt for the entire human race” … They talk about “total alienation,” “paranoid and sociopathic tendencies,” “sexual psychosis,” and “a fetishization of violence” … Poppycock and twaddle! … Up one side and down the other … contradictory bullshit … The only thing wrong with me is that I never got enough beatings or love …
Grandpa lit a Salem, took it out of his mouth, and stuffed in a horde of marzipanpiggies. He seemed apathetic and absent-minded. I slurped up the last of my oatmeal from the shallow bottom of my lucky plate. I’m not allowed to take milk or butter, but there was a little gunoil left, so I smeared it on a piece of sweetbread. Then I drank some Salubrin.
— Every letter, every telephone conversation, every visit, just another nail in my cross, Grandpa said, when he’d finally swallowed. People exist only to be corrupted and killed … I’ve spent my entire life leading the battle against humanity … The humananimal has had his time in the spotlight … Now he’ll have to eat what he’s puked up … He’s done the best he could … haircare and guidance on language usage … charters and therapies … cuntbrains … sisnadevas … orgasmaggregates … I’ll see their backs against the wall, I promise you that, Lustolito …
Grandpa exaggerates, but most of the time there’s something to what he says. Unfortunately, what came next made me want to laugh. Some say he’s fickle, but I don’t buy that … I know his game. He doesn’t always mean what he says.