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‘A Rusk-level dream, Inc. A standard nobody-understands-me dream. The DMZ and Mermanization were incidental.’

‘There was a quality of loneliness to it, though. Unlike anything. To be screaming that I’m screaming for help instead of singing a show-tune and to have the wardens and doctors gathered around snapping their fingers and tapping their feet.’

‘Have I mentioned DMZ doesn’t show up on a G.C./M.S.? Struck tracked this down off an obscure Digestive-Flora footnote. It’s the fitviavi-mold base. If the stuff shows up at all it shows as a slight case of unbalanced yeast.’

‘I thought only girls got yeast.’

‘Inc, don’t be so fucking naïve. Data number two is Struck is halfway toward nailing down that this stuff’s original intent was to induce what they called quote transcendent experiences in get this chronic alcoholics in the like 1960s at Verdun Protestant Hospital in Montreal.’

‘How come everywhere I turn this fall now everybody’s suddenly mentioning Quebec in all kinds of radically different contexts? Orin’s calling with some protracted obsession about anti-O.N.A.N. Québecers.’

‘… Tavis up and announces Quebec are the lambs in this year’s fundraiser. Your Mum’s from Quebec.’

‘And then this term of all terms I take Poutrincourt’s insurgency class, which is basically a Québecathon.’.

‘Oh I definitely I’d suspect some kind of conspiracy or trap. It’s obvious everything’s pointing toward getting you in a cell belting out Mermanalia. Inc, I think your hinges are starting to squeak. I think this is what plateaux-hopping up to the top does to somebody. I think a meaningful transcendent DMZ-type non-uremic-fallout interlude before Tucson is just what the carpenter ordered, for the old hinges. Keep you from going back to just smoking that Bob Hope day in day out when the test’s up. Shit’ll kill your lungs. Shit’ll make you fat, soft, moist and pale, Inc. Seen it happen. You need something more than a 30-day cleanout. The tu-sais-qué could be just the reconfiguration you need to start branching out, leave the Bob Hope alone, find something you can take to college or the Show and not get paralyzed. Shit’ll paralyze you over time, Incblob. Saw it happen time and over, back in the neighborhood. Once-promising stand-up guys spending their lives in front of the TP, eating Nutter Butters and whacking off into an old sock. The shit-fairy moves in with luggage for an extended stay, Inc. Plus indecisive? You haven’t seen indecisive til you’ve seen a guy with little fat-titties slumped in a chair in his tenth year of nonstop Bob Hope. It’s not pretty. Incster my friend it’s not pretty at all. A transcendent experience with me and the Axhandle could be just what the hinges are squeaking for. Be around some other people for a change. Don’t make me sit there with just Axhandle babbling about Yale. Leave the Visine at home.’

‘Was it transcendent? The term in Struck’s literature? Or was it transcendental?’

‘ ‘s the difference for Christ’s sake?’

‘Mike, what if I said I’ve been moving toward more than just a month off.’

‘Abandon All Hope.3 This what I was talking.’

‘I mean maybe make a decision. Forever. What if it was that I was doing it more and more and it was getting less fun but I was still doing it more and more, and the only way to moderate would be to like wave a hankie at it altogether.’

‘I applaud. Some low-risk transcendentalism with me and the Human Hatchet could be just the impotence for this kind of like major re—’

‘But it’d be everything. Blue Flames, the odd ‘drine. If I do anything I know I’d go back to the Bob. I’d drop Madame Psychosis with you guys and all my firmest resolve would melt and I’d have the one-hitter out and be sniveling at you to spring some eternal Hope on me.’

‘You’re so naïve, Inc. You’re so sharp in one way and such a little bald little fat-legged baby in the woods in others. You think you’re just going to go Here I go, deciding, and reverse total thrust and quit everything?’

‘What I said was what if.’

‘Hal, you are my friend, and I’ve been friends to you in ways you don’t even have a clue. So brace yourself for a growth-spurt. You want to quit because you’re starting to see you need it, and —’

‘That’s exactly it. Peems, think how horrible that’d be, if somebody needed it. Not just liked it a great great great deal. Needing it becomes a whole separate order of… It seems horrific. It seems like the difference between really loving something and being —’

‘Say the word, Inc.’

‘Because you know why? What if it’s true? The word. What if you are? So the answer’s just walk away? If you’re addicted you need it, Hallie, and if you need it what do you imagine happens if you just hoist the white flag and try to go on without it, without anything?’

‘You lose your mind, Inc. You die inside. What happens if you try and go without something the machine needs? Food, moisture, sleep, O2? What happens to the machine? Think about it.’

‘You were just now applauding the idea of Abandoning All Hope. You were just invoking an image of me with breasts, masturbating into laundry, with cobwebs between my ass and a chair.’

‘That’s the Bob. I didn’t hear me say everything. If you need the Bob, Inc, you can only quit the Bob if you move onward and up to something else.’

‘Harder drugs. Just like those old filmstrips about pot opening the door to larger drugs, where Jiminy Cricket —’

‘Oh fuck you. It doesn’t have to be harder. It just has to be something. I know guys quit heroin, coke. How? They make the strategic move to a case a day of Coors. Or to methadone, whatever. I know hard-drinking guys Inc that got off the booze by switching to the Bob Hope. Me myself, you’ve seen, I switch all the time. The trick is the right switch for a man’s wiring. I’m saying a real cobweb-blaster with me and Axford after the Fundraiser could help you get some serious perspective, cut the babytalk and sweeping bullshit decisions there’s no way you can do and start getting a real handle on how you’re going to branch out away from this Bob thing, which I applaud the getting away from the Bob for you, Inc, it’s not your thing, you were starting to get that look of a guy that’ll end up with tits.’

‘So you’re in a very subtle way lobbying for a DMZ-drop by saying you don’t believe I could simply quit everything. Since you sure don’t plan to quit. With your left eye wobbling all over the place. You haven’t even quit the Tenuate. “Winners don’t ever have to quit” and all deLint’s little —’

‘I didn’t hear me say none of that. And I think you probably could quit it all. For a while. You’re not a pussy. You’ve got balls, I know. I bet you could gut it out.’

‘For a while, you’re saying.’

‘And but what do you think would happen after a while, though? Without something you need?

‘What, you’re saying I’d grab my chest and keel over? Clutch my head in the middle of a Tap & Whack and die of an aneurism like that girl last year at Atwood?’

‘No. But you’d die inside. Maybe outside too. But what I’ve seen, if you’re the real thing and need it and just cut yourself off of it altogether, you die inside. You lose your mind. I’ve seen it happen. Cold Turkey they call it, the Bird. White-knuckling. Guys that’d just quit everything because they were in too deep and quit it all and just died.’