A Naked Singularity: A Novel (53 page)

I sat there stunned for longer than made any sense. Then I spoke to the attorney who had handled the case. Amidst his constant defensive reminders that his involvement with the case was over because the criminal charges had been dropped, I gathered the pertinent information I would need then left.

I went to Armando’s apartment, which was not far from the courtroom. He had rented this basement apartment, the kind with black bars on the windows, from an apostrophe-shaped elderly woman with severely thinning hair that formed a faint blue aureole around her deeply-creased face. She remembered me from when I helped Armando find the place and she let me in but only after assuring me forcefully that she never used the key otherwise. Except for Television the place looked oddly unlived in. I turned it on and sat on the couch. The couch I sat in was essentially a giant bean bag. It enveloped me, sealing me tight to its bosom. It was going to take a Herculean effort to get out of there so what was the rush? I lay there and thought about what needed to be done. Something had drawn me to that place. I looked at everything but Television. From where I sat, you could see the entire place. I didn’t see any papers, the kind of things I would gather for him. Nothing seemed urgent in that apartment and I wanted urgency.

Then I saw a plant, in a lonely corner and browning in its dirt-colored pot. I peeled myself off the couch and went to it but somehow did nothing. Instead I went around gathering Armando’s meager belongings in a nylon bag I had found near the couch. When I was done the place was a true shell but there was still the matter of the plant.

I didn’t know when, if ever, it would get water again. I grabbed a huge Scooby Doo cup from the sink and filled it up. Then I went over to the plant and poured the water in. It felt as if old Scoob would never run out of water as I kept pouring and pouring, slaking the plant’s thirst. Then before I had a chance to adjust, the water swelled the soil over the lip of the pot and onto the floor. And I should have cleaned up but I didn’t, I just grabbed the bag and split.

I went to the landlady’s side door to return the keys. After opening the door only slightly the visible portion of her face registered surprise, as if we hadn’t just spoken, but then it all seemed to click and she extended a withered hand to accept the return. I told her Armando might not be around for a while and not to worry. I wondered when the rent was next due. As for the hot dog, I would be back to get it later if necessary but frankly I had no way of driving that furter just then. All this made her want to know things but I was done sharing and blew her off. Before leaving I told her there was a plant in the apartment. Would she mind going in there once in a while and feeding it water; even if it was just enough to ensure its continued life? There was a Scooby Dooby Doo cup in the sink she could use for that purpose.

I didn’t sleep another seventeen hours that night it just felt that way. On my old bed in my mother’s house like the squirt I used to be but covered with a guilt I never felt back then.

The next afternoon I was back in Brooklyn Heights and all that remained of the day was a dull orange sliver peeking out over the horizon. I sat in my apartment but it was that annoying time of the day where it’s too early to just tune out until you fall asleep but it’s also too late to commit to any real activity.

In place of activity I went downstairs to Angus’s; maybe hopeful that Traci would be there. She wasn’t, but the apartment’s usual three inhabitants were. Angus was watching Television, his mouth drooping slightly and his eyes darting sideways.

TELEVISION
: . . .
hardy, har, har. That’s funny Alice. I hope they like those jokes on the moon cuz that’s where you’re going!

Louie and Alyona were working on a pizza from opposite ends and threatening to meet in the middle.

“Casi, what’s up?” one of them said. “Come on in.”

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” I said.

“Interrupting what?” Alyona said. “Just having pizza man, have some.”

“No thanks, I was actually concerned I might be interrupting Angus who I can see is still engaged in his Honeymooners quest.”

“Not at all,” said Angus. “We’re well past the stage where outsiders can in any way interfere.”

“We?” I said and turned towards the pizza, “You two are involved in this now I gather?”

“No,
we
meaning me and Ralph,” answered Angus.

“I see.”

“You see I no longer have to pay constant attention to Ralph to make him real. Just as Louie, for example, doesn’t need my undivided attention in order to continue living. I’m not saying we’re there yet, I’m just saying that far less effort is required on my part at this stage.”

“Uh huh,” I looked at Louie and Alyona for some clue but neither would meet my eyes.

Zzzzzt!

“What—”

“Did you hear about Tula?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“What’s going to happen to those kids?” said Louie. “Can they fry them that young?”

“No, there’ll be no frying. You have to be eighteen here.”

“Jesus, Lou,” said Alyona, “even if that wasn’t the case, what are you talking about? Are you nuts? They’re seven-year-olds!”

“Weren’t too young to kill that baby’s all I know,” said Louie.

“It’s not their fault. Blame the parents,” said Alyona.

“Blame someone,” said Louie. “That’s all I’m saying. Tula’s mother’s going to want someone to pay, that’s for sure.”

“What does Traci think about it?” I said.

“Non sequitur anyone?” Angus said.

“Just gathering opinions,” I said

“Traci? I don’t know what she thinks about it because she dropped my ass after I didn’t show that time.”

“Really? You crushed?”

“Not at all. I mean she was cool and everything but we never really connected or anything if you catch my drift. No biggie, her loss. There are a lot of Tracis in the sea man. I’m currently looking into a two-for-one-type-deal actually. She wasn’t even that hot to be perfectly honest.”

“Good. I’m going to call her.”

“Call her? What for?”

“For talk.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? She dumped me.”

“Exactly, think I’d call her if you two were still together?”

“Are you fucking with me? How’d you get her number?”

“I didn’t, you’re going to give it to me.”

“No can do dude. Man, you would call her? I thought we were friends.”

“You just got done saying how she means nothing to you. Reference to the fact that there exists a multitude of Tracis was, I believe, explicitly made.”

“That’s different, you’re talking about going behind my back to hook up with a girl I’m still in the process of getting over.”

“Where’s the behind your back part? I’m asking
you
for the number. Listen, just say that you were full of shit before. That there is only one Traci, and that her exit was a loss. Say that it would hurt you if I called her and I’ll say I won’t call her.”

“It would hurt me if you called her.”

“Then I won’t call her.”

“Meanwhile what are you laughing at?” Louie said looking at Angus; “because it’s five minutes after seven and the deal was you would put something different on at seven.”

“Oh yeah right. How’s this? Acceptable?”

“Perfectly so.”

“Thought you might say that.”

TELEVISION
:
All advertising, all the time
.

“Yeah baby” said Louie shining bright.

“What is this now?” I said.

“Great new channel dude!” His enthusiasm and smile meaning to tell me that our little moment of tension was already well-forgotten. “
AD
TV it’s called. Alls it is is all commercials all the time, no other programming. They’ve cut out the middle man. Isn’t it great?”

“Whose commercials run on the channel?”

“Everyone’s dude. Every company or precept you can think of. Every commercial, current, past, even future!”

“Why would anybody watch?”

“Are you kidding?”

“Well, okay. Why would anyone
besides you
ever watch?”

“I watch,” said Angus. “I enjoy it, but I also feel I have a moral obligation to watch.”

“You have a moral obligation to hear a sales pitch?”

“Absolutely. After everything Television’s done for you? When I walk into a store and plunk down hundreds for Nikes do you really think I’ve been snookered? Someone as sapient as me? I don’t buy the Nikes because I’ve been deluded into thinking they’re going to make me jump higher or make me look cooler. I haven’t been duped into an acquisitive desire at all. I buy them to express my gratitude to Television. I buy all those things shown on the screen to allay the guilt I feel over not repaying a dear friend who has given me so much. After the endless hours of entertainment and love Television has given me, the least I can do is buy the little products it wants me to buy. That’s how I show my support. And watching
AD
TV, when I’m not busy with the Honeymooners, is more by way of support.”

“Forget that,” said Louie. “Look here’s a true classic from the middle ages! See that? First the problem has to be established. This poor dumb sap is wearing a shirt that has not been appropriately laundered and is therefore soiled in a visible area. Here comes the penalty. See how he’s being rightfully ostracized by those who would otherwise be dear friends? Now the problem has to be given a name, but not just any name, a name catchy enough to stick in the head of the human wallet that’s watching. There it is:
Ring Around the Collar
. You have to love it. It doesn’t get any more lyrical than that. Now comes the rescue. Back then, the rescuer was always another person but even so the rescue always came in the form of the true hero, the product. See? She’s telling his wife about Wisk. Now they show the product at work as a celestial voice, in this case the great Bob McFadden, takes over the narration. Finally, we get the closing shot of heaven. You see? Collars don’t come any cleaner than that. Look at the expression of joy on the wearer and the unconditional acceptance from his peers. Then a final shot of Wisk. Forty-five seconds tops. Beautiful seconds. That, my friends, is true art.”

“What did you mean when you said it was an ad from the middle ages?”

“Beautiful right Casi? Art right?”

“Yeah beautiful, what did you mean?”

“Huh?”

“Middle ages?”

“Yeah, that was an ad in the seventies.”

“How’s that middle ages?”

“Oh right. I should explain.”

“No, not again. I’m actively begging,” said a seemingly pained Alyona.

“I know you’ve heard it before but he hasn’t. He also deserves exposure to my wisdom does he not? It’s simple Casi. Television advertising can be broken down into three separate stages. The early years, which consisted of really straightforward stuff like Jack Paar saying he uses Right Guard or whatever and it’s good for such and such reasons, spans from the invention of Television to maybe the mid-sixties. Note that in this era it was still considered important to at least pay lip service to logic by, for example, listing positive features the product allegedly had. The middle ages, from which we just saw probably
the
classic example, takes us from there to the eighties and mostly features adherents to these mini-narratives. What we have now, of course, is nothing short of a golden age where man has achieved near-transcendental technique and skill that bypasses altogether the need to supply information. It may even seem, as some have argued, that there’s no more development to be had. But most are confident that a few pioneers will emerge to develop the field even further. I of course plan to be one of them.”

“You plan to be one of the people who’s confident that pioneers will emerge?”

“No, wiseguy, I plan to be one of the pioneers.”

TELEVISION
: . . .
call 1-800-PLASTIC for a free consultation
.

“Hey I know her,” I said. “I went out to dinner with her about a week ago.”

“She’s hot.”

“She better be, she’s selling good looks,” said Angus.

“Good point,” said Louie.

“That’s a lot of noses,” said Angus

“Sure is,” said Louie.

“Some of these before-noses don’t look so bad. In fact, a lot of them seem perfectly fine,” said Angus.

“Beautiful,” said Louie.

“I don’t know that I would go so far as to say they’re beautiful but they do look fine.”

“No, the noses aren’t beautiful. The advertising technique is beautiful. This is what I mean about how far we’ve come. Here is a commercial which is clearly a low-rent piece of crap not even worthy of being on this channel. Nonetheless, even this pedestrian effort obeys established advertising stratagems that would have seemed amazingly nuanced as little as ten years ago. Of course the before-noses look fine. If they didn’t, if they were obviously flawed, you the viewer might be able to distance yourself from the patients. Instead, the idea is that you, the viewer, will look at your nose differently after seeing this ad. In other words, you thought your nose was fine, never gave it a second thought, until you saw this ad and saw all these noses that look similar to yours, maybe even better, being labeled before-noses in need of repair. The advertising doesn’t address a need, it creates it. It is self-sustaining.”

Zzzzt!

“What the—”

“You must have fallen in love with her, she’s gorgeous.”

“No.”

“She’s not?”

“I didn’t fall in love with her. Didn’t even fall in like.”

“You going to see her again?” asked Louie.

“No. You’re free to call her, want her number?”

“Funny.”

“She’s famous now too,” added Angus.

“Yes, among the literally hundreds of
AD
TV viewers.”

“It’s something. Though nowhere near the level of fame I will soon achieve.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I say nowhere near the level of fame.”

“I heard you,” I said.

“I will soon achieve.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t you want to know—

“No.”

—how?”

“No.”

“Really?”