Shall I jerk off?

[Mutualcode at aol.com]

Even to the backdrop of the fuguing Paranoids, it's still a lonely way to spend the evening, no? But wait, Oedipa, mid-orgasm, hears a full six (or so) quitar "voices" come fuguing in, but The Paranoids only play three... "So others must be plugging in." But who? Are they dressed in black?

All's well that ends well, and Oedipa, to Metzger's "Come back...Come on," does say "I will." Doesn't that echo the quintessential Shakespearean rag that the bard was always humming in the background of his works, and would later form the resolution of what would become "existential" in our own ragged century? What are equi-valent alternatives, after all is said and done, without the will to choose between them, but random background noise?

There's more to the slim volume of her world than Oedipa is aware of, no matter the choices she makes to set it straight. Pierce, even in his finite lifetime as Metzger confides, was (is?) unpredictable.

The neatly contained mutually exclusive choices given Oedipa- all four of them- just before the curtain drops, are not the whole of this story. 

Go there. Live There. Fish there...

better,
mutualcode