AtDTDA: 18 Oh, I see. . . . [517]

[robinlandseadel at comcast.net]

[Helium inflected or varispeeded high-pitched singing]

                   "Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
                    represent, the Lollipop Legaue,
                    the Lollipop League, the Lollipop League,

                    and in the name of 
                    the Lollipop Leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeague

                    [moment for inhalation]

                    Weeeee wish to welcome you 
                    to Pynchonland!

[Showers of Amyls, garters and gas masks are tossed about in a celebratory 
fashion]

          "This smoke in here I've been breathing." said Kit, this wouldn't 
          be . . . um, hasheesh?"

          "Never heard of the substance," the holy person seeming offended. 
          [522]

Someone else noted how several types of different narratives were running 
parallel, but here get to the point where a 'real' [is to laugh] Pynchon novel 
gets under way. While I'd note that it's probably not about to get any real-er 
the mere presence of O.I.C. Bodine tells us: Hey!!! You're Reading A 
Pynchon Novel!!! Like Saturday Night Live's news for the hearing impaired.

          On a wire-backed chair, blunt hands picking quietly 
          at a guitar. sits an American sailor with an orangutan 
          look to him. In 3/4 time and shit-kicking style, he is singing:

                  The Doper's Dream
          Last night I dreamed I was plugged right in
          To a bubblin' hookah so high,
          When all of a sudden some Arab jinni
          Jump up just a-winkin' his eye.
          "I'm here to obey all your wishes," he told me
          As for words I was trying to grope.
          "Good buddy," I cried, "you could surely oblige me
          By turnin' me on to some dope!"
          With a bigfat smile he took ahold of my hand,
          And we flew down the sky in a flash,
          And the first thing I saw in the land where he took me
          Was a whole solid mountain of hash!
          All the trees was a-bloomin' with pink 'n' purple pills
          Whur the Romilar River flowed by,
          To the magic mushrooms as wild as a rainbow,
          So pretty that I wanted to cry.
          All the girls come to greet us, so sweet in slow motion,
          Morning glories woven into their hair,
          Bringin' great big handfuls of snowy cocaine,
          All their dope they were eager to share.
          Well, we dallied for days, just a-ballin' and smokin',
          In the flowering Panama Red,
          Just piggin' on peyote and nutmeg tea,
          And those brownies so kind to your head.
          Now I could've passed that good time forever,
          And I really was fixing to stay,
          But you know that
                                        jinni turned, t'be a narco man,
          And he busted me right whur I lay.
          And he took me back to this cold, cold world,
          'N' now m' prison's whurever I be . . .
          And I dream of the days back in Doperland
          And I wonder, will I ever go free?

          The singer is Seaman Bodine, of the U.S. destroyer 
          John E. Badass. . . .
          GR,  P. 375, V. 369, B. 430

. . . .which ought to serve as an interesting frame of reference,
but considering the entirely anachronistic bent of the good 
Seaman's song—sounds like 1969, if you wanna ask—his 'mere' 
presence increases the degree of fictiousness yet another notch, 
and he is, as far as we can tell, a catalytic agent for pure anarchy:

          "This is beginning to sound like a sea story," opined an American 
          stoker named O.I.C. Bodine, who lounged against a bulkhead 
          drinking some horrible fermented potato mash as prelude to 
          going off watch and into sleep.

          "Hey! I know you two—ye're the ones with all the strange Machinery, 
          sailing in the Seahorse. Well,—ye're in luck. for we're all Seahorses 
          here, I'm Fender-Belly Bodine, Captain of the Foretop, and these are 
          my Mates,—" Cheering. "—But you can call me Fender. Now,—our 
          plan, is to snatch this Critter. . . . [Mason & Dixon, pg. 21]

          A miasma of evil suddenly enveloped Profane from behind; an arm 
          fell like a sack of spuds across his shoulder and into his peripheral 
          vision crept a beer glass surrounded by a large muff, fashioned 
          ineptly from diseased baboon fur.

          "Benny. How is the pimping business, hyeugh, hyeugh."
          
          The laugh could only have come from Profane's onetime shipmate, 
          Pig Bodine. [V. pg. 6 Harper Perennial 2005]

              They are grinning at each other like fools. Their auras, for the 
          record, are green. No shit. Not since winter of '42, in convoy in a
          North Atlantic gale, with accidental tons of loose 5-inch ammo 
          rolling all over the ship, the German wolf pack invisibly knocking 
          off sisterships right and left. at Battle Stations inside mount 51 
          listening to Pappy Hod tell disaster jokes, really funny ones, the 
          whole gun crew clutching their stomachs hysterically, gasping for 
          air—not since then has Seaman Bodine felt so high in the good 
          chances of death. 
          Gravity's Rainbow, P. 729, v. 715, B. 833

          Bodine, O. I. C. (Officer in Charge)
          517; American stoker aboard the Stupendica; "O.I.C." is a U.S. 
          Navy abbreviation (and Marines too!) for "Officer in Charge." 
          Check this with Glossary of U.S. Naval Abbreviations website... 
          If you leave the "in" in the initialism, it becomes O.in.C. — 
          pronounced "oink!" 519. A-and if you say the initials out loud, 
          they become homonymous with the exclamation "Oh, I see." 
          Pynchon probably realized that old fans would look for Bodine 
          in the new novel, and the initials anticipate their reaction upon 
          encountering this old favorite: "Oh, I see Bodine!" (Though some 
          contributors are still trying to wrap their minds around the notion 
          of a Bodine who makes officer grade—surely this of all families 
          never spawned an officer!)

http://against-the-day.pynchonwiki.com/wiki/index.php?title=B

          Bodine, Pig
          14; AWOL former shipmate of Profane's on USS Scaffold; voyeur, 
          17; looking for Paola, 129; 217; "The Green Door. One night 
          Dolores, Veronica, Justine, Sharon, Cindy Lou, Geraldine and 
          Irvine decide to hold an orgy." 218; wants Paola, 221; 283; 
          Whole Sick Crew party, 287; 352; "life is the most precious 
          possession you have." (see also p. 12), 361; attempted rape of 
          Paola, 370; Pig also figures prominently in Gravity's Rainbow; 
          Pig's ancestor, Fender-Belly Bodine, shows up in Mason & 
          Dixon, and, perhaps, his father or uncle, O.I.C. Bodine makes 
          an appearance in Against the Day.

http://v.pynchonwiki.com/wiki/index.php?title=B

          The doorbell rang in the middle of the second movement and 
          Cindy came suddenly roaring downstairs like a small blond 
          terrier to answer it, managing to scowl at Flange and Rocco 
          before she opened the door. Standing there when she opened 
          it was what looked like an ape in a naval uniform, squat and 
          leering. She stared level at him aghast. "No," she wailed. 
          "You ugly bastard."

          "Who is it," Flange said.

          "It's Pig Bodine, is who it is," Cindy said, appalled. "After seven 
          years your big gaping idiot buddy Pig Bodine." 
          "Lowlands', in "Slow Learner", pg. 60