V2-V, Part 1

[Joseph Tracy]

On Aug 11, 2010, at 1:04 AM, Joseph Tracy wrote:

>
>
> Why Puerto Ricans? I think another colonial reference. Why are they  
> helping Profane, the human yo-yo , dreaming of his own dissolution?

Must one , in some sense , be colonized to fight the empire's wars ?  
To join the military is generally to trade in the rights and normal  
responsibilities of a lawful citizen for a flag and a license to  
kill. Who are the baby alligators flushed down the NYC sewer system?   
And what kind of Angel works in this underground world? Weren't the  
cruel adjustments of the plastic surgeon another form of colonization?

Well actually the word is disassembly not dissolution, an examination  
of the entire mechanism both desired and feared. He wonders if there  
is something wonderful in there, the glorious true identity, the  
inner self.

      "Was it home, the mercury-lit street? Was he returning like the  
elephant to his graveyard, to lie down and soon become ivory in whose  
bulk slept, latent, exquisite shapes of chessmen, backscratchers,  
hollow open-work Chinese spheres nested one inside the other?"


Josefina Mendoza, Fina.   English translation: Fine. Why does she  
want to take him home? What does she see that he doesn't? Is there a  
repeated refrain here that love is a gift? That it comes , as it  
were, out of the blue, that  we are never really ready for it or  
worthy enough.  Are all men running from it? Why is the lonely  
Profane running away from this grace?

"He knew all at once: here, for the time being, Profane the schlemihl  
can move nimble and sure."

Here comes a riff on chance operations and choices. and another side  
of the Street.

	"Angel sighed. "There are so many," he said. "So many millions and  
millions of girls. Here in New York, and in Boston, where I was once  
and in thousands more cities... It makes me lose heart."
             "Out in Jersey too," said Profane. "I worked in Jersey."
             "A lot of good stuff in Jersey," Angel said.
             "Out on the road," said Profane. "They were all in cars."
             "Geronimo and I work in the sewers," Angel said. "Under  
the street. You don't see anything down there."
             "Under the street," Profane repeated after a minute:  
"under the Street."  "