Can’t tell a book by its cover (N4)

I’m feeling a bit frayed at the edges. Seriously. Remember, I’m not human, so things can happen to my body that don’t happen to real humans. I’ve got fringe and other ragged things coming off my arms and back, but I’m no monster. It might be a good idea to spend some time reading and calm down. Where’s the book I just had on my desk?

[Opens the book]

What’s going on? This isn’t a journal! It’s supposed to be a book. To read. To make me think.

All the pages are blank!

Maybe this is the book I’m supposed to write? Now, just when I’m frayed and fatigued, frustrated at how hard it is to tell the story you’ve been hearing? How can I even hold a pen in my hand, despite these long, slender, curving digits that can easily grip it? No matter, I’m taking a big breath and will figure it out…

Remember how I said when I first appeared that I would offer an antidote to Hank Karl and the damage he causes everywhere he goes? I haven’t told you how wide and deep that damage has been, and might never do that. You simply have to believe me that something must be done to stem the tide, then erase it forever. Here are some ideas, although admittedly they’re still in the draft stages. You’re welcome to help me develop them.

First, let’s consider that we’re in a dire situation and that Hank and his minions - well paid, which makes them very faithful - have zapped a lot of brain cells of a lot of people. Because that has happened, a lot of them are going around looking like figures from 1984. They look without seeing, speak with no meaning to their words - like dummies or robots, definitely missing many of the elements that make people human.

Even though I am not of the human race, I can help. The blank pages are, in essence, a gift. My plan is to build an answer to everything anodyne and numb. There are three activities that can do that, or maybe more. Here are the guidelines:

We can start with mammoth art projects. I’m thinking the size of an average billboard, but could be smaller. Minimum twelve by twelve feet. We can turn to examples from 1500, like Laughing Fool by Jacob Cornelisz van Oostsanen. The face of an idiot entertainer for the court, his hand before his face, fingers splayed. He’s kind of wearing orange and looks like he can’t figure out what he’s laughing at. His eyes show no sign of intelligence, so he could be looking at those looking at him or he could be prattling like a toddler. Now it’s not my intention to tell you what to do with this old painting, but if it were put on a huge canvas with the right captions, people would laugh. It’s the laughter that matters. Also, since jesters were so common centuries ago, there are more portraits and we could display them all, with captions. Then put little jester stickers everywhere.

Next, I see on the blank pages before me the opportunity to organize some dance events. Wild dancing, with the Mummers or similar groups, Brazilian carnaval types. Big fun. Making fun. Who can argue with (or otherwise harm) people singing and moving to a samba rhythm? Or reggae, reguetón, cumbia, salsa, jarabe tapatío? I mean, who can stop that music and those moves? More than that, who’s brave enough to try to erase that energy? Nobody, not even Hank. He seems to think he can dance, but he looks like the poor scarecrow that went to Oz. Or like a stick figure trying to find how to lift feet that move like sacks of cement. Oh, the real dancers will drive him crazy and he’ll lose track of his evil plans. I’m seeing echoes of West Side Story and my feet are tapping already. A barrage of groups and cultures, swinging hips and other body parts… oh, parties, the best antidote for mean thinkers, who haven’t a clue what to do with all that life just dancing around.

Next, and maybe last, there’s the word brigade. Yeah! How can we weaponize words in the most effective way? Street theater? Ooh, now I’m thinking about César Chávez and the United Farm Workers, and el teatro campesino of Luis Valdez. In 1965, it got so much attention. Out in the open, telling stories people needed and wanted to hear. In English, Spanish, any language. So definitely street theater, like the plays the Catholic church presented when Mexico was a colony, or Lorca directed in the years before he was shot. Or the Jesuit-led Teatro La Fragua, from the perimeter of Tegucigalpa, a group that had full control of metaphors. Or a group like Krissy Keefer’s Wallflower Order (founded 1975), which left a permanent beat in the chest of those who saw them perform. It has a different name now, but it led the way.

How do I draw the plays? Maybe just with lots of people in different spots on a street stage. Easy enough. Lots of people gesticulating and speaking with courageous confidence, pointing out things they can’t say in regular conversations. I’m thinking collage would work here to represent this activity - everybody in the street, acting or clapping. Quite intimidating.

Theater can be accompanied by public readings of poetry or any literary texts. People who attend and participate are forever changed. The sounds stick in their heads and they can’t help repeating lines. It’s that repetition that moves things in good directions. Hank & Co. can’t compete, can’t lie or threaten loud enough. People will love having ideas in their heads again, I’m convinced of that. Long ago, Mr. Henry Karl decided the only required reading would be the book he helped write, but the truth be told, dollar signs and emptiness wrapped in abuse were unpopular. He scared people and did mean things, so nobody ever dared tell him they were bored or didn’t care. They didn’t want to end up on the side of the road, bleeding out.

There’s so many ways to represent words visually and to use them loudly. Do I need to explain? I don’t think so. The PEN Club and so many other groups can get the word out and take the lead in organizing. Take over the steps of important buildings, go into malls, make posters with important quotes from writers who have always changed readers’ lives by making them think. Not about real estate or gold or rare earth, but about morals, immortality, aesthetics and all sorts of things we tend not to appreciate until they’re erased. What quotes do you remember? What books made you think?

I’m going to copy a few of my favorites in these blank pages. You’re welcome to add your own.

Now it occurs to me that the activities I’m suggesting as ways to combat the stupidification of the country could be enhanced by good food. That thought of hundreds of people eating pupusas, tortillas, Ethiopian roasted chicken, ceviche… who’s going to refuse good things to eat? Put recipes on 3 x 5 cards and pass them out. Learn where the ingredients come from. Crowds that are happily eating are indestructible, I’d say. Offer a dish to strangers and talk about it with them.

And there you have it. The start - it’s only a start - of the removal of the moronic fog that has been created by Hank, who never said a funny or kind thing in his entire egotistical life. I, who am not human yet nevertheless can think, am determined to see this through. There’s a lot more coming, so don’t disappear, and remember never to judge a book by its cover. You never know what you’ll find when you open it, and even blank pages hold something useful.