“One fucking reason.”
Neal: “You’d be destroying your edgiest world.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know,” Neal replied. “But we are breaking new ground here.”
Nell: “And … and … this is something special. We may have actually redefined sex.”
Her Blue Majesty began to nod a nod that turned into a raised chin with a thoughtful expression. Then she looked back down, pitched her voice down to a confidential murmur.
“Maybe you’re not dropped,” Her Blue Majesty said.
Neal and Nell said nothing, watching her.
“You are a power couple after all,” she said. “You need more room to play in.”
Neal: “Absolutely.”
“We will continue the world. Along with a fresh supple of sacrifices.”
“Thank you very much Your Blue Majesty.”
Her Blue Majesty said, “Would you like the OSD to handle this?”
The Newports nodded.
Her Blue Majesty said, “Say nothing.”
The Newports nodded.
Her Blue Majesty said, “Do nothing.”
The Newports nodded.
“Nothing.”
The Newports nodded.
“The OSD will handle everything.”
The Newports nodded.
“It is recommended you leave New York for a short time,” Her Blue Majesty said. “The recommended city is Brutalia. You will need a residence there. The OSD will contact you to discuss that and to discuss the future of Brutalia.”
14
T he
60 Minutes
intro painted him with broad strokes, showed a clip from the
SNL
sketch with Andrew Thorne played by Alec Baldwin.
The stone-faced
60 Minutes
guy held up the photo of Mayor of Brutalia Andrew Thorne in mask and cape, a Bible in either hand. “This has become your defining image. Any comments?”
Andrew Thorne was prepared for the
gotcha moment
. The tight face shot showed him flash a confident smile. He answered, “It’s a good shot. I think it’s overused but I understand how mass media works. One picture is easier than a thousand words.”
“You have said that Brutalia is a city created by God.”
“Do you know what ‘God’ means?
Getting Onto Destiny
. This is a city created by God. God’s hand is in the functioning of this city.”
“How so?”
“The success of this city is due to God’s will. We operate this city with God-consciousness.”
Past that point Thorne set up a verbal checkpoint. It was to not-say too much about the functioning of the city.
Privately Thorne spent one hour each night typing his memoirs. It began with the existence of his administration. The exact point when he had become mayor. It was the day God appointed him.
Before that…in the year 1999 two rented tour buses left the church in Amarillo, Texas. He was the pastor and the driver, behind him 23 pilgrims going to see the Coming of the Lord for the new millennium. The first bus had the pilgrims, the second carried the dead, from ages 15 to 97, eleven loved ones to be resurrected in God’s city. Back then you could drive to Brutalia by freeway without Army checkpoints. Busloads of pilgrims headed there. There were pilgrims from churches, there were the handicapped and the sick and the dying. You saw it and drove toward it, a skyline that lined the horizon with skyscrapers without end. The sight filled your bones with terror and thrill as you rode toward God’s judgment made more vivid from the distance of a freeway, a vision beyond the steel girders of a bridge. It affected the people around you on the bus. A head rocked then the hair turned white. Someone started speaking in tongues. More heads turned white. Grown men rocked in the aisles crying.
“The federal government is seeking to shut down all travel to and from Brutalia. It classifies the city as unsafe and a risk to public health and safety.”
“That is only a fear-based reaction to the unknown. We are in a dialogue with the government to avoid such measures and keep transit and air travel open. We work to create the understanding that there is nothing to fear from Brutalia.”
“Are you saying the coldwave power plants pose no
Neal: “You’d be destroying your edgiest world.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know,” Neal replied. “But we are breaking new ground here.”
Nell: “And … and … this is something special. We may have actually redefined sex.”
Her Blue Majesty began to nod a nod that turned into a raised chin with a thoughtful expression. Then she looked back down, pitched her voice down to a confidential murmur.
“Maybe you’re not dropped,” Her Blue Majesty said.
Neal and Nell said nothing, watching her.
“You are a power couple after all,” she said. “You need more room to play in.”
Neal: “Absolutely.”
“We will continue the world. Along with a fresh supple of sacrifices.”
“Thank you very much Your Blue Majesty.”
Her Blue Majesty said, “Would you like the OSD to handle this?”
The Newports nodded.
Her Blue Majesty said, “Say nothing.”
The Newports nodded.
Her Blue Majesty said, “Do nothing.”
The Newports nodded.
“Nothing.”
The Newports nodded.
“The OSD will handle everything.”
The Newports nodded.
“It is recommended you leave New York for a short time,” Her Blue Majesty said. “The recommended city is Brutalia. You will need a residence there. The OSD will contact you to discuss that and to discuss the future of Brutalia.”
14
T he
60 Minutes
intro painted him with broad strokes, showed a clip from the
SNL
sketch with Andrew Thorne played by Alec Baldwin.
The stone-faced
60 Minutes
guy held up the photo of Mayor of Brutalia Andrew Thorne in mask and cape, a Bible in either hand. “This has become your defining image. Any comments?”
Andrew Thorne was prepared for the
gotcha moment
. The tight face shot showed him flash a confident smile. He answered, “It’s a good shot. I think it’s overused but I understand how mass media works. One picture is easier than a thousand words.”
“You have said that Brutalia is a city created by God.”
“Do you know what ‘God’ means?
Getting Onto Destiny
. This is a city created by God. God’s hand is in the functioning of this city.”
“How so?”
“The success of this city is due to God’s will. We operate this city with God-consciousness.”
Past that point Thorne set up a verbal checkpoint. It was to not-say too much about the functioning of the city.
Privately Thorne spent one hour each night typing his memoirs. It began with the existence of his administration. The exact point when he had become mayor. It was the day God appointed him.
Before that…in the year 1999 two rented tour buses left the church in Amarillo, Texas. He was the pastor and the driver, behind him 23 pilgrims going to see the Coming of the Lord for the new millennium. The first bus had the pilgrims, the second carried the dead, from ages 15 to 97, eleven loved ones to be resurrected in God’s city. Back then you could drive to Brutalia by freeway without Army checkpoints. Busloads of pilgrims headed there. There were pilgrims from churches, there were the handicapped and the sick and the dying. You saw it and drove toward it, a skyline that lined the horizon with skyscrapers without end. The sight filled your bones with terror and thrill as you rode toward God’s judgment made more vivid from the distance of a freeway, a vision beyond the steel girders of a bridge. It affected the people around you on the bus. A head rocked then the hair turned white. Someone started speaking in tongues. More heads turned white. Grown men rocked in the aisles crying.
“The federal government is seeking to shut down all travel to and from Brutalia. It classifies the city as unsafe and a risk to public health and safety.”
“That is only a fear-based reaction to the unknown. We are in a dialogue with the government to avoid such measures and keep transit and air travel open. We work to create the understanding that there is nothing to fear from Brutalia.”
“Are you saying the coldwave power plants pose no
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