The Truth About Jack Heart

The sequence is exactly as it takes place on my iPhone as snaped by my nieces’ boyfriend in the beginning of December 2019. He was referring to me as the Grim for the Grim Reaper and none of us had yet heard of the Bluestones yet. Shortly thereafter across the street PC Richards, Long Islands electronics giant and highest profile billionaire due to his incessant advertising for over twenty years backed over his wife in his driveway and killed her on the eve of Christmas. That’s when things got Grim. The Truth About Jack Heart In A Dream Within a Dream Edgar Allan Poe asks, “Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?” (1) David Lynch’s Twin Peaks the Return imagines “we are like the dreamer who dreams then lives inside the dream.” It then asks, “but who is the dreamer?” (2) In the Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan I wrote: “what I think and do becomes songs and pop culture and what is pop culture and songs become what I think and do. I do not know if I am the reflection or the image.” When I gave the manuscript to Christopher Hayden, General Michael Hayden’s son and the guy who really runs the NSA, to read back in 2014 he picked that particular line and sent it back to me with the remark that I had no idea how much alike we were. I didn’t yet but I was learning…   As a teenager my room was about fifteen feet off the western property line which was demarcated with a six-foot stockade fence. When I was about fourteen my towheaded crabbing partner Herby moved out from the house next door with his father and a middle age couple on their childless second marriage moved in. The Seltzers love child was a Black Labrador named Brandy. They both worked during the day and left Brandy out in their spacious backyard to while away time till mommy and daddy got home. Brandy’s idea of whiling away time was parking himself right on the other side of that stockade fence adjacent to my room and barking nonstop from morning till evening when they finally returned to let the beast in. I was attending high school till one o’clock when I would return home and try to catch some sleep, in preparation for the night shift at Stanford Applied Engineering. Every three hundred hours I worked there was worth a half a credit for school and I needed nine hundred hours to graduate at seventeen. Brandy would not just bark but he would periodically work himself into snarling frenzies like a rabid dog but his were seemingly calculated to disturb my sleep. After a couple of years of this I hated that dog more than anything in the world. I took to lobbing two-pound rocks over the fence which the stupid fuck would catch in his frothing mouth. Seltzer finds the rocks in his yard and calls the police […]
To access this post, you must have paid subscription/membership Annual Subscription Choices or Monthly Subscription Choices.