Look what we do now

art as skin and art as costume

Look what we do now

Today Corey Atad joins us to write about political expression – or the lack thereof – at Hollywood awards ceremonies, and director Jonathan Glazer's statements last night connecting his holocaust film The Zone of Interest to "the ongoing attack on Gaza."

If you missed it please read Sean T. Collins' piece for Hell World on that film:

Inside the structure
The observed system reacts
The architecture of the Höss homestead (homestead is the right word; they very consciously model their lives after American “pioneers” from whom their master took direct inspiration for his war plans) does much of Glazer’s work for him. The walls and guard towers designed to keep the prisoners in loom all around them as they relax and frolic, conveying the idea that the Höss family is trapped within the prison of their own fascist moral degeneracy. With that backdrop in place, Glazer’s surveillance-cinema cameras, literally set up to run indefinitely and allow the actors to inhabit their roles as well as the home, cast an eye on the Höss home so harsh and revealing that Glazer himself compared it to the long-running surveillance-style reality TV show Big Brother. (I don’t think this was intended to be a compliment to Big Brother.) The cameras are the judge and the jury for the crime they’re capturing.

But absent the world-historical atrocity taking place on the other side of the wall, we recognize Rudolf and Hedwig as familiar types. They’re suburban careerist dullards with no discernible personalities beyond grasping ambition and amorphous but psychotically fervent racist patriotism. I do not mean to minimize their uniquely monstrous crimes by saying they are motivated by the same mindset as your average tradwife TikTok influencer or guy with We The People in Constitution font on the back of his killdozer pickup (look I know it’s a cliché but try driving on Long Island sometime). The lederhosen in which they dress their kids are just their culture’s Thin Blue Line t-shirts in children’s sizes. These are Normal People, by their definition of normal, and by many other people’s too. This, then is what being normal is worth. Here’s your happy home.

That piece also talks about best actress winner Emma Stone's fantastic recent series The Curse. In the context of that show Stone winning out over a Native American woman last night is bit on the nose.

You might also read this piece on another of last night's winners Godzilla Minus One.

Nature Points Out the Folly of Man
(This piece was originally for paid subscribers only, but I’m opening it up for today. Please consider subscribing for free or with a paid subscription to help pay our great contributors.) by Sean T. Collins “Of all my childhood obsessions, I think about Godzilla the least. Which makes me sad,

Four years ago today was the day it finally sunk in for me that the pandemic was going to be real and it was going to fucking suck. A few months into the thing I asked a bunch of friends to write about their own version of that day for a series I called The Last Normal Day. Some of you will have read it but many have not.

The Last Normal Day Part 1
Packing and Unpacking by Samantha Irby
While each of us eventually arrived in the same place, eating shit at home for months at a time, or risking our lives at our jobs, the ways in which we first processed what was happening were all unique. It did not come in one fell swoop for everyone, it instead encroached upon us in a series of steps. So your story of the pandemic finally, utterly, irrevocably becoming real was different from mine, which was different from someone in another state, which was different from your friends and family.

Featuring Samantha Irby, Aisha Tyler, Linda Tirado, Jeb Lund, Josh Gondelman, Kim Kelly and more I think it's fascinating to revisit knowing what we know now.

My piece went in part like this:

Death is the capital of Uruguay
Death is the capital of Uruguay by Luke O’Neil
On March 11, 2020 my last normal day I went to tell my therapist I wasn't going to see her anymore because I was moving soon and it felt like it was this big thing in my life like this momentous occasion and I felt conflicted and guilty about it like I was abandoning her and she said surprise motherfucker I was about to tell you I'm leaving too and we both said haha and then I went home and didn’t leave for weeks. No that’s a lie before I went home I went to the YMCA one last time for a swim and I had the pool almost entirely to myself which is a kind of luxury although how much pool can one person use. Liquids will take the shape of their container and gases will expand in volume to fill their container but a person stays the same size until they die and then they become very small.

I paused to take a break in the shallow end by the giant window overlooking the square outside and it was quiet save for the occasional siren from the nearby fire station and although the sun was shining it felt like everything was blanketed in snow. At this point I was still behaving normally in a world that wasn’t which is honestly quite a reversal based on how things typically go in my brain. I asked the lifeguard if she thought it was safe to be in here and she said yes they were taking every precaution and I felt better because we want to be told things are fine by authorities even if the authority in question is just a college kid whose entire enforcement apparatus amounts to a whistle. I thought about how annoyed I would usually get when they would kick us out when a lightning storm was coming through but lightning is different than a virus I guess because you can at least see it for an instant.

Ok here's Corey Atad. Stick around after that for a short story of mine that concerns another of Glazer's films – and one of my very favorite of the past decade or so – Under the Skin.

It costs money to pay the great Hell World contributors. For reasons I cannot quite discern my subscription numbers have been in the shitter the past few months so if you appreciate what you read here and ever thought about chipping in now would a good time to do so. I thank you for reading as always either way.

Look what we do now

by Corey Atad

On April 3, 1978, a crowd of angry protesters gathered outside the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion in Los Angeles. Sharpshooters reportedly watched from the roof of the building as members of the Jewish Defense League, the far-right group later designated as terrorists by the FBI, burned Vanessa Redgrave in effigy. The actress had arrived there for the 50th Academy Awards, where she would go on to win the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress for her performance in the film Julia. (It won two other awards that night and was nominated for Best Picture.) The protests — and counterprotests by pro-Palestinian activists — had nothing to do with Julia, in which Redgrave played the film’s eponymous anti-fascist killed by Nazis. Rather, the furor surrounded a documentary she had produced and narrated called The Palestinian.

Accepting her Oscar, Redgrave stunned the room by taking a stand against the JDL protesters outside. “I think that Jane Fonda and I have done the best work of our lives, and I think this was in part due to our director, Fred Zinnemann,” she said. “You should be very proud that in the last few weeks you have stood firm and you have refused to be intimidated by the threats of a small bunch of Zionist hoodlums whose behavior is an insult to the stature of Jews all over the world, and to their great and heroic record of struggle against fascism and oppression.”

Gasps and boos could be heard throughout the auditorium at her reference to “Zionist hoodlums,” which she later wrote in her autobiography had only narrowly referred to those protesters. While she still received much applause at the end of her speech for her stance against antisemitism and fascism, it was presenter and Network scribe Paddy Chayefsky who received greater applause later in the night for calling out Redgrave. “I’m sick and tired of people exploiting the occasion of the Academy Awards for the propagation of their own personal political propaganda,” he said. “I would like to suggest to Miss Redgrave that her winning an Academy Award is not a pivotal moment in history, does not require a proclamation and a simple ‘Thank you’ would have sufficed.” For what it’s worth, Shirley MacLaine didn’t seem too impressed. Months later, a JDL member set off a bomb outside an L.A. theater where The Palestinian was set to open.

I was thinking a lot about Redgrave’s remarks and the reaction to them in the lead-up to this year’s Academy Awards. If the situation for Palestinians was grave in 1978, their plight in 2024 is downright apocalyptic. The Oscars are no stranger to politics, whether in the films rewarded, or the speeches made. No doubt, Chayefsky had been annoyed by Marlon Brando skipping the awards in 1973, sending Sacheen Littlefeather — whose indigenous ancestry has come into question in recent years — to make a statement in his place on behalf of Native Americans. She protested their racist portrayal in Hollywood movies, and stood in solidarity with the Oglala Lakota in their standoff at Wounded Knee. Would artists this year similarly exploit the occasion of the Academy Awards to propagate their own personal political propaganda to stand with Palestinians amid Israel’s barbarous campaign in Gaza and decades of occupation, abuse, culture erasure and violence?

Outside Hollywood’s Dolby Theatre on Sunday, pro-Palestinian activists marched to call for an immediate ceasefire and an end to the occupation. There were reports of stars’ arrivals being delayed due to streets being shut down by the action, (which also happened recently at the Grammys) and Academy workers having to shepherd some to the ceremony via golf cart. On the red carpet, a number of attendees, led by Poor Things star Ramy Youssef, along with Billie Eilish, Mark Ruffalo, Mahershala Ali and others, wore red pins in support of a ceasefire. “We’re calling for an immediate, permanent ceasefire in Gaza,” Yousef told a Variety reporter. “We’re calling for peace and justice, lasting justice, for the people of Palestine. And I think it’s a universal message of just, let’s stop killing kids.” Some on the red carpet, including members of the Anatomy of a Fall cast also wore Palestinian flag buttons. 

During the ceremony itself, though, the issue of Palestine only came up once, during director Jonathan Glazer’s speech accepting the Best International Feature prize for his Holocaust drama The Zone of Interest. The film is about Auschwitz commandant Rudolf Höss and his family, who lived a sickeningly idyllic life abutting the walls of the camp where Jews were enslaved and exterminated on an industrial scale. “All our choices were made to reflect and confront us in the present, not to say, ‘Look what they did then,’ rather, ‘Look what we do now,’” a visibly shaking Glazer read from prepared notes. “Our film shows where dehumanization leads at its worst. It’s shaped all of our past and present. Right now, we stand here as men who refute their Jewishness and the Holocaust being hijacked by an occupation which has led to conflict for so many innocent people. Whether the victims of October the 7th in Israel, or the ongoing attack on Gaza, all are victims of this dehumanization. How do we resist?” He dedicated the film to the memory of Aleksandra Bystroń-Kołodziejczyk, who is depicted in the film as a teenager, hiding apples in the sites where Jewish prisoners were forced to work.

Glazer’s speech, a simple but forceful appeal to humanity and resistance, was met with respectful applause and some cheers in the room. There was no Chayefsky present to throw cold water on the sentiment, but there wasn’t much verve in support of Glazer’s comments either. Certainly not compared to the huge reaction for 20 Days in Mariupol director Mstyslav Chernov’s Best Documentary Feature acceptance speech, in which he expressed his sorrow at the film, which puts on full display the horrors committed by Russian forces in Ukraine, existing at all. 

“I am honored but probably I will be the first director on this stage to say I wish I never made this film,” he said. 

A sobering statement, but one whose lack of controversial undercurrent — at least among most sensible people in the West — was striking by comparison.

The visibly fearful Glazer was quickly castigated by many of the internet’s most ghoulish supporters of Israel, including Newsweek opinion editor Batya Ungar-Sargon, who tweeted, “I simply cannot fathom the moral rot in someone's soul that leads them to win an award for a movie about the Holocaust and with the platform given to them, to accept that award by saying, ‘We stand here as men who refute their Jewishness.’” It’s a twisted and maliciously misquoted rendering of the filmmaker’s statement, perhaps bolstered by Variety’s own early butchering, that proliferated over night far and wide. The trade has since corrected their article, but such a reaction was surely what had Glazer nervous. It was notable that Selma Blair, who last month had to apologize for grossly Islamophobic anti-Palestinian comments, happily walked the red Capet at the Oscars, while actress Melissa Barrera lost her role in the next Scream movie and was nearly dropped by her agency over calling Israel’s bombardment of the Gazan population a “genocide and ethnic cleansing.” 

(For what it’s worth, Killers of the Flower Moon, a film explicitly about the genocide of America’s native people’s, went home empty-handed despite ten nominations. Lily Gladstone has spoken beautifully at other awards shows about the film’s political valances, and it’s a pity that wasn’t allowed to happen at the biggest show of them all.)

I still remember watching the 2003 Oscars, which aired just days after the U.S. launched the Iraq War. Michael Moore had gotten up on stage to accept the Best Documentary Feature prize for Bowling for Columbine, a fun and fiercely political movie about America’s gun obsession. "We live in a time where we have fictitious election results that elect a fictitious president. We live in a time where we have a man sending us to war for fictitious reasons,” he said. “We are against this war, Mr. Bush. Shame on you, Mr. Bush. Shame on you!” 

Moore was met with loud boos before being played off the stage, only for host Steve Martin to joke afterward, "The Teamsters are helping Michael Moore into the trunk of his limo." I was 14 at the time, and the scene shocked me. Here was a filmmaker, who was being rewarded for his uncompromising politics, being booed by the very people who’d honored him, for nothing more than speaking the truth.

The Oscars are not world historical events, and movies are just movies, but the tepidness and downright hostility with which Hollywood often greets the truth is a depressing sight. It’s one thing when an artist like Christopher Nolan, for example, meets questions about his Best Picture-winning film’s relevance to the situation in Gaza by refusing to dictate the political terms of his work. The audience will take from Oppenheimer what it will, just as full-throated Israel supporters like Amy Schumer can call The Zone of Interest  “the movie of the year” with nary a hint of self-reflection. Awards shows do not need to be a site for political proclamation. It’s all just an industry patting itself on the back after all. But matters political are not all treated equally. Anti-Putin sentiment was on full display, in both Chernov’s acceptance speech and a clip of Alexei Navalny that preceded the In Memoriam segment — hilariously, the Academy attributed the phrase “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good people to do nothing,” to the murdered Russian opposition leader. Host Jimmy Kimmel made a joke about Donald Trump belonging in jail to big laughs and applause. I agree, Putin is a monstrous villain, and Donald Trump does belong in jail, and also there must be an immediate ceasefire in Gaza and an end to the occupation. Apparently the latter is a bit too controversial for Hollywood though. Amid a world in crisis, the movie industry retreats to the easiest of platitudes.

Speaking last week with Elamin Abdelmahmoud on CBC’s The Commotion podcast, writer Omar El Akkad said, “One of the things you see in a moment like this is the difference between art as skin, and art as costume. And I think there’s a lot of these folks who are quite happy to wear art as a costume, and to partake in art that in some superficial way tries to contend with serious things, but then when put on the spot to try and contend with serious things in real life, are quite happy to do the least possible, because again, you don’t want to have an awkward ride in the limo back to the afterparty.” 

It’s difficult to pass judgment on any particular artist in this regard, but the industry as a whole leaves a lot to be desired on the courageousness front, especially given how Hollywood often presents itself to the contrary.

Hypocrisy is not something I get too hung up on anymore. People are morally inconsistent, it’s just a fact of the human condition. But there’s something uniquely galling about an industry that persistently celebrates its own daring — where artists regularly speak about the importance of telling stories, of shining a light on the difficult and darker aspects of humanity, of representing the marginalized and oppressed — only for that daring to fly out the window when met with true horror, like Israel’s continued massacre of Palestinians with the U.S. government’s support. (It’s fitting, I suppose, for a ceremony originally created by studio bosses as a way to defang the unionizing spirit among film workers to be fundamentally toothless.)

When films like The Zone of Interest and Oppenheimer win top prizes, one wonders at the intention. Is it simply a matter of self-delusion? Do the Academy’s voting members think they understood those films and are also on the right side of history? Maybe they’re just cowards. Sometimes it feels more insidious; a systemic dilution of art’s power to illuminate the world by giving it a golden statuette. The Zone of Interest is now a Hollywood-approved film, an Oscar®-winner. Glazer’s speech was a brave and admirable attempt to steer people’s impression of that searing work of art toward righteousness. But in the end it’s all show business.

Corey Atad is a freelancer writer living in Toronto

This story appears in A Creature Wanting Form. No I am not going to stop plugging it it hasn't even been out for a year yet!

I want to see you dance again

What is that she said and he didn’t immediately answer so she said it again. What is that she said this time like a drum beat what is that kick snare crash and not comprehending the words themselves but nonetheless sensing the urgency of the tone like a dog can do he stood up and walked to the foot of the staircase and said hwwuha and she said come look at this and so he made his way to go look at it.

Just a minute before he had been swiping through a series of videos of birds that could mimic human language and each was more enchanting than the last. The type of thing where you’d go haha babe you gotta see this or text it to her so she’d think you were kindly and the bird is going like I’m Mr. Food Man and I love God’s Pure Light in that adorable uncanny way they can feint speech and therefore approximate a sort of imprisoned humanity. As if reporting the news from the bottom of a well.

In the last video he watched a crow was sitting there in a cage unable to fly or leave or do anything a bird needs to do to realize its birdhood and it goes Hi Joe.

Hi Joe.

You’d have to guess Joe must have been the fella taking the video.

Then the bird goes The Hangman is coming. The Hangman is coming.

It looks into the camera like it’s staring right at you personally and just one more time for the road it goes The Hangman is coming in its tongueless bird tongue and the video ends after that.

The video was short so it never tied off the arc of whether or not the Hangman showed up. Eventually he will have made his way over there for Joe and the bird and everywhere else for every breathing creature you can only assume given how time and his job description works.

Hi Joe. The Hangman is coming.

Wait do birds have tongues or not?

Most of the birds you see in videos like that don’t say that type of shit. They usually go pee pee momma and that sort of thing. We’re a little baby boy and we wanted the worm for our mouth.

Give us the little worm for our mouth momma.

Then there was a news story about a five month old bar-tailed godwit that had been tagged and was tracked flying 8,435 miles nonstop from Alaska to Australia in a trip that took 11 days straight in the air and all of a sudden some other bird being able to give voice to a disembodied spirit wasn’t quite so impressive anymore. All birds are capable of summoning the eldritch but not all of them are fucking jacked.

What is that she said using her phone’s flashlight like a private investigator with a comic book magnifying glass and having summeted and now standing there alongside he said I don’t think it’s anything. It looks like a mouse turd maybe.

How would a mouse shit up that high?

A dead little . . . moth larva maybe he said not knowing how he knew what the different strata of larvae were or if strata was the right word to disentangle them from one another species wise.

Look closer she said and he said baby it’s nothing let’s not do this right now ok baby? Being kind of a prick about it and then feeling bad five seconds later but it was too late to turn back. How the quality of the word baby can disintegrate in your mouth in the short duration of any sentence it bookends. He looked closer anyway and one of the tiny little maggots (?) was convulsing with the rhythm of his heartbeat one two three one two three one two three like skeletons waltzing and as a reflex he flicked it to Hell which was the wrong thing to do for numerous reasons.

Why did you do that?

I don’t know!

Now I have to find it again.

I’m sorry I’ll call a guy tomorrow.

He left her to her inspections and walked slowly

left hand braced back down the stairs with his other arm cocking at the ready like a pugnacious cowboy itching for his holster and had the phone out in motion smoothing felicity as he flopped onto the couch and a moment later there for his eyeballs was a story about an immigrant who had died by suicide in a New York prison. The guard in his cell block had lied about having checked on him regularly the story said and in the interim the guy had scrawled on the wall a note.

Perdi mi memoria. No recuerdo nada he wrote.

I lost my memory completely. I don’t remember anything.

I leave you free he wrote.

The story said the man had had some sort of accident years ago some sort of trauma to the skull and hadn’t been the same since and had resorted to alcoholism to cope with that which is a very understandable response to trauma of any kind.

On another part of the wall he had also written mi esposa los amor and you can probably understand the bulk of the meaning there even if you don’t speak his language.

He swiped away from all of that and saw that Paul Verhoeven’s Starship Troopers was released 25 years ago on this very day and thought about watching it later.

Wait I forget when did you find the first larva? Larvae.

The first larvae.

The first moment was . . . well first I must tell you that we had been really busy for two weekends in a row so I didn’t have time to do my usual sweeping and dusting and vacuuming she said.

The wedding in Maine. Yes that weekend. That was a nice weekend.

It was a very nice weekend yes. We saw your friend at the bar randomly and he seemed to be doing poorly but also fine.

That is about as good as you can ask for.

Well when I got around to cleaning I was sweeping upstairs in the bedroom and I swept up a pile of dust bunnies into what’s the thing you sweep into? The bin? You know what I’m talking about? The part that you sweep it into?

The tray?

The tray. Not that. I don’t think that’s the word. Then I noticed a couple of little brown things moving around and looked closer. I thought nothing of it and killed them. Then I swept in the bathroom and the same thing happened. I saw a couple of gray brown guys moving. Then I cleared the whole house but in the back of my head I thought hm that’s weird I don’t usually sweep up bugs. The next day I figured I’d look into things more.

After sleeping on it?

After sleeping on it. So I opened the closet and inspected the top row of clothes. There was one of the little guys. Right there. In the back row where the clothes we never wear hang. All your shirts that don’t fit you anymore.

Come on.

Sorry but you know what I mean. Tucked back in there was a blazer you wore at ___’s wedding all those years ago. I noticed it had some yellowish wormy looking guys on it. It was completely eaten through with so many holes. You sang a song at their wedding. I just thought of that. So I started pulling clothes out. I had you go get a trash bag and I put it all in the trash bag. You know all of this why are you asking me?

I forgot what happened. I wasn’t feeling well. I don’t know why but I forgot he said. I’m not feeling very well now if I’m honest.

There was a hammering in the near distance. Chunk chunk chunk. They were used to the sound of the shooting range up the road so it was only momentarily distracting.

It’s just the gun people she said.

What was motivating this level of alertness on your part do you suppose he asked.

I have a very deep fear of infestations she said. Anything that involves an infestation makes me incredibly anxious. Staying in hotels makes me anxious about bed bugs. I guess that’s probably the best example. It probably goes to a control thing. Where I worry that there’s going to be a problem that I can’t control. And uh this probably also has to do with control too because I’m OCD about things. There are certain things with cleanliness where I’m very compulsive.

I don’t really have that problem haha. I guess that’s not funny I’m sorry.

You’re compulsive but you have a different type of compulsion haha.

A truck was groaning outside and there was a thud on the stoop.

Did you order something he asked. Yes she said.

What did you order?

Nothing she said.

In particular the thing that really bothers me about it is that these specific bugs can ruin clothing and rugs and upholstery and even furniture she said. My home is my heart. It’s the only place in the world I feel calm all the time. And like protected from the cruel world. And happy. And in my place. So the idea of not being able to control something that’s ruining my sense of order and safety in this world truly upsets me on a very existential level. I want to tell you something I’ve been reflecting on . . .

Please do.

Well it’s my deep connection to capitalism.

How so?

It upsets me that I want to have nice things!

That’s kind of weird to care about. That you have nice things without holes in them. Maybe it’s internalized misogyny. Keeping a nice home. I can’t really verbalize it but I know it’s in there. Inside of me. So contributing to that . . .

What’s the worst case scenario do you think for the larvae in terms of encroaching on your controlled space?

That they never go away! Obviously. That no matter what I do they never go away. Another reason it’s upsetting is what if one crawls in my ear when I sleep?

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and I have to stretch my jaw open because I’ve been clenching it so tightly dreaming about everything I’ve ever done wrong he said.

I have to stretch my tongue all the time when I’m driving. Why are you saying that do you think a bug might crawl into it?

Do birds have tongues he said.

I think so.

That fucks me up for some reason but I guess it makes sense he said.

Yeah so bugs getting into my mouth is one concern of mine he said. I don’t mind swallowing a small bug he said. Often when I go for a run some little kind of flying guy will bungle into my open gasping mouth and it’s always a tough call whether to gag it out or to just say fuck it and swallow. It depends on how much moisture you have and at what point in the run it happens. If you’ve been sweating for forty minutes you don’t have saliva to spare. But I don’t like the idea of swallowing a bug that might not die instantly on the journey you know? Like an action hero bug or a spaceship type of thing where they navigate my esophagus and emerge covered in my slime and want revenge.

That could happen. You probably do eat spiders when you sleep. I’m not as afraid of spiders because their populations tend to be like normal. I just don’t like things that can infest. It’s about control but I think it’s normal to not want that.

I’d say that’s very normal.

Remember when we ate all those crickets in Mexico she said.

They were surprisingly good!

They were pretty good but I think it was like the whole thing of it. Being somewhere else and not wanting to not try things she said.

We stayed in a convent they’d turned into a douchey hotel.

And the people from Miami!

Oh god. The hotel was nice though.

It really was. I was going to say one of the most horrifying stories for me was some news thing I read from Australia she said. I think it was Australia. The whole town became mouse-infested and people just couldn’t get them out of their houses. They washed their blankets and when they took them out they found dead mice in there spun and heated in the water and folded into the fabric. They couldn’t get rid of these mice. Things like that make my skin crawl. I hate the idea of things I can’t get away from or clean up or control. It’s also the fear of the unknown. I like to know exactly what’s going to happen. I don’t want to wait and see I want to do something now and know. Hold on is somebody out there at the window?

No but let me look he said. No there isn’t.

Maybe it’s the people shooting. The shooting people.

It’s just the trash bins blowing over. I’ll take them in later he said.

Mice are like the last of their problems in Australia he said. They have like ten foot spiders and lizards that are basically monsters from space.

It might not have been Australia she said. It was some place in... I read an article about it a couple years ago. It keeps me up at night sometimes. What if that happens here? The woman who lived in this house before us was terrified of spiders did you know that?

No why would I know that?

You never listen to me. Our neighbors told us. To the point she had all the bushes pulled up because they had spiders in them. Big giant draping webs like you’d put up for Halloween but they were real. She’d have to call the neighbors for help killing the spiders because she was so frightened. They’d come over with whatever poison they had under the sink. We still have a fair amount of spiders here though. It seems like the spiders won that battle.

I know and I hate them he said. I don’t love a spider! Maybe we can sort of pit them against the larvae here? A kind of Godzilla versus Mothra type situation? Let nature take its course.

I don’t love them either but more so I don’t like it when I see twenty of something. When they’re really good at producing eggs and multiplying that makes me feel crazy.

Did you see Heidi Klum’s costume?

Why? Oh because of the theme we’re working inside of.


Well she...

I don’t love it but it’s more just funny. How do you spell Scarlet Johanson?

Scarlett Johansson. Two t’s two s’s.

So afterwards she took off the worm body and emerged like a chrysalis in another photo I saw. A vile monster blossoming into a run of the mill hot lady.

These hot bitches.

I know but she still had the face mask of the worm on. Like strips of raw bacon wrapped around her pretty face. It was like that movie you fell asleep for....

You have to narrow it down there.

Under the Skin with Scarlet...t Johans...son.

You would of course love that one.

It wasn’t like that.


Ok it was like that but not like that. It’s just such a quiet and slow movie. I’m never going to stop thinking about it. She’s this alien that is part scout and part hunter that scoops up dumb shits along the side of the road whose fatal flaw is being horny for Scarlett Johansson and needing a ride somewhere which are two universal human experiences.

I forget what she did with them.

Well we don’t know. Ate them I guess. Close enough to that. Like we do with pigs and cows I guess but the way the harvesting was rendered obliquely and stylized and sort of withheld in the film was so much scarier and imaginative than something gory would’ve been. Something where you actually could see what was happening. It’s much worse to not fully understand how someone or something is dying.

Wait why are you asking me all of this she said. About the larvae I mean she said.

Do you trust me he said. I don’t think so.

You don’t trust me?

I don’t know.

He crawled into bed first that night which was the incorrect order of things and wrestled to drift off with the sound of the vacuum whirring and devouring downstairs. He listened in his memory to Low singing When I Go Deaf. Gradually at first and then suddenly the pills started to shave off the edges of everything like when you pinch in the borders of a photo on your phone and his body downshifted into its initial descent and the last thing he remembered was hearing a rustling in the closet. He thought of a nervous dog turning around and turning around before settling onto a cushion in its crate.

Did you ever watch a horror movie where it’s like a captivity scenario and they eventually show the fucked up basement with the green lighting where the characters are being kept in iron cages starving and shitting and bleeding and weeping all over themselves and the main girl the prettiest one they could hire for the role runs through and she’s bouncing off the walls in her tank top as she flees like holy fuck holy fuck and think I wouldn’t stand for that type of shit. Unlike these poor sons of bitches who made a bad decision you might think this is something I would not have let happen. I would figure out a way to forestall this evil done upon my person is what you might think. If not to ultimately abscond to freedom and have my vengeance if it’s fairly proved impossible then at least to puncture your jugular on the screw of the cage’s fitting out of spite. Fasten your own hair ripped from a shredded scalp into a noose.

That was one kind of dream.

I’ve been worried about my friend who’s been on the verge of self-induced oblivion for many years and thought I reacted poorly to his latest cry for help and it took me weeks to realize that it wasn’t that I did not care anymore but rather that I had cared for so long and so deeply that it formed a blockage in my chest and my tolerance equilibrium was thrown off its axis. How after you cry for an hour or two over a loss and then are like alright cut the shit. This caring isn’t going to thwart a single thing. Not one single thing will change due to this caring.

He stirred a few hours later and she had finally come to bed and the house was silent save for a faint panting. He stretched out his jaw and thought nothing of what might crawl inside of it.

The next day he called around to find a guy and the first one to say yes seemed decent enough so then here he arrived with his little canister of bullshit spraying it under the baseboards and everywhere. I’ve seen a lot worse the guy said misting this and that like you’d water plants but doing the opposite now not nourishing the living but sickening them instead.

As it happened the guy had recently purchased a home near where his family usually stayed in Maine and so they talked about that for a while trading references to obvious landmarks back and forth that neither seemed to recognize.

Near the church there? I don’t think we’ve ever been there.

Oh weird it’s right there.

It was unclear to him whether or not you’re supposed to tip a pest control guy and all he had was a baggie full of roughly twelve dollars in quarters but weighing his options and not wanting to seem cheap he poured them into this other man’s cupped hands feeling like God’s Unique Asshole and thinking it would have been better to have just stiffed him instead of doing anything like this.

When the pest man left he looked out the window at his truck and saw some political bumper stickers that soured his impression of the entire ordeal even further. My affable demeanor and ability to display interpersonal kindness is hiding something much worse underneath one read. Man’s inhumanity to man is good actually said a second. A third was a Pearl Jam sticker and that was one kind of a toss up on what it indicated.

You should also ask me about the checking on how long it takes me to leave the house she said.

What are you talking about?

That’s a whole other thing related to how the bugs molest me. You don’t think they’re related? The longer we’re not going to be home the longer it takes me to leave the house. My worries about the house still being here in the same way we left it is a multiplicative relationship.

What does multiplicative mean?

What was that she said tracing an invisible flight pattern across the expansive canopy of the living room sky. Was that a moth?

I didn’t see it? I think you’re still just wound up he said.

Ah I know how that sounds he said. I’m sorry.

Multiplicative means like multiplied a few times as much she said. For every day we won’t be here it takes ten minutes to check the house to make sure it’s gonna be just like this when we come back. Like the amount of times I check the stove. If we’re going out for an hour I’ll check it once. Two days I’ll check it three times. Longer than that I’ll take a picture and check it ten times.

But the stove is never hot. It doesn’t turn on when we aren’t looking. It has never turned on by itself. A stove does not have agency baby.

That doesn’t matter. That doesn’t matter at all.

But it does baby.

I’m sorry before all of this you were trying to tell me about your therapy session she said. How did it go?

It was fine.

Come on.

Well if you really care I talked about some dreams I’ve been having. She told me that she wasn’t a Jungian but that we could explore them a bit if I liked and I spent the rest of the time worrying about if she pronounced Jungian right.

Did she? Wait what was that? Outside?

Nothing. I don’t know. How would I know?

He went to look and there was a figure knocking on the door and the sound of children murmuring.

Is trick or treating tonight?

Oh shit she said.

But it’s not Halloween yet.

That’s how they’re doing it this year she said. As a precaution.

He opened the door to greet Spider-Man and his friend the fairy princess. Hold on kids he said. Hold on just a minute now we’re gonna get you something to eat.

Give us the treats they said.

So did she pronounce it right she asked after the coast was clear.

I honestly don’t remember. I forgot to look it up. I used to know that. I used to know so many things.



That takes me back to working in kitchens she said. Coming up behind someone with a hot pan and saying yanyo she said and they both laughed.


A little sing-song cadence.


So I told the therapist the one dream I have about being at the top of a towering edifice of one kind or another and being constantly aware of the hungry chasm below the entire time just never not aware for one second of the distance to the ground and increasingly in my fevered climbing how much longer the plummeting would take to be completed and the fear every moment that someone most often you would trip off the ledge and I’d be left to grasp onto your hand and pull you back to safety but I just cannot do it he said.

Did your therapist have an idea what that might mean?

Yes but I don’t want to say it out loud.

Wait what the fuck was that?

Just the neighbors. Their dog. Maybe the dog. The shooting people. The dogs and the shooting people and the kids in costumes he said.

Then there was the one about returning to my high school football team after being away for a year or two and it being a whole thing among the team that I was there no one entirely sure what to make of me and then after all of the build up I can’t find my helmet he said. Wait what are you doing are you looking for bugs right now?

I’m still listening.

I’m not going to talk to you while you’re bug hunting. I’m sorry baby.

Baby I am also sorry. Did you see ___’s post about considering getting divorced so they could afford to have their baby? How their insurance was fucking with them so much that they couldn’t see any other way through it.

No. No come on.

What if we left the bugs be for now he said. There’s supposed to be an extraordinary moon out tonight do you want to go look at it?

Is your therapist attractive she said.


Is she hot?

No. God no. Can you imagine? What a nightmare that would be.

Do you want to fuck her though? Even though she’s not hot?

I don’t know. No.

She went off into the basement to look for a tool she was sure would be helpful in her pursuit of cleanliness and he made a good faith effort to scan the edges of the living room for larvae but couldn’t see any. He looked at his phone again and saw a video of Customs and Border Patrol agents shooting rubber bullets at migrants near the Rio Grande in El Paso and the people were all running away plunging back into the river because water even dangerous water is more forgiving than soldiers although there’s always a tipping point in that equation. The problem is when you are fleeing for your life you have to do the math so quickly.

All they wanted were some nice things he thought.

He went outside and sat on a chair in the yard when a bird alighted on the ground in front of him. It had been warmer than it should have rightfully been all week and the air felt like it had blown in from the wrong direction. The gnats and mosquitos were buzzing around dizzied and confused and unaware that they didn’t belong here. None of the correct things were alive at this particular juncture. None of these creatures were supposed to be alive.

He was waiting for the bird to speak or to do anything but sit there dumbly staring but it of course did not say anything it wasn’t that kind of bird. He had this stupid idea that he could reach out and grab it by the neck. He knew it was impossible but he thought it anyway. That he was fast enough to do that.