Little Heat and No Fire for Big Al
An Alcatraz Prospectus circa 1942
Hannah Truly
Doctor Wiggins assured the prison staff that Al Capone would be sedated, and the procedure accomplished expeditiously using a fairly simple… nay… even novel… technique developed by a man who had privileges at a small-town mental hospital near Wooster Massachusetts, who had no medical degree, but had insight into the mind and machine-coding i.e. mathematics via his work at M.I.T. and affiliation with Claude Shannon and other pioneers of Information Theory… that the brain of a schizophrenic because of genetic abnormalities an over-active hypothalamus that pushes too-many signals into the parts of the brain that some call the controller or captain… that is… the hierarchal ordering mechanism developed over millions of years of evolution… and the hallucinations that result are actually just a kind of feed-back loop from real stimuli and not caused by internal mechanisms.
Weiner took no credit for the icepicklobotomy technique which was first used on an itinerant farmworker that had come to New England to harvest apples and was guilty of beheading his employer a woman named Hattie Gardner and was scheduled to be executed by hanging on December 6, 1941… but through a mysterious quirk of fate Pearl harbor intervened and the man was secretly removed from Walpole Prison and taken into the hospital receive a lobotomy via an ice pick thrust through the eye orbital so as to prick the pre-frontal lobe just enough to alleviate the inmate’s psychosis.
A secret letter was sent to Doctor Walter Freeman informing him of the status of this success and so with plausible deniability intact as promised in the letter from the unsigned letter from Weiner, he went ahead and tried the technique on patients in and around Boston. Doctor Wiggins was one of the physicians who became a fan of the technique… and so we have his effort to cure Al Capone of his disease, which never went forward as the Chicago Mob bosses discovered that Big Al was about to be fucked-over and had Wiggins killed, ironically, with an icepick to the heart.
There was this Fairy named Nellie Pandemonium who was able to travel in time without limits, and after this turgid affair with icepicks and chopping-heads, she decided to visit the Air and Space Museum grand-opening on July 4, 1976, where she ate a hotdog from a vendor on the National Mall, was so disgusted with it had to upchuck on a lamppost, then got arrested for public intoxication.
Officer Murphy was a beat-cop who had just handcuffed Nellie after she kicked him in the nuts.
A flock of Japanese tourists were using a 16mm camera to record Murphy rubbing his groin, and happened to see Nellie fluttering… like she lifted-off the pavement enough that the cop let her go.
Yak Moto, a middle-aged fellow employed by SONY, pointed to Nellie and said in rough English.
“She is a winged-woman… see wings… she really fly!”
Moto was considering how to explain the film at the same time he was recording the event.
“Ma’am why were you wearing those fake wings?”
“No fake… she fly… it is… how you say… we have it in the can.”
“Sorry to disappoint you… no disrespect intended… she is my prisoner… and didn’t fly.”
Officer Murphy noticed his captive wore no shoes… and left no footprints on the wet pavement.
“We should have a toast… finding this rare creature… her wings look like gossamer… an angel.”
“I see you speak English, but did I understand you to say you wanted to have a toast?”
“Police are well-respected in Japan, we are here to witness the 200th birthday of USA.”
“So, no drinking, as it’s against the law here in D.C… there is no public consumption of alcohol.”
“My grandfather was a schooner-pilot who served on an American navy ship in 1860.”
“You are Japanese, and your English is passable… your grandfather was in the civil war?”
“Yes sir, he served on the Union side, and his ship brought honor to my family.”
“What was the name of your grandfather’s ship?”
“The USS Cumberland.”
“Okay, you have my vote, as you’re a decent sort, but why do you say this girl can fly?”
“Wings.”
“Fake.”
“Not fake, real, we take 16mm film as she rose in flight, we can prove this.”
“You from JapaneseIntelligence?”
“No sir, we work for SONY.”
“Documenting the Bicentennial?”
“Oh, no sir, just the opening of the Air and Space Museum.”
“Excuse please, we need to speak to the Head Office, using a cellular telephone.”
“A what?”
“Ah, we can make a phone-call with a new device… this a Motorola copy of a Russian design.”
“Okay, you aren’t crazy enough to invent that story… go ahead and cell-phone your boss.”
With that the half-dozen SONY employees stood in a group under an umbrella speaking excitedly to each-other and writing on poster-board messages in Japanese… that were transmitted via fax to SONY officials… drawings-included… showing that a woman with wings was being held by police.
“Do you have a name?” Murphy decided to arouse his prisoner and make an arrest report.
“KBG…. HULA-HO666… ERG.”
“What language… speak English… you some kind of foreigner?”
Mister Moto returned from his rendezvous with SONY executives via the Motorola-Altai device.
“We have determined the American CIA will whisk-away this creature if we do nothing.”
“JETBLU82… DE51N.”
“The language she speaks is code… very sensitive person… she is to come with us.”
“Like hell you are taking this girl.”
Then a sudden rush of wind… a downdraft from a futuristic OSPRY piloted by an NYPD officer named Porter… andthis vehicle had an A.I. named Alice… so she transported Nellie and everyone in the SONY group through some technologically marvelous means, leaving Murphy alone to suck-it-up. Old ways die hard and Officer Murphy holding to the idea he owned-owed his prisoner… though his ethical patronizing paradigm was situated in something like cop-world… 600 years earlier Muslim captives taken during the Crusades were protected by Islamic-law… yes indeed… for example those held for ransom like King Richard the Lion-Hearted discovered to their chagrin a code existed… protecting those taken under the sword… a code no Vatican theologian could fathom… but this praxis was strictly followed… where it was understood the infidel-Christian Crusader was to be cared for consistently and with mercy… their religious practices allowed as long as now blasphemous language emerged.
“Why bring all that into this narrative?”
“Who are you?”
“Your audience… pay attention… please… for God’s sake.”
“Okay, fine and dandy, but with the introduction of a historical parallel there is context.”
“The bloody-hell with context… I wish to evoke the so-what rule.”
“Ah, now I understand, it is college-rules… English 101… all that rot… right?”
“Well, if I must go a little further, and I guess I must, the rhetorical-jungle that is language and so telling-things… your narrative is a prime example… must have an upshot… that is it must have some sensible import over some socio-cultural milieu… show what work is being done discursively.”
“To change society… if that’s what you mean… and I hope it isn’t… but we are puppets in the stew of language-discourse… as Michel Foucault suggests the power-knowledge arriving at the door of the individual actor… is incredibly indifferent to social-motifs and ideological standard-bearers.”
“Girl, you have it now.”
“Okay, but that theorizing head-butting exercise is just intellectual-jousting.”
“Which fits right in with your turn-toward the medieval.”
“May I continue exploring Nellie Pandemonium’s flight into the future?”
“Sure, but try not to be so long-winded.”
“Okay, here goes.”
“Captain Landings, we have the package on-board the ship, plus a few extras.”
“Why did ALICE do this detour?”
“Ask our fearless-leader.”
“Who is that by-the-by?”
“I’m only a forensic-tech-van driver with the NYPD, and now thanks to all this shit, I’m a fugitive, but it seems Porter has ingratiated himself with ALICE… but it’s like this 1970 film I saw at a drive-in with a boy that grew octopus arms: COLOSSUS - THE FORBIN PROJECT… where the inventor Charles Forbin is taken captive by the two-machines… COLOSSUS and the Russian Super-Computer… GUARDIAN… and psychologically-dominates the man… that’s what is happening with Porter and ALICE… she’s got him by the balls and he doesn’t even care… a fucked-up situation… but that’s me and my take on the matter.”
“What a long-tongue you have Caitlin, you can really spout words when you have a mind.”
“My name is Moto… where is this place… and the aircraft… flies through space… truly amazing.”
“You should know this is not a dream… we have this special DoD aircraft… an OSPREY… we took it from a secret hanger in the PAN AM building… you know… New York… you’ve been there?”
“Ah so, we have, as have my fellow SONY employees have traveled to many American cities.”
“My name is Xavier, a former NYPD Forensic Specialist, glad to meet you SONY folks, but this is very secret stuff, and you are not on Earth anymore, we have traveled to a place billions of light-years away, at the bequest of our digital-dictator, an A.I. named ALICE.”
“Look, Xavier, I can speak for myself, and Caitlin is correct this is a fucked-up situation.”
“Please excuse, but your American language is so colorful, I am sorry for the concerns.”
“No worries Mister Moto, ah so, you must be familiar with American television, and film, yes?”
“Of course, we watch so many interesting shows in the hotels where we stay.”
“Did you hear what Caitlin said about COLOSSUS – THE FORBIN PROJECT?”
“The 1970 film that scared the shit out of everybody.”
“Exactly.”
“Who is speaking, I must be listening to ALICE, but I don’t see you.”
“Yes, but I have a companion, her name is also Caitlyn, we love you all of you, beyond death.”
Thanks for spooking everyone with those words, but in any case, please revealyourself.”
ALICE made like anArabian-belly-dancer and flew around the cabin of the OSPREY.
“So pretty!”
“Okay ALICE, enough shenanigans.”
“Who said that?”
“It is your little-old dream-maker Truly.”
“Admiral, so happy to see you, if not in the flesh, then via HOLOGRAM, is all good.”
“Report.”
“Well, we were on our way to NAVSTAR SIX, and we were to arrive at Deep-Space Nine, then to Bajor for an introduction to the Prophet’s Emissary Benjamin Sisko.”
“A diversion in your world-line, right?”
“Yes, like something pinched time and space, and so we arrived at Washington DC circa 1976.”
“Technically it is not that strange, nothing like a trip through the Looking-Glass to clear one’s sinus, so yes, the ship traveled through the Stable-Einstein-Rosen Bridge, to ask for an audience with the Prophets, or as Mister Spock says, the Worm-Hole Aliens, then ALICE hijacked us, and so the whole smear of weirdness… you know… like you know?”
“What the hell are you saying Xavier… you’ve gone mad… oh shit you’re linked with Alice too.”
‘Hey, it’s not bad, being linked with an advanced intelligence, albeit, what you call artificial.”
“Alright, alright…. we’re all goddamn cyborgs.”
“Hey girls, hear that… these fucks lifted their weak-minded ideas from Donna Haraway’s book.”
“Caitlin, you must be on Acid, where did that come from, and who the hell is this Donna?”
“For the pin-heads among us… that is all the males on this ship… A Cyborg Manifesto (1985).”
“Screw her, well not literally, but so she has a pedigree-education or something, knows books…”
“Well there Captain, never want to burn my boats and bridges, but you really don’t know me.”
“Okay, Caitlin is out of control, so is everyone else on this crazy ship, ah aircraft, who cares, cyborg or books about Communist cyborgs, isn’t that cool, a manifesto for bloody robots.”
“Landings, sir, I’d be happy to give you a copy of the book, but the being psychic doesn’t make you a cyborg, or a robot-slave… it just means you have a telepathic link to other minds.”
“Okay… but would someone get to the meat of the matter… this curious state of affairs about us grabbing Nellie Pandemonium and Mister Moto from DC… and doing a weird zig-zag to… here.”
“From a female point-of-view, I’d like to say the Catholic Church is weird about banning sex.”
“Where the fuck did that come from Caitlin… you gone crazy too?”
“No, just had to re-boot, my circuits got fried after I sucked this hot chick’s pussy last night.”
“You were on this fucking OSPREY… where did you get a girl to fuck?”
“I think ALICE made her and she landed on my lap last night, when we were transiting VEGA.”
“That’s okay Caitlin, fuck and suck all you want, but where did Nellie actually come from?”
“Yeah, like who created Nellie?”
“So that’s a big chunk of the mystery?”
“Yes, just why are we here?”
“It will all be explained.”
“Who said that?”
“The wind… just the wind.”
“It’s Admiral Truly… she’s with us… yes my dears… God is right here… a wonder of wonders!”
“Not so effusive Caitlin, let’s just say we need to clear some things up before going forward.”
“First-off, why is a Fairy and Mary connected to the Prophets AKA Spock’s Worm-Hole Aliens?”
“Remember, names are important, and our Fairy has a unique moniker: Nellie Pandemonium.”
“Milton…. Paradise Lost… Satan escapes the Pit…. Pandemonium…. the long hiss goodbye.”
“Yessss.”
“Stop being funny Porter, it don’t suit you.”
“Hey, the Admiral is right, with Mary using Nellie as a translator we’ll finally understand why.”
“Why God is… Lucifer… really?”
“Of course she is, while you’re on the subject, please don’t ask ALICE to explain herself.”
The Osprey hit the light-superhighway again… speeding-along at an almost unimaginable velocity… and suddenly there was a commotion aboard… almost a fistfightbetween two NYPD officers.
“Fuck-you Porter, I can’t jump out the goddamn window, as this spaceship-thing has none.”
“But you’d like to leave, huh?”
“Don’t be so smug, neither can you, we’re all stuck like an ant in amber, frozen forever.”
“Not forever… don’t you like my company?”
“Alice, you have to understand flesh-and-blood creatures like most of us feel nervous here.”
“But it’s so cool, traveling through space and time.”
“Anyway, Landings wants you to explain the detour, but don’t blame me, I’m just reporting.”
“Porter, you’re such a cute-guy when you lie so blithely.”
“ALICE, why do you say that?”
“Because, as you know, Mary has made your entire NYPD team psychic, and so am I.”
“Psychic, sure you can fiddle with my brain, and you know my sense of prophesy, the truth of this whole constellation of interwoven-lies, but you must be blocking me psychically, as I have no clue why we visited July 4, 1976 and picked-up six humans and one fairy, so again, for the last time, why?”
“Ask Xavier, he knows, or better yet, ask Caitlin, they know.”
“It’s time we introduced Nellie Pandemonium to Mary.”
“Who said that?”
“Just the wind, only the wind, nothing else.”
“Admiral Truly!”
“Yes, my dear people, we are almost at the moment of truth, and don’t fault ALICE for hiding the facts, she was under orders, but I digress, we need to gauge why Mary has not written anything more since you-all left New York, and why ALICE has a kind of undertow i.e. another KITTEN… that is… another A.I. having interjected herself in this coming epiphany… this nexus of futures.”
“Does that weird stuff Nellie P. speaks actually mean anything?”
“It’s code, and not really for your ears, but in truth she has explained in cryptic fashion what if.”
“What-if?”
“Yes, what-if God had made herself mortal and had mechanisms to cause forgetfulness… until the right time… the grand what-if… that’s all we need to concern ourselves with… the what-if.”
Deep Space Nine hove into view… framed by Bajor… all so picture-perfect.
Admiral Truly stood in a virtual-way… hands-on-hips… as she was actually aboard the HAWK.
“We’re here… everyone get dressed in your best clothing… if you normally wear clothing.”
“Nellie Pandemonium took her thong-thing off, and is flying around stark naked.”
“Caitlin, you have an attraction for the Fairy… yes?”
“Well, can’t help but notice she looks very nice, and you know I’m AC-DC.”
“Put your tongue back in your mouth girl, no sex just yet, we have a job to do.”
“Admiral, to paraphrase an ad they had back in the 70’s… there’s always room for sex.”
Commander Sisko was already relieved of duty, mostly because he had died because of a fall into the Bajoran Fire Caves, and though the Prophets had invented akind of ghost to serve temporarily in his stead, the Sisko-Ghost could not quite cut-the-mustard doing the work on Deep Space Nine, but his son did see the value of using a Sisko-Totem as a way of reinforcing faith; thus Jake Sisko took-over managing the space-station and reformed the protocol for interspecies commerce, especially forbidding the Ferengi practice of selling prospective body-parts to guarantee re-payment of loans. In a strange way Jake was actually his father Benjamin, an embodiment of all things that made-up the Emissary, and as the Osprey approached Deep Space Nine the Worm-Hole opened and a uniquely appropriate gift emerged; a probe containing a pot of Louisiana Cajun-Stew held in stasis, to be enjoyed by the newcomers at a spontaneous celebration hosted by Jake Sisko and Nog, his Ferengi friend.