Our New Hire

The Sky Opens

It’s June 30. 7PM as I write this. Or 19:00… what-fucking-ever. It’s been an unusually hot and sweaty day…

Hear that rumbling in the sky, Denmark?

That’s our good dead friend Mr. Kierkegaard coming back to the land of the living.

He is going to be joining our neophyte porn company.

His position? Chief Dead Existentialist. Every company needs one of those.

Nobody Gave Him A Chance in 1849

Only a dead man can dominate the situation in Denmark. Licentiousness, envy, gossip, and mediocrity are everywhere supreme. Were I to die now the effect of my life would be exceptional; much of what I have simply jotted down carelessly in the Journals would become of great importance and have a great effect; for then people would have grown reconciled to me and would be able to grant me what was, and is, my right.
– Søren Kierkegaard, 1849

Wow was he right.

But times are different now. We aren’t so hostile toward new ideas or new ways of thinking. In fact, we invite them; or at least the smart people and the creative people and the conscious people do.

Anyway, you get to go another round, Søren.

This time there’ll be much more hedonism involved. That much is sure.

The End of June

Ray and I agreed that we would take the month of June easy.

Brainstorm. Think of every possible idea. Look at even the most basic concepts in a new way. Unwind in a different environment.

I was making coffee when Ray stumbled out of his room this morning.

Coffee?

Yeah.

Ray opened the fridge, browsed, shut it.

Do we have any hash left?

We didn’t have any hash left and I told him so. In consolation he could have the last piece of CHOKOLADE KAGE if he wanted it. Chocolate cake for breakfast just like Bill Cosby makes for his kids…

And anyway it was time for us to get going. It was time to start the project. No more messing around.

Time to really begin the next chapter of our lives. Time to Yell Fire! Time to do something god-damn important! I was beginning to psych myself up…

Are you with me, morning boy? Are you with me?

He was with me. I explained that he should take the day lightly. Rest. De-tox. Whatever. Just stay here and sober up so we can look at the plan with fresh eyes tomorrow.

I was going for a walk and then I was going to write.

Hey Ray… Stay off the hash for a while, OK?

OK. You too, right?

Right.

Walking in Copenhagen

I walked.

I walked down to Christania and it was really crowded because the Roskilde Festival was beginning and I went to our usual dealer’s stand to buy a super-hash joint.

Some new dude was manning the stand.

You want the small one for fifty kroner?

Or this one for eighty…

Another dude standing with his back to us turns around and it is one of the normal dealers and he recognizes me and I look at him and shrug and he looks at the new-dude dealer and then hands me the super-hash joint that normally costs 120 kroner but we get them for the 100 kroner ‘cuz we’re such fucking good customers.

I walked. Smoked. Thought. Wondered if Ray would show up.