Tuesday, 1 January 2013

Interview with a Blood Clot

"diese ‚fiese' Frau Feinstein"

As I arrive at the clot's current residence, tucked just inside the skull behind the right ear of the outgoing secretary of state, I am initially greeted by indifferent curds, who come off surprisingly disengaged and nonthreatening. The surroundings are pedestrian. To say that the place is sparsely arranged would be generous; there is no furniture in sight.

They lie about on what appears to be the brittle remains of beanbag chairs, made literally tacky, I'm guessing, by disregarded party-phernalia. But there is a certain oppulence in this decadence.

As I take my seat in the same vein, in rolls a clump of a figure draped in a crusty terrycloth bathrobe and carrying a short tumbler, which has the appearance of being an extension of both the previous evening's revelry, as well as the clot's personality.

Clot von Hills: When you said 'morning' you weren't lying.

diary von davidly: It's afternoon.

Clot: Whatever, dude. I'm surprised you aren't over clamoring for an exclusive with Fiscal Cliff.

dvd: The doctors say they're treating the SoS with anti-coagulants. Is the party over?

Clot: Party? This is my life. I'm just going with the flow.

dvd: There aren't any plans to enter your host's brain?

Clot: Surely you can tell that I don't make plans? Anyway, she's not my host... any more than I am yours.

dvd: Sounds more like you're shirking responsibility than denying being culpable.

Clot: You know, they call me the great equalizer. Like, there are all these rich and powerful people in the world who can squash you like a bug whenever they damn-well please, yet any one of them can be brought down in a heartbeat. Do you realize how many times your heart has beat since that very first time you bat an eyelash?

dvd: Would you ever want to be the cause of a stroke?

Clot: I don't want things. I'm the result of things. And those things didn't cause me as definitively as something else caused them. The source for your story lies elsewhere.

dvd: Where would that be?

Clot: How the fuck should I know? I just do what I'm told, like everybody else.

dvd: The doctors are confident of her recovery.

Clot: Even if she did die, there'd always be another.

dvd: But it's rumored that she's weighing a presidential run in 2016.

Clot: Which came first, the rumor or the plan? Either way - beware the treacherous venality of banging glass ceilings.

Look, for longer than I can keep track, I've been supplying her brain with oxygen. Then one day she cracks herself on the head and everybody's all, "Beware of the glob!" and the internets are filled with a call to prayer from the likes of a Rothchild for chrissakes. You sure can't make that shit up.

dvd: Should I be talking to Lady Rothschild?

Clot: That'd be about as effective as interviewing the professed messages in her "mailbox" [said with finger-quotes], if only a little less tedious. Or diese „fiese" Frau Feinstein [again with the finger-quotes (this time Teuton type)].

dvd: You referring to the senator from California's strong support for the recently extended FISA?

Clot: I'm referring to futile conversations with blood clots.