New York, Noo Yawk. For the first time this tour, feel like I'm finally home--and that's including our stop in Chicago--here, in a city too big to give a shit about me and my book. The Big Apple. No book burnings, no protests, no hometown memories. Just anonymity and alienation, the way I like it.
To prove it, even feeling comfortable in a limo for once as we laboriously inch down Central Park West towards Columbus Circle.
Or maybe it's just that I'm finally getting used to a stretch as my primary method of transportation as opposed to, say, good ol' overcrowded, running so late it's early, stinky Muni.
Ms. Cabal is certainly in her element, surrounded by the haute couture and big money of the Big Apple. Unfailingly, she's dressed for it in her custom designed dark blue designer suit that probably costs more than I made the last three years combined. What really gets to me is under the matching blue jacket, the white cotton collared shirt accentuates her slight olive shade of skin to fantastic effect.
Even sitting next to Cassandra, with whom I may have a budding relationship, focusing on Ms. Cabal in such a way, even for an instant, is enough to get me hard, though quickly concealed with a subtle shift of my laptop onto my lap's top.
Ms. Cabal's annoyingly efficient Tela is likewise donned in fashionable business attire from the tip of her smart heels to the top of her severely pulled back blonde hair, tied in a flawless ponytail that only heights her aquiline facial features. Only diff being, Tela's outfit cost thousands of dollars less than what Ms. Cabal shelled out. The pair share whispered chattering, probably plotting the day's itinerary once we're done at DVNC.
Only Cassandra seems out of sorts. Already feel like I have an intuitive sense of her and it tells me she's longing to get back to San Francisco and her canvas. Manhattan is probably a bit much for her; by comparison San Fran is a college town in terms of size and scale.
Not for me though; after so many years of stagnation by the Bay, it's a total headrush being here for the first time in the world's most influential city--and not just as an average tourist, but here with purpose, to appear before an even larger audience than New York itself, expressing ideas that haven't been expressed before--or at least, not expressed often enough before such large throngs.
Am shockingly calm, actually, considering what lies before me; an appearance on
Monica Swann, easily the most popular current daytime TV talk show in America. Ms. Cabal has told me at least a half-dozen times that an appearance on her show can make or break a movie...or a book.
But way bigger than that is who else is appearing on the show with me--or opposed to me would be putting it better. It's this person's appearance that really should have my heart pumping double-time. For none other than Rev Gen Theodore Pleasant himself will be seated alongside me.
It's the chance of a lifetime and am not to blow it over some meaningless butterflies in the belly.
Instead of fearing it, try to visualize how it'll all appear to me, and how I'll fit into the whole scene.
But these attempts at visualization are repeatedly thwarted by majestic Manhattan all around our vehicle, the plodding pace of which is testament to the fact more people want to be here in NYC than can possibly fit.
And despite that, could even see myself moving here--in Manhattan--or one of the Boroughs--one day. With
Bye Bull published, have already achieved everything I've set out to do on the West Coast. Now that I have the money, and the East Coast connections via Ms. Cabal, I could make a legit go of it out here.
That is, if Ms. Cabal lets me...
"Darwin, pay attention."
Ms. Cabal's authoritative tone snaps me out of my reverie, as she intended. My unfocused eyes meet her unyielding gaze:
"Yes, Ms. Cabal?"
"There are still a few issues we have to discuss before we arrive at DVNC. Now, what are you to say when you are asked why you wrote the
Bye Bull?"
"I'm going to tell them that
Bye Bull was written by me as a necessary response to the disproportionate influence the christian religion wields in America today. I'll add that this country is drowning in a faith-based sea of irrationality."
"Very good, Darwin. That is the proper even tone of voice you need to maintain."
Inspiration strikes me: "Hey, why don't I slip in a joke there--accidentally call it 'faith-
biased' and then correct myself."
"That is fine, Darwin, just be sure to enunciate clearly so that everything you say is clearly understood, not so much for the studio audience but for the viewing public, that is who we are trying to reach during this broadcast, potential readers as exemplified in free-thinking individuals."
My optimism slips to cockiness, and I reel off a snarky tone: "Guess I should be excited then, eh?"
"You can be anything you want, Darwin, just make sure it's coherent and articulate. This is your most important public appearance to date, just in terms of the audience size. A good showing and we'll increase sales by 20 percent. A great showing and they'll increase by 50 percent.
"I don't think I need to tell you what a poor showing does for sales, do I Darwin?"
"No, Ms. Cabal." Feel shrunken, like a corrected schoolchild.
"And with increased sales, there will be a heightened exposure to your ideas."
Why do I feel like she just threw that in to make me feel validated or to relax me?
Not relaxing me, that's for sure. Neck stiffens slightly, and feel myself starting to tighten up in general.
You see, am about to appear live on
The Monica Show , currently the most popular afternoon TV talk show in America. Ms. Cabal has told me at least a half-dozen times that an appearance on her show can make or break a movie...or a book.
That's why she's not fucking around, as we're about to turn off Central Park West: "Now. let's review your positions on the major topics that Monica is sure to discuss, starting with abortion..."
Frustration creeps in a bit, it's like being in school, studying for a test, when all I wanna do is turn off my mind, relax and sight-see this teeming jungle of concrete steel and glass all around me, just beyond the closed window.
Not to mention it's embarrassing to be treated this way by Ms. Cabal in front of Cassandra. Good thing Ms. Cabal doesn't know Cassandra and I kissed.
At least, don't think she knows...
Subject blissfully changed as we hit the inspiring intersection of Broadway, 8th Avenue, Central Park South and Central Park West, also known as Columbus Circle, home to DVNC Studios.
Noo Yawk traffic being what it is, it's another 42 minutes until we're actually parked in a private DVNC garage, and met there by a "Monica" assistant producer, a trim brunette in a trimmer pencil skirt named Tessa, who swiftly escorts us from the garage to the studios, our entire entourage successfully passing through metal detectors in the process.
Am only half-listening as Tessa tells me what to expect and how the show breaks down as far as individual segments, when I'll be introduced, etc etc. Hopefully Ms. Cabal is getting all this, if she isn't already completely familiar with the Monica Show's schedule.
Suddenly, as if she was testing whether I was paying attention, Tessa suddenly looks over her shoulder and addresses me directly:
"Okay, Darwin, you're about to meet Monica; she always greets her guests before we go live. Now I understand you don't have any live television experience before, is that correct, Mr. Grimm?"
Stammer an answer: "Basically, I don't--when it comes to speaking in front of a camera, I mean, um, I've never been the main subject. But I've been a movie extra for years, so I guess I'm used to this environment in general."
Now it's Tessa's turn to half-listen to me, if she's even putting that much effort into it.
"Just remember Mr. Grimm that once we are live on the set, you are only to speak when addressed by Monica, Rev Pleasant or a studio audience member, you are not to blurt out answers on your own. It's important to always conduct a dialogue, not a monologue. Do you understand the difference, Mr. Grimm?"
Try not to roll my eyes at her condescension and whisper, "If I didn't, I wouldn't been capable of writing a book that would get me book on this show, now would I?"
Tessa doesn't have an answer for that, besides, it's time to meet Monica! Even someone like me who has barely seen an entire episode of her show can recognize Monica Swann approaching, she's just that ubiquitous of a media figure. Flanked by a petite yet stunning brunette (probably Monica's personal assistant), she stops right before me, recognizing me just as readily as I did her.
Partially because of that, Monica Swann is far less intimidating in the flesh than Ms. Cabal. Furthermore, she's shorter than I imagined her being, hardly the statuesque authority Ms. Cabal emanates. TV must add height, too. Like most of Monica's viewers though, I'm taken in by her sparkling azure eyes and perfectly coiffed golden bob, as she extends a gracious palm to me and I shake back.
Upon contact with her soft, never-worked-a-day-in-her-life flesh sends through my nervous system a mixed ripple of charged excitement and a sense of superiority over this very rich and famous and powerful woman.
Here it's the reverse of how it is with Ms. Cabal; Monica should bow before me and lick my boots--or something.
Wonder how many of her guests just want to throw their host Monica down and fuck her, like I do? Forget all the pretenses of fame and fortune and just go at it like a pair of animals out in the wild, rutting unashamed and unapologetic!
But even if Monica sees that in my eyes, she forgoes it to offer what seems to be a standard introduction she proffers to most of her guests:
"Wonderful to meet you, Mr. Grimm. I loved your book. Very provocative."
Wonder if she really read it or did one of her assistants do that for her, too?
"Thanks for having me on the show, Ms. Swann."
"We're delighted to have you, Darwin! And please, call me Monica."
Oops--calling her "Ms." was force of habit.
"Thanks, Monica."
"You're welcome, Darwin. Now you just relax and enjoy yourself and once we're on set, you make sure express yourself to the fullest, because that's what we're all here to do, every one of us. We're going to talk all about your book and many different topics that you've addressed in your writing, so I don't think anything will be too much of a surprise for you."
"Yes, Ma'am--Tessa briefed me as to how the show will run."
"Excellent. So Darwin, the next time I see you will be on my show. I'm really looking forward to it and I know you'll be great!"
How can I not grin with such optimism coming from such a cutie? Also nod as she quickly pivots away from me, immediately heading in the opposite direction, flanked by her assistant with the heart-shaped ass.
Monica has more magnetism than you realize at first; it kind of sneaks up on you. Can see why all those house fraus dig her, for them it must be like welcoming a friend into your home every afternoon. Or at least, Monday through Friday.
But there's little time left to contemplate such matters, as Tessa whisks me into makeup, something I never bothered with for any of the lectures, because the rooms I was speaking in were so small. But this is much higher stakes, and the the sexy makeup artist with ample cleavage named Clara explains to me the interplay between stage lighting and makeup, and how it's important in order for my facial expressions to be visible by the people in the back of the Monica studio audience, and more importantly, by the tens of millions watching at home.
With my face sufficiently patty-cake, Tessa leads me into what is known in television parlance as the "Green Room"; where one waits to be called on to go before the camera eye.
On-duty Cassandra remains standing by the door, while Ms. Cabal and Tela relax on the plush brown leather sofa, their long legs taking up all the available space. Being thirsty anyway, I opt for the chair near the water cooler.
Really, there's nothing more to prepare for, I'm as ready as I'm going to be. And Ms. Cabal knows it, that's why she's off chatting with Tela, letting me off the hook.
All there's left to do is wait for the call...
Doesn't come nearly as soon as I'd like, but then, does it ever?
Just when I was slipping into one of those 'sitting boredom naps', Tessa pops her head into the green room to summon me:
"Okay, Darwin, we are finally ready for you! So if you'll please follow me..."
Have to shake off the sleep in a hurry as I rise to my feet. But before I leave, share one last glance with Ms. Cabal, and her eyes show nothing but complete confidence in me, like I'm enveloped in a warm cocoon that will protect me from the lights, the cameras and if necessary, the audience.
Tessa leads me silently down a long hallway until we reach a door. Before entering she turns to me with her index finger pressed vertically against her shut lips; the international symbol for "be quiet"
Tessa then leads me through a parade of studio crew shouting and darting about with precious little time to complete their respective pre-show responsibilities, some moving more frantically than others, likely the ones with more responsibility, and more to lose should there be any screw-ups before or during the show taping. See why Tessa told me to shut it, there must be twenty people all talking at once as it is.
But none of that's my concern; I'm just a puppet to be placed before the crowd. Wait as docilely as I can imagine while Tessa intently watches the monitor suspended above.
Crane my neck up at the monitor just as the show is starting, as it does each weekday afternoon across the country, with the baritone announcer kicking things off:
"From the heart of the world's most important city...comes America's most important talk show...The Monica Show! Today's guests are Rev. Theodore Pleasant and author Darwin Grimm. And now, give a warm welcome for...MONICA SWANN!!!"
Like the trained seals they are, the audience applauds exuberantly right on cue for their daytime companion, their role model, their inspiration.
All smiles and waves, Monica emerges from backstage to a thunderous ovation. No exaggeration, it's a good 4.2 minutes until the din dies down. Monica looks even prettier on TV than she does in person; the camera loves her and she was clearly born to be a television talk show host. But she's more than that, she's transcended being just another TV personality. She's not merely here to entertain, she's someone these women all seek to emulate on one level or another. Waiting for the adoring din to subside, the star stands patiently at her mark, flashing her winning grin all the while.
Is this for real? Am I about to appear on this show hosted by a star of Monica's magnitude, scheduled to square off against the nation's biggest war hero of the 21st Century turned big-time religious leader, while promoting my bestselling book on TV's highest-rated syndicated afternoon program?
Do believe I've hit the big time.
Now that the show has started, it's calmed down considerably here backstage. Correspondingly, it's only now that the accolades have died down sufficiently in the studio for Monica to finally be heard: "Thank you all so much for tuning in and for those in my vibrant studio audience, thank you for coming out today! Alright!"
Oh goody. Another wave of applause. Between the cheering and the commercials, wonder if Pleasant or I will even get a word in? Actually, am not too concerned how many words Pleasant gets in.
Mercifully, the whooping and the clapping is kept to a minimum this go-round and Monica resumes her intro: "So as I was about to tell all you excitable people, we have a very unique show planned for this afternoon. I must caution you, however, it is not a show for everyone. Our studio audience has been cued in as to who our guests are and the topics we'll be discussing, but all of you out there watching at home might not be aware of the sensitive topics that will be addressed throughout the course of this program, including opposition to religion, and Christianity specifically. You may not like what you're going to hear, but trust me, you will not be bored. No chance of that, not with the two guests we have gathered here today.
"We are at a time in the history of this country in which we've never been more religious--or at least it sure seems that way. Certainly, there are an increasing number of people out there who are tired of all the sex and violence on movies and TV and also who have found that the whole materialistic American dream has left them empty--at least when it comes to filling a spiritual void in their lives. Christianity fills that void and offers a shelter, a safe haven from the aforementioned sex and violence."
Was that Pleasant speaking? Sounds like Monica's doing his job for him, serving as his mouthpiece, or at least setting him up nicely for when he does take the stage. Like he needs it! He's spent half his miserable life in front of a lens. I'm a raw rookie in every way by comparison. Hell, being an extra is the same as being in the audience; that's no experience. There's no pressure, no nerves.
"So for a show like this, we just had to invite the man who is one of the unquestionable religious leaders in America today, as he is founder, CEO and lead minister of the Crusaders of the New Millennium, currently the most influential--and some would say most powerful--religious organization in the country. Of course, before this man took to the pulpit, he was one of the greatest generals in U.S. military history, guiding America to ultimate victory in the Arabian Wars, ending the threat of Islamic terrorism once and for all."
A healthy round of applause follows, another warning it's not my crowd. This will be a departure from the bookstore signings, where the vast majority of the attendees were in my corner. Guess it'll feel more like the Stone Mountain book-burning, except I'll be sweating under quartz lamps instead of sweating over book bonfires.
Good thing Monica seemed to appreciate me when we met; will have to stay on her good side, which admittedly, I'm pretty crappy at going--but have to give it a shot.
Pleasant's untouchable, but this is a chance to dent that armor of his a little,
to throw some doubt in the minds of those who might sit on the fence when it comes to the prospects of a 'President Pleasant' .
"So please join me in giving a big Monica Swann Show welcome to religious leader and war hero--Reverend Theodore Pleasant!"
Pleasant emerges from the same nebulous backstage area as did Monica, distributing his trademark warm smile to what seems to be every person in every row. Even though he's a world-famous honest-to-gawd living legend, he manages to acknowledge both the adoring studio audience and the teeming masses watching from coast-to-coast (likely especially touching those across the Heartland and south of Dixie).
The applause for Pleasant is as authentic as it was for Monica. Not that I approve, but the man is a war hero in addition to being the spiritual voice for a generation.
Each of those things on their own carries a lot of weight with most Americans, but when the two are combined and reinforce one another...well, it's not unlike Pleasant being a virile rock star at the height of his artistic potency appearing before a throng of worshiping teenagers.
Monica and Pleasant shake hands and chat momentarily waiting for the adulation to decompress, then she gestures to the chair he'll take, on the right, naturally. Pleasant sits, looking supremely comfortable and confident. In his element, before a gaggle of followers. For some of these people, it's like they've been waiting their whole lives for this moment, to be in the presence of Pleasant.
But alas, all good things gotta come to an end, meaning it's time for Monica to introduce Darwin Grimm to a public that has never been waiting for him.
"Even though America is in the midst of a positive Christian revolution, as exemplified by Rev. Pleasant, there are always those who will stand opposed to such positivity. These lone wolves see the rise in spirituality in this nation as a threat to secular freedom."
Wow, I've been reduced to an animal by Monica or at least by whoever wrote that "script" she's reading off the teleprompter. Since I'm a vegetarian and have always felt affinity with four-legged creatures, am not offended by the analogy.
"Despite the fact America is clearly a Christian nation, it seems there will always be voices of dissent, and today we have such a voice."
Not sure I'm thrilled with how Monica said the US is
clearly a christian nation, but it's painfully obvious promoting conformity is her shtick. Needless to say, am more than slightly cynical about Monica's sincerity towards me as opposed to when we met less than a half hour ago.
Tessa's headset beeps and she's saying something in her mini-mic. Then she turns to find me already watching her. "Okay, Darwin, it's time for you to join Monica."
Nod silently and follow Tessa through a couple of doors and a hallway before reaching the final door. Another monitor hanging overhead shows an internal live feed (not delayed for broadcast) of the show.
After receiving another instruction in her headset, Tessa turns to me: "Okay, Darwin, when I get the signal in my headset, I'll open the door and you just walk straight ahead until you reach Monica. You'll shake her hand and she'll gesture for you to take your seat at the only open chair. Got it?"
"Yeah. Sure," comes my robotic reply. Can feel my heart pounding, starting to get anxious. It's like my every sense is heightened, partly from nerves, but partly because I know this is an opportunity that cannot be lost.
Like writing the book, it had to be done--and I did it.
"We have one such voice here today. He is the author of a new book, that may not be selling well, but certainly is stirring up its fair share of controversy. The book is disrespectfully titled
Bye Bull, as you can see..."
Monica pauses to hold up a copy of my book for just an instant. Have a feeling Ms. Cabal wanted her to show it a little longer than that. Still, it's safe to say that the cover of
Bye Bull is never going to get as much exposure as it just got in that nanosecond Monica held it up.
Also, Ms. Cabal must've winced at Monica's 'not selling well' crack. On the contrary, it's made all the bestseller lists. But she wants to imply
Bye Bull is unsuccessful, probably to turn off those who gravitate towards the popular, regardless of content.
Almost as if Monica is attempting to dissuade her viewers not to buy the book.
But can't be positive of her agenda--after all, she was cool to me when we met--so for the time being, will mask my suspicions, until I get a sense of how this is going to play out once I get out there. We've got a whole hour.
Monica wraps up my introduction:
"Please welcome the author, Darwin Grimm."
Tessa immediately turns to me, nods, and holds open the door for me to walk through.
And just like that am treading upon the the shiny studio floor, headed towards my one big chance to confront the enemy.
Just a few steps and have to adjust my eyes to the wall-to-wall cluster of lights as I come upon this surreal realm of cameras and live studio audience. Am welcomed with but a smattering of obligatory applause, though I do sense passion in some of the clapping, telling me there might be a few readers or those otherwise simpatico buried in the audience. But I'm kidding myself if I think this is anything but a Pleasant crowd.
Maybe I can swing some of the fence-sitters my way by addressing some of the most divisive issues. Though it is Monica who holds the upper hand as far as topics to be discussed.
Just have to bide my time...
For the second time today, shake hands with Monica Swann, but this time she's taller, like she usually is on TV. She gestures for me to take my seat, on the left side, at an angle from Pleasant's seat, so that we are facing one another instead of facing the studio audience directly. Notice that cameras are positioned at angles to capture both Pleasant and I speaking directly to the TV audience, the audience that really counts.
Not having to wait for any applause for me to die down, Monica gets quickly to business; still holding the
Bye Bull, she motions to Pleasant, "Reverend, have you read this?"
"Yes, Mrs. Swann, I have. I wanted to answer your question, but first let me thank you for having me on your very successful program, so that I may appear before your millions upon millions of viewers."
"You are very welcome, Reverend Pleasant. And please, call me Monica. We are honored to have someone so distinguished as yourself. Please continue..."
"Thank you, Monica. As I was saying, I read it because your producers asked me to do so before I appeared on your show" Pleasant responds in his familiar dulcet tones that have worn over hearts...and minds for many decades, even generations at this point.
"Even the title is an abomination. A mockery of the Good Book, the word of the Lord, the Holy Bible."
The audience, already in Pleasant's back-pocket, issues their approving applause. The 'great orator' has already kicked it into high gear already.
Monica returns to face her main camera, in the center, the one seemingly like a patient lapdog, waiting for her to summon it to project her indelible image out to the waiting world.
"For those of you not familiar with this book, it contains a series of essays in which Mr. Grimm criticizes Christianity and its relevancy in modern America."
More than a few gasps arise, likely from those who've never heard of the book or have nary a clue as to who the hell I am until they walked into the
Monica studio an hour ago.
The few clapping are the few who've likely read
Bye Bull.
And then it's time--Monica turns to me and the camera facing me lights up. Can't breathe...
"Mr. Grimm, what compelled you to write such a book?"
Mind's a blank and about to blow all my credibility to smithereens on the highest rated afternoon TV talk show...
...until Ms. Cabal's voice speaks in my mind: "Darwin, this is your moment. You know why you wrote the book. You can articulate these thoughts. Just let the thoughts come to you."
Surely, I must be fooling myself, psyching myself up by pretending to be Ms. Cabal speaking to me. There's no way it was actually Ms. Cabal telepathically conversing with me.
No matter--for it works, 'cause when I open my mouth, words exit in the proper coherent sequence:
"
Bye Bull was written as a necessary response to the disproportionate influence the christian religion wields in America today. This country is drowning in a faith-biased, err faith-based sea of irrationality."
That one was easy, because I knew Monica was going to ask that from Ms. Cabal's coaching back in the limo drive over here. Not sure if everyone got the 'faith-biased' joke however; am still too nervous and consequently, talking too fast.
"Christian faith is the only salvation for this nation," Pleasant responds most eloquently and is rewarded with another generous portion of audience approbation.
Hm, guess somebody forgot to remind the good general--make that the good reverend--that he was only to speak when spoken to during taping of the show. Apparently the Monica producers are more liberal when it comes to conservatives.
Meanwhile Monica steadies her tone with such a deliberate affectation to these ears that it tells me something big is coming up and maybe I should steady my own tone.
"Any program that features Darwin Grimm and the positions he represents has to include a discussion of abortion. Even though abortion is now illegal in the United States, except in cases of rape or if the mother's life is in danger, there are still healthy women getting illicit abortions performed. Darwin is an advocate of such criminal activity, are you not?"
"Of course I advocate abortion, Monica. But what really disturbs me is that you--a woman--regards women choosing what to do with their bodies as 'criminal'. The criminal act is that abortion is illegal in the first place. Abortion is one of the most
moral acts a woman can make in her lifetime; it's a woman doing what is right for her body, her life, and ultimately society, because an unwanted child is far worse than an aborted fetus."
That old standby I've been using for years, long before
Bye Bull, draws a few boos, and Pleasant once again ignores the "speak only when spoken to" dictum, and seizes the pause to directly rebut:
"The very association of abortion with morality is as blasphemous as you can get, Monica. Of course, we have laws in place to protect women who become pregnant in case of rape or those whose lives are tragically endangered by a pregnancy, but those are extreme instances and abortion should never be regarded as a positive occurrence. Even in the case of rape, incest or a life-threatening situation, women who have abortions performed often report recurring episodes of tremendous draining guilt.
"Guilt that is truly justified. I believe Mr. Grimm has said that true guilt can only be imposed from within, isn't that so, Mr. Grimm?"
Taken aback--both by Pleasant's direct address of me as well as his knowledge of my perspective on guilt. It's a moment before I can collect my thoughts for a suitable answer; a moment that is an eternity in TV time.
"Yes...that is the case. Guilt can't be imposed from an external source, like your false god. A person can't be
told to feel guilty over a given issue, guilt is a natural response after an individual concludes he/she has done an intentional wrong. Sure, people feel guilty when they unintentionally cause a problem, but it's hardly justified."
"You forget the other type of guilt, the kind that is externally imposed, by a judge for example. That kind of guilt does not come from within, and that is the type of guilt I speak of; the judge is merely a microcosm of the Lord God."
Pleasant begins to tread into dangerous water, like the shark I am, a drop of blood is drawing nearer...
"A judge is declaring an individual guilty based on evidence in a court of law; a judge is not an omnipotent deity; why does God have to
find anyone guilty when he already knows what they've done?"
"That's merely semantics, Mr. Grimm. God finds one guilty of sin the moment it is committed; each living being is bestowed with 1."
"But if god grants free will, why does god expect every single person to make the right choices? In that case, god would have better off creating an entire race of god, or sub-deities or holy trinities, whatever you're calling jesus these days."
Another round of gasps--a pure demonstration of relativity; here I am, thinking I'm being all tame and restrained for national TV (as opposed to the relative anonymity of the bookstore podium where I go all radical), and yet here I've gone and offended all these conservative christians.
Monica intervenes in her controlling way, "You're getting a little off-topic here, Mr. Grimm."
Feel looser, borderline cocky, so I interject: "Wasn't my fault--it was Pleasant who brought up the subject of guilt."
It's then I find Monica Swann isn't the kind of woman who likes to be challenged, but unlike Ms. Cabal, I don't have to answer to her after we leave this studio.
Still, best that I shut up and let her guide the show: "We were talking about abortion, Darwin. Why do you write--and have just said before us--that it is a moral imperative for women?"
"For women who
choose to get an abortion it is. And Monica, that is because women aren't vessels for carrying babies; the decision to carry a baby to term is their
choice. The decision to abort the fetus is their
choice. Women have allowed the dominant patriarchy--in the guise of christianity--to strip them of control over their own bodies in the last generation or so. Women are just as much to blame for the loss of abortion rights as the christian patriarchy, because frankly, they've allowed it to happen."
How much of a feminist are they going to say I am
now?
Pleasant again blatantly interjects, shaking his head like a disapproving junior college professor, "Studies have shown that the vast majority of women approve of the outlawing of abortion as a method of birth control. Murder should not be permissible in this, or any, culture."
Try to get around the "speak when spoken to rule" by addressing Monica directly "Monica, I can cite studies that report an increasing number of women seeking illegal--and medically dangerous--abortions, mostly in cheap motel rooms or converted warehouses, across the U.S. Is this what we want?"
Given the moment, look the camera straight in the eye for this one, "I just want all the women watching out there who are feeling scared and alone right now, you're not alone. You can find someone to give you the abortion you need, there are underground groups out there that you can find on the web and--"
Monica cuts me off in a sharp tone, "Mr. Grimm, kindly refrain from advocating lawlessness on my program. Women should not be seeking abortions in cheap motel rooms, putting themselves and their unborn children and risk. That simply sound...yucky. Am I right, ladies?"
An inevitable cheer from the slavish studio audience anoints Monica as the debate winner, due in no small part to her inspired use of the word 'yucky'.
Doesn't matter how Monica and her store-bought studio audience want to sugarcoat the shit--I know there's a growing resistance to outlawed abortion among women, especially young women. And some of those young women are watching this, and they heard me.
Finally becoming apparent to my dense noggin that the reason Monica was so sweet to me backstage was to disarm me when she put me in front of the camera. I "felt good" about her so I've been completely deferential thus far, while she can flip the 'bitch switch' on me without a second thought.
Course, she'd never think of switching it on old man Pleasant.
But if that's the way Monica wants to play this...
ABOVE GONE THRU NEXT TO LAST EDIT AS OF 6/10/10
Actually have to wait to see how she plays it, as it’s commercial time
“Alright, we’re going to take a break, but don’t go anywhere because when we come back we’re going to ask our very controversial guest why he insists on calling Jesus Christ a communist.” ITALICS
More gasps, though they’re drowned out by the applause and piped-in theme music that signals a commercial break.
Can finally take a breather, and quickly assess what went right and what went wrong during my first segment.
But first—water. So parched from talking and the hot lights, down my bottle in one swig and with a hand gesture signal one of the production assistants for more aqua.
While pondering further, a make-up artist reapplies and towels down my slightly perspiring brow. Tessa also butts in to remind me to only speak to Monica when spoken to, which I remind her I was doing a helluva lot better than Pleasant, but she doesn’t want to hear it.
These women sure are a lot nicer in pre-production.
All things considered, am holding up pretty well as the second segment looms, but need to slow down a bit, control the pace, being hyper has sometimes been my biggest asset—but it’s always been my Achilles’ heel.
And whenever I go head-to-head with Pleasant, have to put the old man on the defensive as much as possible—the aim here is to damage his credibility as much as it is to promote myself, have to keep that in mind.
The negative sticks with people more than the positive, and whatever happens to a celebrity like Pleasant will stick with them more than whatever I have to say in my own interest.
Good thing strategy is in place, as the Monica ITALICS instrumental theme that strains for elegance resumes and the audience applause mode signals it’s time to start the next segment.
“Welcome back! We are in a heated debate between Rev Pleasant of the Crusaders of the New Millennium and Darwin Grimm, author of Bye Bull ITALICS, the new book that attempts to challenge two thousand years of Christian wisdom.”
Again, her words are slanted towards Pleasant; he’s got 2K years of ‘wisdom’ while I’m merely ‘attempting’.
"Rev Pleasant, what do you think motivates an individual such as Darwin Grimm? Here we are, in the aftermath of the Middle Eastern Wars, and with Islam out of the picture we think we're on the verge of a unified faith in this country, but then you have dissidents like Darwin Grimm come along and tell us that we're wrong for believing this way, that we're wasting our time with Christianity. What do you have to say to that, Rev. Pleasant?"
"I think there's at least one person in this room wasting his time, Monica..."
Like the media whiz he has been honed to be, Pleasant pauses sufficiently to allow for sufficient cornball laughter from the crowd to rise and fade
"I've taken the liberty to do some research on Mr. Grimm, Monica, and it appears that he is nothing more than a failed writer formerly named Roger Grimm--who found he could sell a few copies of a book by changing his name to that of a godless scientist who has been discredited many times over, and coming up with a sensationalistic, blasphemous title cluttered with pages of trite negativity that offers no solutions, but only unrelenting criticisms of the Christian faith.
"I think Mr. Grimm's book only serves to underscore why Christianity is stronger than ever in this nation; people got tired of the negative culture of crude sex and destructive violence that was carrying America down a slippery slope of no return. Mr. Grimm's twentieth-century viewpoint has been transcended in this millennium because people are looking for something more positive than a message of secular hatred and division. People want and need to be told where to find God and Christ, they don't want to hear that God and Christ are not there to be found. Especially when they are told that by someone who is not coming from a sincere spiritual perspective, but with an axe to grind against religion. I have also discovered Mr. Grimm is a former Catholic, leading to speculation as to what happened in his past that lead to such hostility and resentment against the Christian faith in general.”
Pleasant pauses to soak in a little water and a lot more applause, leaving me to wonder if Monica’s just gonna let him filibuster this whole fucking segment.
Finally Monica deigns to address me: "Darwin, I wanted to get to what I alluded to before we went to break…calling it a ‘controversial’ chapter would be redundant, but we couldn’t overlook the fact you include some fictional scenarios in your book, including one where you depict Jesus Christ as a hippie and discuss Christ in the context of being a communist.”
Now that I’m spoken to—am able to speak: "Yes, that was a particularly enjoyable essay to pen, I must admit."
Deliberately didn’t give Monica the answer she wanted, and the frustration etched on her face tickles me on the inside.
Her follow-up drips with the insincerity she no longer bothers to mask: "We’re all glad to hear it was an enjoyable experience for you Darwin, but the question remain; how you can possibly hold such a position? Everyone knows communism is synonymous with atheism, not Christianity."
For the first time since the cameras first went on, I feel a sense of relaxation, my breathing is very natural, almost feel like I could kick back and say just about anything and it'd be right.
Not sure why that is, perhaps because she’s gotten so adversarial, it’s loosened up something in me.
"Yes, Monica, that's what we've always been told, that communism is to be associated with atheism and christianity is to be associated with capitalism. But a close examination of the new testament reveals christ is advocating revolutionary positions against the ruling establishment of the Roman Empire. And consider the well documented—that is, if you consider the bible to be ‘well documented’—account of christ overturning the tables of the moneychangers who were conducting business in the temples. Hardly making Christ what even a staunch conservative would call a capitalist, radical or otherwise."
With my peripheral vision, can see that Pleasant has lowered his head, shaking it slowly for dramatic effect, as if he's never heard anything more blasphemous in all his days. Not even the screams of the women and children on all the battlefields compare apparently.
Quick glance at the monitor shows the camera captures Pleasant’s pantomime posing for all the home viewers.
And Monica is never one to miss such an opening: "I take it you do not agree, Rev. Pleasant?"
"Monica, it is truly beyond me how Mr. Grimm can compare our Lord and Savior to some kind of earthbound socialist. Jesus Christ believes in the freedom for all men and part of that freedom is free market capitalism. When Christ drove the moneychangers from the temple, it was merely a demonstration of his demarcation between commerce and matters of the spirit. There is a place for business and a place for God, and they should remain separate.”
Clearly on a roll, Pleasant rambles on: “Let me make this perfectly clear to you and your viewing audience, Monica, that socialism and communism are systems intended to enslave the individual, that is why those systems have been bested by the United States over the years. From our struggles with the former Soviet Union during the Cold War through the Second Korean War and finally the Arabic Wars, America, with God and Christ the Lord by her side, has always come out on top over the forces of communism and atheism.
"The most unique attribute about Christianity as opposed to all other religions is that it recognizes the individual soul. Apparently, Mr. Grimm seeks to deny the validity of the individual."
Now Pleasant's twisting my words—there’s no bigger champion of the individual than me. Goddamn, the old buzzard is getting the best of me and I need a moment to collect my thoughts.
Am given just such a chance when Monica finds her favorite camera and tells it: "We’ll going to take a quick break and when we return, we’ll ask Darwin Grimm--why in the hell doesn't he believe in heaven?"
Clever.
Already getting used to the rhythms of a studio TV show, the hustle and bustle that fills the commercial break. It's already mundane, frankly. If I don't get a chance to express myself in this next segment, not sure if I’ll pass out before I storm off.
Beginning to wonder how this show is so popular, it’s starting to bore the fuck outta me.
And that’s exactly why Monica SwannITALICS is so popular—because it doesn’t appeal to anyone like me, which is seventy-fiver percent of the rest of the world, and nearly one hundred percent of all women.
Glance over at Pleasant seated across from me, receiving his make-up, takes longer with him because of all those wrinkles. But I see what’s hidden in between the folds and crinkles of his wrinkles,
And that’s what I’ve got to start talking about; Pleasant’s plans for theocracy, his connections to the ‘secret army’ of Derek King AND WHAT COMPANY
Running out of time to figure out what ‘context’ it should be in, just have to blurt it out whenever I can.
Guess I’m not so familiar with what’s going on here, as this commercial break is taking a lot longer than last one. With my ‘plan in place’, don’t want to over-think my strategy, so let my attention drifts into the outer perimeter of the studio audience…
Setting upon a pair of eyes in the front row.
Staring intensely directly at me.
Granted, they don't even approach the sheer severity of Ms. Cabal's eyes, but something about them still chills me to the bone.
In fact, so concentrated is the glare that it takes me a moment to pull back my internal camera lens to discover that the malevolent stare belongs to a guy; definitely young, no older than 25. Almost as brilliant as his stare is the shock of golden blonde hair that flops over on one side of his head. Peculiar haircut, but then, something's not right about this lad all the way 'round.
The solid chunk o' crucifix dangling from his neck tells me where his allegiance lies and that he's not gazing upon me with any measure of adoration.
At first, it's like I'm playing visual chicken with him, who will break first in this ultimate staredown?
Me. Close my eyes and then look away; the whole thing grosses me out, and the reemergence of the theme music means it’s time for the next round, one in which I need to land some blows against Pleasant.
Am rationalizing, really. There was no beating that dude anyway; it’s like he hasn’t blinked since the eighth grade.
Remind myself that Mr. Bug Eyes is just another loser in the audience watching me on big-time TV, not the other way around.
Resumption of the theme music clears my mind of all the bullshit as I steel myself for Monica’s latest inanity
“Welcome back! If you were watching last segment—and you better have been, ha ha—you know I teased you with the idea that one of our guests, author Darwin Grimm claims that there is no heaven or no hell, the belief in which is the foundation of our Christian faith in this country. So I say to you, Mr. Darwin Grimm, how in the hell do you know there is no heaven?”
Pause for the sycophantic applause to dissipate before answering, “I know that Monica, because I’m a student of metaphysics and it just doesn’t work that way.”
My hostess is unimpressed, and by extension, informing her audience they too should be unimpressed: “Hm, how does it work, then?”
“I’m not one of producers Monica, but I highly doubt we have time for me to go into a protracted discussion, which is really what it takes. Someone should come to one of my book signings and listen to a lecture—“
“Please answer the question, Darwin, you’ll have time to promote yourself later.”
Turns me on when she’s bitchy, gotta admit. But unlike Ms. Cabal, she’ll never know it.
“I was just trying to explain that it’s hard to explain—but if you want it fast and simple—heaven is a pipe dream, wishful thinking. So is hell, only in the opposite sense. Everyone wants to go to heaven and to send their enemies to hell. Once the metaphysics reward/punishment system of heaven and hell had been established, it was nothing for the various christian churches to represent themselves as the earthly gatekeepers of heaven and hell. A person is assured a seat in heaven if one followed the church’s dictates, conversely, one is hellbound should he/she run afoul of the dominant church. Thus, christianity controls—and has always controlled—by dangling heaven as a reward destination if you accumulate enough travel points. Hell is equated with the penal system, which ties into the whole fear-based system of Christianity.
“Again, to simplify; the purpose of metaphysical existence on this material plane is notITALICS to be judged for alleged wrongdoings, for it is those very ‘wrongdoings’ that the spirit is seeking when it descends into matter. There is no reward or punishment when one’s spirit enters the metaphysical realm, for it is about experience on the physical realm, not trying to pass an ethics class.”
Discern a couple of chuckles, letting me know someone’s on my side out there in that audience I see more as a wall of hostility to keep at bay, rather than a group of people I want to engage—like at a book signing. This experience makes me appreciate the signings all the more. Looking forward to the next one in…Denver, I think.
Monica quickly turns to Pleasant to make sure I add nothing (waste of energy on her part--I was done answering).
“Reverend, what do you think of Darwin’s interesting…theories?”
“Just that, Monica. They’re theories, nothing more. Like evolution; a theory, not fact.”
Like the stage magician he was during his years at the military academy and as a junior officer (before he “got serious” about his career), Pleasant pulls a bible from seemingly out of his hat and waves it to substantiate his previous prattling:
“This is the book of FACT, the Holy Bible. No theories in here, these are the factual words of God and the Lord Jesus Christ, handing down the rules and laws of how life on Earth is to be lived.”
“That’s a lovely Bible, Reverend,” Monica just has to drop in.
“Why thank you, Monica. I’m a collector of all sorts of Bibles. It is my favorite book after all.”
He chuckles, as do too many other cornballs in the audience and leaves me suddenly wishing I were on that airplane to Denver so I could reach for the barf bag.
Instead of refuting my points, Pleasant changed the subject and it’s suddenly become the home shopping network for collector bibles. Where’s the old testament bobbleheads?
Have no idea what direction Monica is going in next, but before her next words are completely out of her mouth, my heart pounds with expectation.
She keeps her focus on Pleasant, no surprise; after all I did just get 30 seconds of uninterrupted face time.
“Reverend, I’d be remiss if I didn’t bring up the outrageous section in the book where Darwin Grimm warns that you and your fine organization, the Crusaders are a threat to the future freedom of America.”
An array of disbelieving sighs, shocked gasps and sarcastic laughter discharges from the studio audience all directed right at me; the venomous vibrations almost tangible.
“You will understand Monica that I choose not to dignify Mr. Grimm’s spurious allegations directly.”
“Yes, of course, Reverend, we knew it was a touchy subject.”
“I will tell you, the live audience here today, and all your millions of viewers that if my lifetime of service and devotion to this country, in terms of military spiritual and perhaps political service does not speak for itself, then I really don’t know what does.”
The ultimate showman, Pleasant punctuates his statement with upturned hands, and the whole act is met with a showering ovation.
Frankly, I’m surprised Monica brought this up too. Only thing that makes computes is Monica’s relentless drive to make every show as provocative as possible—and thus, as talked about as much as possible.
Doesn’t matter why it happened, the only thing that matters is that it didITALICS happen; this is my chance…
“Since you brought up this subject, Monica, I do have something to add”—speaking quickly so she can’t interrupt me—“earlier in the show, Reverend Pleasant told you things about my past life. I’d like to return the favor and inform the audience—and all of your viewers—some things about the Reverend’s life many of you may not be aware of, such as, this ‘gentle General--as he was formerly known—has ties to elements of the extreme christian right
And while his association with Derrick King of WHAT COMPANY is all very public, there are some things about Mr, King that most of your viewers are not aware of, such as
CONNECTIONS TO RADICAL CHRISTIAN RIGHT?
Before I can get very far Monica regains control: “Alright, Darwin, I think we’ve heard enough on that subject—and besides, we’re going to a break and when we come back, we are going to put Mr. Grimm in his place by revealing to you the one thing about Christianity he freely admit he and his followers are absolutely powerless to defeat.”
One question—if I “freely admit it” how is it “revealing” anything? Ah, but such concerns over logical consistency are not for Monica’s pert head.
At first, my mind’s a blank as to what Monica was talking about. Then it hits me—faith, christian faith is the one thing that can never be defeated by argument, logic, nothing—it can only change from within.
One question, then—if I “freely admit” faith is unbeatable, how then is she “revealing” anything? Ah, but such concerns over logical consistency are not for Monica’s pert head.
So she’s obviously going to use that against me, but a gouging comeback pops in my head and a smile crosses my face.
With my verbal strategy in place, and with the break running longer than I anticipated, my eyes drift aimlessly…
Before landing once again on the chap who apparently hasn’t broken his stare even after I gave it up some ten minutes ago, before the last segment of the show. 1
Now that my eyes are once again locked with his, his gaze takes on a greater intensity, accompanied by a flash of gritting teeth, leaving no doubt he’s serious about hating me.
Looks like he would bite right through me, given the opportunity.
For the first time find myself scanning the studio for a sign of Cassandra, feel naked without her in sight. Know she’s around here somewhere, but can’t catch a glimpse. Almost tempted to look around for her, but the show will be starting back up any second.
As much as it unnerves me, going to have to sit here and just take being stared at by this loon.
Theme music and applause annoy once more, and Monica unsurprisingly makes me wait once more by focusing on my foe with her shtick of cornpone:
“Hello there and welcome back to the Monica Swann show! If you’ve just joined us—and shame on you if you did, don’t let it happen again, y’hear?--we are talking to our very special guest Rev. Theo Pleasant, war hero and founder of the most politically influential Christian organization in the twenty-first century, the Crusaders of the New Millennium. And I just had to be naughty and add the ‘political’ mention because in our very last segment, Rev. Pleasant made an allusion to ‘possible political service’—and I just couldn’t let that pass
“Let’s see, you’ve been a General, now a Reverend, so can we add Governor…or maybe even President to that one day?
That’s Monica, always fishing for the news-making bite; but Pleasant is forever too modest—and too calculating—to ever admit too much, even to one of the most popular personalities in present-day media.
“I am truly flattered by the interest that you and others have shown in my taking political office Monica, but when you take public office that requires serving the people, which I am fully prepared to do, however, in my current position as chief pastor of the Crusaders, I serve the Lord Jesus Christ and spreading His divine message across America.”
“That’s wonderful, Reverend, and we respect your mission to the Lord. And I know a great man like you is in contact with the Lord, so can you please ask him to spare you for about four to eight years!”
Monica’s minions bark and seal-clap on cue, in full encouragement mode, but all Reverend Pleasant does—all he’s expected to do in this situation—is to smile and wave cordially.
Everyone—even the powerful Monica Swann—knows that Pleasant will announce any official political intentions when he’s damn—err, darn—good and ready.
Monica deftly switches subjects, finally facing me: “As I teased before last break, atheist author Darwin Grimm—our other guest today—has admitted within the pages of his very own book, smarmily titled Bye Bull that he and every other anti-Christian out there is really powerless to stop the influence of Christianity in every day life because of a little word that is oh so very powerful: Faith.”
Applause breaks out; this new culture worships faith as never before. It’s like faith is a religion onto itself; could be an interesting topic if there’s ever a Bye Bull sequel, or maybe for the Denver lecture, still need to come up with a topic when we get there day after next. Ms. Cabal promised I could spend the first half of tomorrow sightseeing in NYC, since it’s my first time here. Our flight to Denver doesn’t leave until eight p.m., meaning we don’t have to be at the airport until 5:30/6, plenty of time to take a proverbial bite outta the Big Apple.
Jesus, getting as corny as Monica; she’s rubbing off on me, even as she addresses me:
“So I ask you Darwin, why write a book where you’re trying to put down Christianity, yet you willingly admit in the third essay—“
“Second” I correct her.
“Yes, the second essay, thank you. The essay in which you freely admit that Christian faith can never be overcome.”
Do my best to contain my confident grin: “That’s right Monica, in the Bye Bull essay “The Hollow Knight”, christian faith is portrayed metaphorically as a hollow suit of knight’s armor, because those who would occupy such a suit of armor are shallow, vacant individuals—at least when it comes to spiritual integrity. Christian faith is an impenetrable suit of armor that cannot be damaged externally, only discarded internally, when one abandons their blind irrational faith in Christianity. But until the faith armor is discarded, inside it is empty, devoid of a tangible occupant—the armor is a hollow shell.
That emptiness is the symbol for the incomplete person who relies on faith instead of individual will.
“Or to put it simply, while an anti-christian can’t defeat faith, faith is not something a person should rely on because it’s self-defeating.
“In that sense, anti-christians don’t even need to worry about faith.”
On a roll; finally feeling comfortable up here.
Until Mr. Weirdo wipes my placation out, punk still burning a hole through me with his gaze a few rows back in the crowd.
Leave his trip behind when Monica shifts gears:
"In your book, you write that there is no God, anywhere and that Jesus is just an imaginary character based on pagan mythology."
"That's correct, Monica."
"Then I have to ask you, Mr, Grimm, why are you doing this to people?""
Huh? First time today feel caught off-guard. Not what I expected her to ask; thought she'd want me to explain the logical contradictions of the existence of the christian god or the mythological origins of jesus Christ, you know, a question that made sense in the context of what she had just said.
But instead she went for the basest, most emotional of angles—the quickest way to win a mass audience on her side, the energy of a mass audience isn’t such for digesting challenging ideas, a mass audience is looking to be soothed and satisfied with the creature comfortable and the familiar.
Was thrown there for a moment, but relax in the next split-second and bathe in a warm wave of concentration, an opportunity seizes me--Monica's given me the chance to strike an emotional blow. I build up to it:
"You really want to know why ITALICS I’m doing this, Monica? I'm doing this to people because they need to wake up and smell the reality, instead of indulging in fantasy.
“I'm doing this to people because christianity has assumed far too dominant a position in a culture—ours--that frankly should have left it behind many moons ago.
"I'm doing this to people because they've allowed themselves to become lazy--at least intellectually speaking. They're walking asleep when it comes to the acceptance of christianity. They buy into it because it's the system that's in place and to go against it makes you look weird or anti-social to friends, family and coworkers. To be too much into christianity also results in an individual looking weird and anti-social, but that has more to do with conformity in our culture at large."
"Mr. Grimm, please don't filibuster," Monica asks behind tightened brow.
Raise upturned palms and shrug shoulders: "You asked..."
"You really don't care what you say, what you're proposing, what effect that has on people?"
"Hopefully it has the effect to motivate them to oppose the influence of christianity at every juncture."
Pleasant leans forward, underscoring his words with body language, "Monica if I may; something you just said I think is very important and should not be overlooked."
"Of course; and what was that, Reverend?" (Oh sure, with himITALICS she's all charming and accommodating).
”You mentioned earlier something about ‘what Mr. Grimm is proposing’. I’d like to know exactly what it is he is proposing. He is so violently opposed to Christianity, but what does he offer as an alternative?"
Without saying a word, Monica turns back on her heel towards me: “Why does everyone always think there has to be an “alternative”? Fact of the matter is, no 'alternative' to christianity is necessary; christianity doesn't need to be replaced, it needs to be abandoned."
More shock and awe from the audience, but swipe it aside as I ramble on: "There is spirituality beyond christianity, if that's what you're looking for. But in a post-christian world, a specific system of spirituality is not going to be shoved down your throat. There is morality beyond christianity, if that's what you're looking for. But in a post-christian world, morality based on christian values is not going to be shoved down your throat.
"Any why is the alleged message of jesus christ shoved down our throats? Because christians have to make christ real because christ is not real."
More outrage from the crowd.
"There is no evidence or indication that christ survived the crucifixion--independent of human fabrications, be it shroud of Turin or new testament. christ needs people to keep him alive, just like a float requires helium
On a roll, I press on, "The desperation of christians is palpable. If their christ were real, would he just not appear before them--us all, at least one? Why does it have to be a test of faith, when he allegedly walked among man once before? Why is christ's return always postponed? First it was 1987, then it was 2000, now it's...when? christ requires christians to be christ."
"Alright, Mr. Grimm, I think we get your point."
"Do you, Monica? I doubt it." Confidence is soaring right about now.
The Swann uses my sarcasm against me: “”On that contentious note, we’ll take a break. And when we come back, I am going to join my fabulous knowledgeable challenging studio audience up there as they ITALICS ask the questions of Rev Pleasant and the very charming Darwin Grimm!“
The audience’s delight in Monica’s jab at me is drowned out by the theme music and the applause, which is more like background buzz to me now; my powers of concentration remarkably vital amidst this cacophony.
glance over Pleasant’s way, as the Holy Roller receives yet another foundation of makeup for his crusty countenance. Try to soak in the moment; after all, this might be the only time I'm ever in the same room, at such close proximity, to the man who represents everything I'm opposed to.
Lose myself momentarily in the contours of his crinkled face, a face that has overseen the deaths of untold millions, if not billions.
The fact this scumbucket is passing himself off as a ‘man of god’ on this show, in my presence, proves everything in Bye Bull ITALICS is correct. Never felt more justified in all my life; must be how justified Pleasant feels every day of his.
It’s times like this I really, really love my memory, comes through for me at the most opportune times.
Teddy. ITALICS Want to shout it out loud, but hold it inside till the cameras roll.
Have to find the perfect time to drop it on him—and everyone else; that’s the key.
Now where did I read that? Oh yeah, Conspiracy Connoisseur ITALICS, great mag.
But this particular ‘fact’ is unsubstantiated heretofore, so Monica Swann ITALICS will be the proving ground. Kind of wild to think that such a seemingly trivial nugget of info in the middle of some article in an obscure conspiracy magazine only sold in the most independent/radical bookstores in certain cities (New York, Chicago, San Fran) could piss off one of the most respected men in America to such an extent that he would lose his legendary ‘cool’ while appearing on one of the most watched television shows in America.
If this does prove successful—to any degree—then I certainly owe Connoisseur ITALICS a debt of gratitude. Maybe pen them a free article since I’m Mr. Big-Time now.
Come to think of it, did Connoisseur ITALICS ever pay?
Internal chuckle bubbles through me; if I’m thinking about such little details, I must be at ease. Just in time to face Monica’s loyal audience.
Including Happy Boy, still doing his best to burn a hole through me. Wonder if she’ll pick him and wonder what he’ll ask me? (If I can be so presumptuous as to assume it’d be me and not Pleasant he’d direct his question towards).
Forget bug-eye for now as commercial time’s up and the Swann’s graceful cranes towards the camera once more: "Welcome back everybody to our most provocative show—since yesterday! We're just about out of time, so we have to get serious here--I've got a couple more questions for our guest and then our studio audience will have a chance to play me and ask their own questions."
Audience applauds at the little fish Monica tossed them while the host immediately whips her lithe form towards Pleasant, inquiring, "Reverend, do you see Mr. Grimm and those few who read his book as any kind of threat to our society and our religious freedoms?"
Clever; that must half been a halftime adjustment, she’s attempting to turn the tables from my earlier comments by suggesting I'm ITALICS the threat.
No argument from Pleasant: “Monica, I can assure you I’m not losing any sleep over what Mr. Grimm and his followers—if he really has any—are plotting or not plotting. However, I do believe the anti-Christian ideals he puts forth in his book could lead to acts of violence against Christians committed by those misguided individuals who would be so unfortunate as to come across such a blasphemous piece of work
“My best advice for all Americans is to avoid reading this book altogether, and for all the major media outlets to avoid supporting Mr. Grimm’s divisive book. I can tell you that the Crusaders are not interested in viewing and supporting television programs that intend on promoting his book in the future.”
“Present company excepted, Reverend” Monica quips, as nervous as she is kidding.
Pleasant’s response comes as gracious as always, “Of course, Monica, for you are providing a fair and balanced perspective, allowing me to serve as a humble servant in facilitating the Lord’s Word to counter the repeated falsehoods in Mr. Grimm’s book.
The Crusaders constituency will continue to watch your program with great enthusiasm.”
“Whew, that’s a relief,” Monica blurts, with a feigned gesture of wiping her brow, but there’s more than a sliver of truth laced in her mockery. The Crusaders represent millions of people in desirable demographics that the TV stations that air Monica Swann ITALICS want to attract.
It’s only then Monica turns sharply on her Italian leather heels right at me: "Are you a threat, Darwin?"
"No more than General Pleasant was when he used his political contacts in Baltimore to get an inner-city youth recreation center torn down to build just what everybody needed--another Crusaders church."
A few gasps in the audience, but this time more are on my side. And naturally, a cascade of hisses and boos in my direction, from those who’d favor Pleasant over me if he insisted the sun set in the East.
(Hey, what better way for him to prove he’s got a direct pipeline to the messiah?)
Naturally, Monica is having none of it: "Mr. Grimm, unless you're prepared to present some kind of documented evidence, you can't be making these baseless accusations against a true American patriot and one of the country's finest spiritual leaders."
"I'll have to email you my evidence, Monica," I remark, only half-kidding.
The Swann ignores my offer and along with my annoying facts and returns to the comfort of her loving audience and three cameras: "Before the show ends, we definitely want to give some members of our bright studio audience a chance to ask questions of our guests. Sometimes they come up with better questions than my whole staff of Ivy Leaguers! Also, when the audience asks a question, they're speaking for you, the home viewers."
Based on this crowd, that’s hardly an endorsement for her viewers at home…
Of course the audience takes Monica’s words as nothing but a great compliment and applaud their approval at being so acknowledged and provide an inspiring soundtrack for Monica as she ascends the stairs to her capitulators
Monica’s first choice of a face to shove her mic into doesn’t exactly reflect the perception of her ‘typical viewer’; smart stylish urban or suburban woman ages 25-54, rather, it’s a borderline senior woman with bad frizzy hair, glasses that rest on the bridge of her nose and a burgundy turtleneck about one size too small. When this woman speaks her nasal shrill tone is enough to send me seeking cover:
"Hello Monica, this is Rita from Yonkers. It’s truly a thrill to be up here, I think you have a terrific show. Real quick, I just wanted to thank Rev. Pleasant for everything he's done for this country over the years, you are truly an inspiration!"
Another ovation outburst and the gentle general nod, delivering a gracious smile to Rita. And then it hits me—I personally am nowhere near as capable of generating such natural sincerity, and doubt many others would be. That's one of the secrets to Pleasant’s success. He may hate Lucifer, but he’s a snake charmer.
"But, my question is for this guy over here, whatever his name is, Darin or Derwood"—to leave no doubt, turtle necking Rita sharply glares at me with pointed finger.
"I wanna know where you get off writing what you write and saying what you say. What did God, or Jesus, ever do to you?" She gestures wildly at the docile Pleasant, "What did this man--who has done so much for this country--what did he ever do to you?" ITALICS
As low as my expectations were, can’t believe this is the level of questions I’m having to endure: "This isn't some personal vendetta, lady--it's not about what god, jesus or General Pleasant have done to me--it's not about me ITALICS whatsoever--it's about what christianity has done—and what the Crusaders want to do--to this entire country, to the entire world."
"And what will they do?" she challenges.
‘Strip away every last freedom and civil liberty and reduce what’s left of the culture to a vaporous shadow.”
Ah, receive a strong rush from that one. Feels good to get in a few shots before this farce ends.
Monica’s not one to dwell on much (perchance one of the secrets of her ITALICS success?), as she’s already bouncing to the next audience member with a question, this one more fitting of the Swann image; a chic shapely shimmering blonde Long Island housewife, with a great rich speaking voice as she addresses Pleasant:
"Hello, this is Brenda from Suffolk County, and I just want to thank you, Reverend ITALICS Pleasant, for all you have done for America throughout your amazing life."
As the audience breaks out in yet another 'spontaneous' round of applause, couldn't help but notice the way ol' Brenda there glared at me when she emphasized the word Reverend. Guess she didn’t appreciate me calling the old man ‘General”. Hey it’s harder for some of us to let go.
All that means is that I got to her, and bust a wide internal smile in response.
Oh, but Brenda's not done with me, not by a long shot:
"And while I'm up here, I just have to ask this other guest of yours, Charles Darwin, or whatever his name is, I have to ask him why he doesn't attack other religions, like Islam? Why does he only find fault with Christianity?"
"Because christianity is the dominant religion in America, and the last time I checked, I live in America. But make no mistake, I'm opposed to all religions, all churches, and especially all spiritual leaders. And all institutions for that matter, be it military or government.”
Brenda is left exasperated and asks derisively: "Is there anything you're not opposed to?"
"You. Me. Monica. My publisher, Ms. Cabal. That woman sitting in the front row over there. In other words, I don’t oppose the individual. Or rather, I only oppose individual who would oppose individuality, like the good reverend.” Gesture towards Pleasant for emphasis, most of the audience groans in response.
Time is running low, and the audience member next selected by Monica gives me the chance; a tall dark and beautiful woman at that. She identifies herself as "Isabella from Little Italy".
And without knowing it, the Sicilian sweetheart opens the door for me to put the “Gentleman General” on the defensive
After Isabella issues the perfunctory heaping of praise onto Pleasant, she actually has a question for him: "Rev, did you know that Theodore means ‘Gift of God’?"
"Yes I did my dear, and did you know Isabella means ‘My God is a vow’?”
The olive skinned beauty smiles “Yes I did, thank you, Reverend Pleasant.”
Here goes nothing: “And did you know that the Reverend loves to be called ‘Teddy’ by his closest friends. You know, like Teddy Bear.”
Isabella actually giggles as I wait for Pleasant’s first-run reaction…
Glance his way, but he’s answering Isabella:
“Actually, I’ve never been called ‘Teddy’, just another lie that crossed Mr. Grimm’s lips.”
Sense the anger in his response; think I struck gold.
Confirmation comes casting a glance Pleasant’s way, his bitter ruddiness threatens to erupt through his pale makeup…
But it’s his eyes telling me everything I need to know—he’s in a murderous rage over my calling him ‘Teddy’.
You know that expression, if looks could kill? How about if looks could torture with dental equipment, flay me alive, eviscerate set on fire several times and beat with a baseball bat for good measure?
If it’s possible to physically feel someone else’s palpable anger--I do.
So Connoisseur ITALICS was right after all. Owe them an article—or something--assuming they’re still in existence. I’ll check when I get back to The City and if they are, I’ll make sure they find out about this. Shouldn’t be anything for Ms. Cabal to find them—or whoever ran it (underground zines tend to disappear quickly for a variety of reasons, ideological shifts and money being right up there as prime reasons).
To my utter delight, Monica compounds it by turning to Pleasant with great concern:
“Are you—is everything--alright, Reverend?”
Pleasant immediately brushes it off and does his darndest to turn it into a positive: “Of course, Monica, I’m fine. Please continue with the next question from your wonderful studio audience. You folks truly let me know that I’ve done the right thing all these years fighting for liberty.”
More applause, and from my angle can see the smile widening across his mug; the Rev is back in his element now—receiving praise.
Monica does what she does best—moving on, and finds a redhead named Kiera seat two aisles up from Isabella and her troubling name game.
The Noo Yawk is evident it Kiera’s screechy query: "Rev. Pleasant, will you run for president with the Republican Party one day? Please tell me it’d be with the Republican Party!"
It's the same question he gets asked by every reporter who interviews him. But this time, because Pleasant is not dealing with a cynical member of the press, but with a genuine admirer, so he refrains from the pat answer: "Let me put it to you this way, Kiera, was it?”
The redhead nods enthusiastically, thrilled a big man like Pleasant remembered her little ol’ name.
“If I did ever explore the possibility of running for any kind of office, I tend to doubt it would be under the aegis of either the Republican or Democratic parties, for neither one, not even the Republicans, prioritize Christianity in greater American culture to the extent that is necessary--if we are to save our country from moral decay."
Like a good reporter, Kiera asks the proper follow-up: "Are you saying you might run as an Independent candidate, Reverend?"
Sudden hush falls over the studio, like Pleasant is about to drop some headline-making news.
But the redundantly reverential reverend diffuses the situation with soft laughter and a qualifying statement, "A run for the presidency would depend on a lot of factors. First and foremost, it would depend on whether or not that is what the Lord would have me do, for ultimately I am but an instrument of His glorious design. Perhaps He'd rather have me serve as Vice President to a Republican candidate--if such a candidate was to make a uncompromising commitment to restoring American as a Christian nation.
“Either way, I have not received His call on the matter when it comes to seeking any sort of political office, so for the time being I continue to serve as custodian of my Crusaders.
“And while we’re on the subject, if I may, I’d like to invite each and every member of your audience to join the crusade—and the Crusaders—by WHAT?
Meanwhile, Monica has found someone else to rip on me; a bowl-cut brunette named Maura:
Give the woman credit for one thing though, her tone never fails to condescend throughout the duration of the question: "Do you realize, sir, just how many people you are offending with the book you have written and your appearance here today?"
Hit Maura with an oldie but a goodie: "I get asked that a lot, I'll admit. Still waiting for the day when someone asks me if christianity has ever offended me."
At a bookstore, it might have drawn more laughter than applause; here in the Swann’s nest. And with that, the booing reigns down o'er me.
And she just shakes her head, "See, that's what I mean, Mr. Darwin, nobody can take you seriously when you say such ridiculous things."
Smile with a silent shrug. At this point, have done everything I pretty much set out to do, so I’m ready for this show to get on the road.
But Monica isn’t: “Let’s see, my producer Talia is signaling we have a little more time here, so why don’t we get the male perspective, okay?”
And who does she pick, but Happy Boy himself? Monica’s golden locks competing with his to see which is worth more per ounce. He stands up to meet her microphone
Granted there aren’t a whole lot of guys in the studio audience, but still what are the odds Monica would pick the one guy who looks like he wants to rush the stage?
Correction: not “wants to rush the stage”; rather he is ITALICS rushing the stage.
Meaning, he’s rushing me. ITALICS
It’s like how some people describe such things, almost in slow-motion, like I can pick apart each individual movement of the guy as
Then my heart stops, or at least skips a few beats, upon catching a flash of what appears to be…
A gun
He raises the weapon, faster to the draw than I am at throwing my arms up in some sort of defense
At least I die knowing I got a book of my anti-christian ideas published. Can die happy.
He fires, and I’m struck, can feel the warm splash on blood on my forehead, my third eye.
Meanwhile my assailant is completely taken out by Cassandra, flying out of nowhere and sending her and the shooter hurtling into one the cameras, totalling it.
Now I’m worried about Cassandra. She isn’t moving. Did I fall for her only to lose her so quick?
Wait; why am I still conscious? I was shot, right? Why aren’t I dead?
Answered when a drop of my blood falls from my forehead and onto the bottom of my parted lips
Only it’s not my blood, have tasted that before when I’ve bitten my lip and such.
Instead…it’s salty…
Then a few more drops run down my face and my nose identifies—urine.
Not mine, I’m reasonably sure of that.
The shooters? Ugh—reach for my bottle of water that was knocked over and rinse with a swig, and spit it all out of my mouth, right there on Monica’s precious studio floor. Don’t give a fucking shit, my only concern is that I didn’t swallow any of this foreign flow.
Only then does some awkward DVNC security guard arrive on the scene, to help me to my feet and hands me some tissues out of his pocket I use to wipe my face of the piss. He also hands me his coffee cup he dumped out so I can spit in it. Noble sacrifice to give up his caffeine buzz just for me, but it’s still not enough, as I sharply drill the rent-a-duffer: “Where were you when this was happening?”
“I-I’m sorry, sir. It all happened so fast. Thank God he didn’t have a real gun.”
Quip in response: “Guess even I have to thank god, cause I sure can’t thank you.”
Find it interesting this GINO (Guard In Name Only) was out of sight when all this went down. Even more interesting Monica chose to interview him, giving blondie boy a clear path to run straight at me.
(That's right, barely been on my feet for thirty seconds and I've already got conspiracies on the noggin).
Better than pee on the forehead. Especially if it’s that douchebag’s pee, as I watch him being immobilized by Cassandra, her arm with a secure chokehold around his scrawny neck as she pins him to the ground, in the process earning every dime Ms. Cabal’s paid her.
Worth it because I like to see a beautiful woman taking down a radical christian male, and you know it’s just gotta be oh-so-humiliating for that buckaroo.
Eventually—after what seems an eternity—additional security guards arrive on the scene to cuff the my assailant.
As they haul golden boy away, he barks out: “That was my piss, Grimm! How’d it taste, you sonuvabish?!”
He follows up that charmer by projecting one more burning stare through me before being dragged backstage to who knows where. Anywhere--so long as it’s away from me.
By tasting his pee, there’s a grotesque connection between us now. Can’t spit it out of my mouth fast enough.
Look away as the piss punk is dragged away. Now that he’s securely in the custody of the authorities, in the next instant Cassandra rushes to my side:
“Are you alright?” she asks, looking deep into my eyes, only this is healing, unlike the creepiness of pee boy.
“I am now” and she takes my assurance at face-value.
Want to kiss her, and kinda get the feeling she wants to kiss me, but that’d blow everything before it’s even started so I resist the urge. Doubtless it’s much easier for her to do the same.
Not that we’d have to fret over drawing too much attention, the vast majority of the studio audience has scattered to every exit and even most of the studio crew vacated the premises.
Out the corner of my eye spot a security guard picking up the water pistol with a gloved hand, placing it into a plastic bag. A little bit of the piss drips from the container normally meant for water into the bottom of the bag, the studio lights accentuating extemely bright yellow urine.
Clearly, my pissailant is a man not drinking enough water. ..
END OF SCENE, ENTERED 7/7/10
"Of course I do, Monica. But what really disturbs me is that you--a woman--regards women choosing what to do with their bodies as 'criminal'. The criminal act is that abortion is illegal in the first place. Abortion is one of the most
moral acts a woman can make in her lifetime; it's a woman doing what is right for her body, her life, and ultimately society, because an unwanted child is far worse than an aborted fetus."
That old standby I've been using for years, long before
Bye Bull, draws a few boos, and Pleasant once again ignores the "speak only when spoken to" dictum, and seizes the pause to directly rebut:
"The very association of abortion with morality is as blasphemous as you can get, Monica. Of course, we have laws in place to protect women who become pregnant in case of rape or those whose lives are tragically endangered by a pregnancy, but those are extreme instances and abortion should never be regarded as a positive occurrence. Even in the case of rape, incest or a life-threatening situation, women who have abortions performed often report recurring episodes of tremendous draining guilt.
"Guilt that is truly justified. I believe Mr. Grimm has said that true guilt can only be imposed from within, isn't that so, Mr. Grimm?"
Taken aback--both by Pleasant's direct address of me as well as his knowledge of my perspective on guilt. It's a moment before I can collect my thoughts for a suitable answer; a moment that is an eternity in TV time.
"Yes...that is the case. Guilt can't be imposed from an external source, like your false god. A person can't be
told to feel guilty over a given issue, guilt is a natural response after an individual concludes he/she has done an intentional wrong. Sure, people feel guilty when they unintentionally cause a problem, but it's hardly justified."
"You forget the other type of guilt, the kind that is externally imposed, by a judge for example. That kind of guilt does not come from within, and that is the type of guilt I speak of; the judge is merely a microcosm of the Lord God."
Pleasant begins to tread into dangerous water, like the shark I am, a drop of blood is drawing nearer...
"A judge is declaring an individual guilty based on evidence in a court of law; a judge is not an omnipotent deity; why does God have to
find anyone guilty when he already knows what they've done?"
"That's merely semantics, Mr. Grimm. God finds one guilty of sin the moment it is committed; each living being is bestowed with free will."
"But if god grants free will, why does god expect every single person to make the right choices? In that case, god would have better off creating an entire race of god, or sub-deities or holy trinities, whatever you're calling jesus these days."
Another round of gasps--a pure demonstration of relativity; here I am, thinking I'm being all tame and restrained for national TV (as opposed to the relative anonymity of the bookstore podium where I go all radical), and yet here I've gone and offended all these conservative christians.
Monica intervenes in her controlling way, "You're getting a little off-topic here, Mr. Grimm."
Feel looser, borderline cocky, so I interject: "Wasn't my fault--it was Pleasant who brought up the subject of guilt."
It's then I find Monica Swann isn't the kind of woman who likes to be challenged, but unlike Ms. Cabal, I don't have to answer to her after we leave this studio.
Still, best that I shut up and let her guide the show: "We were talking about abortion, Darwin. Why do you write--and have just said before us--that it is a moral imperative for women?"
"For women who
choose to get an abortion it is. And Monica, that is because women aren't vessels for carrying babies; the decision to carry a baby to term is their
choice. The decision to abort the fetus is their
choice. Women have allowed the dominant patriarchy--in the guise of christianity--to strip them of control over their own bodies in the last generation or so. Women are just as much to blame for the loss of abortion rights as the christian patriarchy, because frankly, they've allowed it to happen."
How much of a feminist are they going to say I am
now?
Pleasant interjects, shaking his head like a disapproving chem professor, "Studies have shown that the vast majority of women approve of the outlawing of abortion as a method of birth control. Murder should not be permissible in this, or any culture."
"And I can cite studies that report an increasing number of women seeking illegal abortions, mostly in cheap motel rooms, across the U.S. Women used to sneak across the border to Canada and Mexico for abortions, but that practice was outlawed, as we all know, women
Look right into the camera for this one, "I just want all the women watching out there who are feeling scared and alone right now, you're not alone. You can find someone to give you the abortion you need, there are underground groups out there that you can find on the web and--"
Monica cuts me off in a sharp tone, "Mr. Grimm, kindly refrain from advocating lawlessness on my program. Women should not be seeking abortions in cheap motel rooms, putting themselves and their unborn children and risk. That just sounds yucky. Am I right, ladies?"
An inevitable cheer from the slavish studio audience anoints Monica as the debate winner, due in no small part to her inspired use of the word 'yucky'.
Doesn't matter how Monica and her store bought studio audience want to sugarcoat the shit--I know there's a growing resistance to outlawed abortion among women, especially young women. They heard me. They're logging onto the net.
Quickly learning that the reason Monica was so sweet to me backstage was to disarm me when she put me in front of the camera. I "felt good" about her so I was completely deferential, while she can flip the bitch switch without a second thought.
But if that's the way she wants to play...
Finally catch a breather when the first commercial break comes; so parched I down my bottle of water in a single swig. A make-up artist appears to reapply and towel down my slightly perspiring brow. A producer also butts in to remind me to only speak when spoken to, which I thought I was doing. Whatever.
All things considered, I'm holding up pretty well as the second segment looms.
Good thing, cause Monica and Pleasant are on the attack. First, her:
"Rev Pleasant, what do you think motivates an individual such as Darwin Grimm? Here we are, following the Middle Eastern Wars and we think we're on the verge of a unified faith in this country, but then you have dissidents like this writer come along and tell us that we're wrong for believing this way, that we're wasting our time with Christianity. What do you have to say to that, Rev. Pleasant?"
"I think there's at least one person in this room wasting his time, Monica..."
Like the media whiz he has been honed to be, Pleasant pauses sufficiently to allow for sufficient cornball laughter to rise and fade
"I've taken the liberty to do some research on Mr. Grimm, Monica, and it appears that he is a failed writer who found that he could sell a few copies of a book with a sensationalistic, blasphemous title cluttered with pages of a negative philosophy that offers no solutions, but only unrelenting criticisms.
"I think Mr. Grimm's book only serves to underscore why Christianity is stronger than ever in this nation...people got tired of the negative culture of crude sex and destructive violence that was carrying America down a slippery slope of no return. Mr. Grimm's twentieth century viewpoint has been transcended in this millennium because people are looking for something more positive than a message of hatred and division. People want and need to be told where to find God and Christ, they don't want to hear that God and Christ are not there to be found. Especially when they are told that by someone who is not coming from a sincere spiritual perspective, but with an axe to grind against religion. I have also discovered Mr. Grimm is a former Catholic"
It's at this point I wonder if I'll ever get a chance to say a word, let alone rebut, this whole fucking segment.
Course, even if I was talking, it'd be drowned out by the ringing applause following Pleasant's pontification.
Got to hand it to him, he's effectively portraying himself as the understanding sage while I'm drawn as a borderline serial killer, foaming at the mouth with venomous spite for their lord.
Finally Monica deigns to address me: "Mr. Grimm...you also include some fictional scenarios in your book, including one where you depict Jesus Christ as a hippie and discuss Christ in the context of being a communist?
"Yes, that was a particularly enjoyable essay to pen, I must admit."
Monica frowns as only a perturbed pretty woman can and her sarcasm is suitably venomous, "That's nice for you, Mr. Grimm, but the question is how you can possibly
hold such a position? Communism is synonymous with atheism, not Christianity."
For the first time since the cameras first went on, I feel a sense of relaxation, my breathing is very natural, almost feel like I could kick back and say just about anything and it'd be right.
"Yes, Monica, that's what we've always been told, that communism is to be associated with atheism and christianity is to be associated with capitalism. But a close examination of the new testament reveals that christ is advocating revolutionary positions against the ruling establishment of the Roman Empire. Hardly what I'd call a capitalist, radical or otherwise."
With my peripheral vision, can see that Pleasant has lowered his head, shaking it slowly for dramatic effect, as if he's never heard anything more blasphemous in all his days. Not even the screams of the women and children on the battlefield compare, apparently.
Quick glance at the monitor shows the camera is capturing it all for the viewers at home.
Never one to miss an opening, Monica is all over that, "I take it you do not agree, Rev. Pleasant?"
For added effect, Pleasant takes a sip of water before answering, "Monica, it is truly beyond me how Mr. Grimm can compare our Lord and Savior to some kind of earthbound socialist. Jesus Christ believes in the freedom for all men and part of that freedom is free market capitalism.
"Does jesus believe in freedom for all women?"
Uh oh, I spoke before being spoken to.
"Mr. Grimm, kindly refrain from such interjections. It just makes you look bad."
Ouch, scolded by Monica. Would rather be lashed by her.
Pleasant continues: "As I was saying, socialism and communism are systems intended to enslave the individual, that is why those systems have been bested by the United States over the years. From Ronald Reagan in the 1980's through the Second Korean War, America, with Christ by her side, has always come out on top over the forces of communism.
"The most unique attribute about Christianity as opposed to all other religions is that it recognizes the individual soul. Apparently, Mr. Grimm seeks to deny the validity of the individual."
Now Pleasant's twisting my words, a tactic that rubs me especially wrong. While sitting here, I've come up with an angle, but going to have to wait for the proper context...
"Now that that's been settled, let's move on..." Monica announces (Settled? Sez you, lady).
"Rev. Pleasant, do you have any presidential aspirations?"
"Well, Monica, this isn't the proper forum to address that issue specifically, but I can tell you that this nation is thirsting for strong spiritual leadership and someone has to fill that void."
"That's not what I hear, Reverend, but I'll let you off the hook this time," Monica replies in a downright cutesy tone of voice, like she's suddenly reverted to little girl status in the presence of big daddy general reverend leader-man Pleasant.
What is this, a one-on-one interview with Pleasant. I'm being completely shut out here. Not that it should surprise me, but I did think Monica was going to be more interested in a confrontation sensation.
Then again, maybe she does as she tells her flattering camera: "When we return, we will ask Darwin Grimm--why in the hell doesn't he believe in heaven?"
Clever.
Already getting used to the rhythms of a studio TV show, the hustle and bustle that fills the commercial break. It's already getting boring, frankly. If I don't get a chance to express myself in this next segment, I might storm off--or pass out.
This break taking even longer than last one...attention drifts into the outer perimeter of the studio audience.
Setting upon a pair of eyes in the front row.
Staring intensely right at me.
Granted, they don't even approach the sheer severity of Ms. Cabal's eyes, but something about them chills me to the bone.
In fact, so concentrated is the glare that it takes me a moment to pull back the camera lens and notice that the malevolent stare belongs to a guy. Definitely young, no older than 25. Almost as brilliant as his stare is the shock of blonde hair that flops over on one side. Peculiar haircut, but then, something's not right about this lad all the way 'round.
The solid chunk o' crucifix dangling from his neck tells me where his allegiance lies and that he's not gazing upon me with any measure of adoration.
At first, it's like I'm playing visual chicken with him, Russian roulette, who will break first?
It's me--the whole thing weirds me out, and I drop it and let my eyes wander through the crowd; others looking at me with disdain but without the threat. More interested in the attractive Long Island housewives populating the crowd; most probably not evangelical and some outright Jewish. Maybe their fans or this was the only 'Monica' show they could get a ticket to; it's been said a ticket to this show is as difficult to scrounge as the latest Broadway smash.
But of course, can't get the gazer out of my mind; can see him staring at me through my peripheral vision, can sense him burning a hole in my temple even when my head's completely turned.
Snap my head back quickly and find that, if anything, sonny boy is staring at me even
harder. It's like he hasn't blinked since 1992.
Can sense that the next segment of the show is ready to begin, so I pull back my lenses and leave that frustrated wannabe to his anger and focus on the matter at hand; I do believe Monica had a question for me.
And after the applause dies down, she asks it:
"In your book, you write that there is no God, anywhere and that Jesus is just an imaginary character based on pagan mythology."
A slight pause, so I flash pearly whites and respond, "That's correct, Monica."
"Then I have to ask you, Mr, Grimm, why are you doing this to people?""
Huh? That's not what I expected her to ask; I thought she'd want me to explain the logical contradictions of the existence of the christian god or the mythological origins of jesus christ.
Thrown for an instant, but then, when I relax in the next split-second and bathe in a warm wave of concentration, an opportunity seizes me--Monica's given me the chance to strike an emotional blow. But given the court, I take my time
"I wasn't aware I was doing a thing to 'people' let alone one person. But I'm your guest, so I'd be happy to play by your rules and use your parlance, Monica. I'm doing this to people because they need to wake up and smell the reality. I'm doing this to people because christianity has assumed far too dominant a position in a culture that frankly should have left it behind many moons ago.
"I'm doing this to people because they've allowed themselves to become lazy--at least intellectually speaking. They're walking asleep when it comes to the acceptance of christianity. They buy into it because it's the system that's in place and to go against it makes you look weird or anti-social. To be too much into christianity also results in an individual looking weird and anti-social, but that has more to do with conformity in our culture at large."
"Mr. Grimm, please don't filibuster," Monica asks behind tightened brow.
Raise upturned palms and shrug shoulders: "You asked..."
"You really don't care what you say, what you're proposing, what effect that has on people?"
"Hopefully it motivates them to oppose the influence of christianity at every juncture."
Pleasant leans forward, underscoring his words with body language, "Monica if I may...something you just said I did not want to overlook."
"And what was that, Reverend?" (Oh sure, with
him she's all charming and accommodating).
"When you mentioned that which Mr. Grimm is 'proposing'. I'd like to know exactly what it is he is proposing. He is so violently opposed to Christianity, but what does he offer as an alternative?"
Smile inside because I've been given another opening. I also realize it's the first time I've addressed him directly during this encounter, and I make full use of the opportunity with sarcasm: "Well, General, if you must know--"
Suddenly cut off by the disapproving tone of Monica: "Excuse us, Mr. Grimm, but please don't address him as 'General' He is know known as 'Reverend Pleasant' He is retired from active duty."
Pleasant laughs disarmingly and replies with one hand on a knee, "Oh, I don't mind, Monica, really I don't. It's perfectly understandable that Mr. Grimm would prefer to recognize my military achievements rather than my religious mission."
Uproarious laughter from the crowd. Laughing too hard, frankly.
With time running out in the segment--and for the show--decide to get bold "Monica, may I finish my statement, please?"
Already getting good at reading Monica; she's both perturbed by my request while simultaneously intrigued by what I might have to say--that it could spark beloved controversy.
"If you must, Mr. Grimm," she relents, with upturned eyes and a dismissive tone...
But I don't care, plan on seizing the moment: "As I was saying, no 'alternative' to christianity is necessary; christianity doesn't need to be
replaced, it needs to be
abandoned."
More shock and awe from the audience, but swipe it aside as I ramble on: "There is spirituality beyond christianity, if that's what you're looking for. But in a post-christian world, a specific system of spirituality is not going to be shoved down your throat. There is morality beyond christianity, if that's what you're looking for. But in a post-christian world, morality based on christian values is not going to be shoved down your throat.
"Any why is the alleged message of jesus christ shoved down our throats? Because christians have to make christ real because christ is
not real."
More outrage from the crowd.
"There is no evidence or indication that christ survived the crucifixion--independent of human fabrications, be it shroud of Turin or new testament. christ needs people to keep him alive, just like a float requires helium
On a roll, I press on, "The desperation of christians is palpable. If their christ were real, would he just not appear before them--us all, at least one? Why does it have to be a test of faith, when he allegedly walked among man once before? Why is christ's return always postponed? First it was 1987, then it was 2000, now it's...when? christ requires christians to be christ."
"Alright, Mr. Grimm, I think we get your point."
"Do you, Monica? I doubt it." Confidence is soaring right about now.
She ignores me and turns to Pleasant in exasperated tone: "Reverend, what do you make of what he has to say?"
Ever the gentleman, Pleasant pauses to collect his thoughts "Monica, I can tell you the same thing I would tell anyone when confronted by such irrational hatred--that true Christian faith is unassailable in the face of it all. Even Mr. Grimm admits in his book that faith is something his opinions can never defeat."
Damn, the old fucker trumps me again. He's proving more formidable than I anticipated. Thought I'd be able to talk circles around his crusty ass, but it's his media experience that's got him on top.
Still, there's one segment to go. It's like a boxing match; with the rounds counting down...
And once again the break is haunted by the eerie presence of the gazing young man. I bet he hasn't broken his gaze since he fixed it on me.
It's weird, kid probably thinks he's a good christian yet he seems awfully violent and angry. I, the blaspheming atheist scum, could never muster that much anger.
Well, not against any person, personally reserve such venom for institutions and religions, not human beings. For although those things are surely created by human beings, institutions and major religions also exist independently as epicenters of collectivism
Also, it is only through individual volition that institutions and religions can be properly abandoned, so am not about to hate on any of those who might rid the the culture of institutions of needless control and religions of blatant hypocrisy by his/her conscious decision to abandon it.
Hey, that's good stuff, I should save it for the lights and camera--if I get any airtime after last segments filibustering.
Glance over at Pleasant, receiving yet another foundation of makeup for his crusty countenance, and try to soak in the moment. After all, this might be the only time I'm ever in the same room, at such close proximity, to Pleasant, the man who represents everything I'm opposed to.
And as I lose myself momentarily in the contours of his crinkled face, it dawns on me what I'll have to say at my first chance to speak during the last segment.
Just 'cause it's like a traffic accident you can't turn away from, have to take one last look at my secret silent admirer...
Lo and behold, he's gone.
Then I notice several seats are empty for what was a standing-room-only crowd not five minutes ago...
What gives? Am I scaring them off that easy?
No--a quick scan reveals that select audience members have been rousted from their seats and are standing in single-file line before a makeshift podium with microphone stand. Presumably they're going to ask Pleasant and I questions.
And there, at the back of the line, is my new friend, still hurling ocular daggers my way. Bet he never even blinked the entire time he rose from his seat to stand in line. Bet his question is going to be for me.
The way he's staring at me, really have to wonder if he's going to ask me out or something.
And just before the cameras fire up again, catch a glimpse of the gazer, still hurling ocular daggers my way.
And when her show resumes, Monica commands center-stage, "Alright, we're just about out of time, so we have to get serious here--I've got a couple more questions and then our studio audience will have a chance to ask some questions of our guests."
Monica immediately whips her lithe form towards Pleasant and inquires, "Reverend, do you see Mr. Grimm and those few who read his book as any kind of
threat to our society and our religious freedoms."
I'm a threat to something? That's rich.
And apparently, Pleasant agrees, "Evil has never really been a threat to the Christian faith, Monica. It's a temporary impedance; nothing more, for nothing is greater than God's Glory, as exemplified in the Light of His only Son, the Lord Jesus Christ."
Pleasant is whipping out the heavy artillery here and more than a few in the crowd whoop fevered support.
Monica turns sharply on her Italian leather heels right at me: "
Are you a threat, Mr. Grimm?"
"No more than General Pleasant was when he used his political contacts in Baltimore to get an inner-city youth recreation center torn down to build just what everybody needed--another Crusaders church."
A few gasps in the audience, but this time they're on my side. And naturally, a cascade of hisses and boos in my direction, from those who doubt my veracity.
Monica is there to immediately diffuse: "Mr. Grimm, unless you're prepared to present some kind of evidence, you can't be making these spurious accusations against a true American patriot and one of the country's spiritual leaders."
"I'll have to email you my evidence, Monica," I remark, only half-kidding.
She ignores me and my annoying facts and returns to the comfort of her loving audience and even more loving camera: "Before we wrap things up for today, we want to give some lucky members of our studio audience a chance to ask questions of our guests. In this way they're speaking for you, the home viewers."
First to step up to the mic is a woman with curly hair, glasses that rest on the bridge of her nose and a burgundy sweater that's about one size too small.
"Hi, this is Rita from Yonkers. Real quick, I just want to thank Rev. Pleasant for everything he's done for this country over the years, you are truly an inspiration!"
The gentle general nods with a gracious smile that only he can deliver. Being serious here, don't even think I'm capable of generating such natural sincerity. That's the secret to his success.
"But, my question is for this guy over here"--and turtleneck Rita sharply glares at me, "I wanna know where you get off writing what you write and saying what you say. What did God, or Jesus, ever do to you?" She gestures wildly at the docile Pleasant, "What did this man--who has done so much for this country--what did he ever do to
you?"
"This isn't some personal vendetta, lady--it's not about what god, jesus or General Pleasant have done to me--it's not about
me--it's about what they've done to this entire country, the entire world."
"And what have they done?"
Broad smile cracks my face, can't help it, "Maybe we should clarify who were talking about exactly. First off, I don't think god or jesus have done anything at all, because they don't exist as defined by christianity..."
Let the obligatory gasps rise and fall before thrusting a finger directly to my right--at the personage of Pleasant: "That man, on the other hand, is culpable for the reckless spread of christianity across the globe and has now dedicated his life to stifling the last vestiges of freedom left in this nation."
Ah, receive a strong rush from that one. Feels good to get in a few shots before this farce ends.
The next loyal Monica viewer sports a shimmering smile and a Long Island suburban housewife coif as she addresses Pleasant:
"Hello, this is Brenda from Suffolk County, and I just want to thank you,
Reverend Pleasant, for all you have done for America throughout your amazing life."
As the audience breaks out in yet another 'spontaneous' round of applause, couldn't help but notice the way ol' Brenda there glared at me when she emphasized the word
Reverend.
All that means is that I got to her, and bust a wide internal smile in response.
Oh, but Brenda's not done with me, not by a long shot:
"And while I'm up here, I just have to ask this other guest of yours, Charles Darwin, or whatever his name is, I have to ask him why he doesn't attack other religions, like Islam? Why does he only find fault with Christianity?"
"Because christianity is the dominant religion in America, and the last time I checked, I live in America. But make no mistake, I'm opposed to all religions. All spiritual leaders. And all institutions for that matter, be it military or government."
Brenda is left exasperated: "Is there anything you're not opposed to?"
A composed reply shocks her: "You. Me. Monica. My publisher, Ms. Cabal. That woman sitting in the front row over there. The individual."
Doesn't take long before the procession of women, waiting their turn to stand at the mic and simultaneously thank Rev Pleasant--but not ask him any questions--questions are reserved for me.
Notice how I get all the attention; just goes to show, negativity is more capable of stirring people's passions, hence the choice of title for my book.
And at least one of my eyes remain on my staring blonde haired friend who is now separated from the mic by just one woman.
A tall dark and beautiful woman at that. She identifies herself as "Isabella from Little Italy"
After she issues the perfunctory heaping of praise onto Pleasant, she actually has a question for him:
"Rev, did you know that Theodore means "
"Yes, and did you know Isabella means
"Rev. Pleasant, will you run for president one day?"
It's the same question he gets asked by every reporter who interviews him...
But this time, he doesn't give the expected answer: "Let me put it to you this way. If I did ever explore the possibility of running for any kind of office, I tend to doubt it would be under the aegis of either the Republican or Democratic parties, for neither one, not even the Republicans, prioritize Christianity to the extent that is necessary--if we are to save our country from moral decay."
Like a good reporter, Isabella asks the proper follow-up: "Are you saying you might run as an Independent candidate, Rev?"
Studio gets a lot quieter all of a sudden, like Pleasant is about to drop some headline-making news.
But the genteel general diffuses the situation with soft laughter and a qualifying statement, "A run for the presidency would depend on a lot of factors. First and foremost, it would have to be what the Lord would want me to do. Perhaps he'd rather have me serve as a vice president to a Republican candidate--if such a candidate was to make a uncompromising commitment to restoring American as a Christian nation."
And then the subject is dropped. Still, it's more than Pleasant's ever admitted in public before. Wonder if my presence brought it out in him. Like, if someone like me is popular enough to share the stage with the likes of Gen Rev Pleasant, well then, maybe he
does need to run for President to make sure he can officially stomp me out.
But Isabella is not done, not by a long shot, as she turns to me with accusing finger jutting high in the air, thrust in the vain hope of reaching out and jabbing me square in the chest.
But she has to settle for a scolding yet consistently condescending tone: "Do you realize, young man, just how many people you are offending with the book you have written and your appearance here today?"
Hit Isabella with an oldie but a goodie: "I get asked that a lot, I'll admit. Still waiting for the day when someone asks me if christianity has ever offended
me."
And with that, the boos reign down o'er me. And the stare behind burns through Isabella's shoulders and into my chest.
And she just shakes her head, "See, that's what I mean, Mr. Darwin, nobody can take you seriously when you say such ridiculous things."
Isabella is going past the normal alloted time an audience member gets to speak, but she has such charisma, the way she's standing up to me, that they're giving her an extra 30 seconds.
THEN TURNS TO ME, DO YOU REALIZE HOW MANY PEOPLE YOU'RE OFFENDING, THAT THERE ARE 80 MILLION EVANGELICALS
And she actually
Desparate to cling to their gods and notions. They have to prove it's real. They try too hard, frankly."
FOUR COMMERCIAL BREAKS, DURING THE SECOND BREAK IS WHEN I FIRST LOCK EYES WITH HIM, CONTRAST IT WITH PLEASANT'S GENTILITY
And suddenly, it's just like that fantasy last xmas eve--when I was watching
Can say that with a fair amount of confidence because I’m no longer just watching TV-I’m in the freaking TV, or rather, I’m suddenly on DVNT with Pleasant. I’ve replaced the cub reporter Brent, I’m the one interviewing the Rev Gen.
Always wondered what I'd do if I actually were in this position, what'd I ask this bastard.
For a bit of inspiration, take note of Pleasant's #4 flatop haircut resting on top of his scalp like it was airlifted there, and lean in towards him asking, "How is it that a military hawk conservative such as himself ends up worshipping a rabble-rousing hippie like jesus christ?
Can barely contain the smile on both my faces; the face up there on DVNT and the face down here in the store, watching myself enjoy Pleasant's shocked, horrified, then enraged reaction to my honest if agitating query.
But this time he doesn't kick me square in the nuts.
The gazer from the front row, moving so quickly that he's in front of me unobstructed in just a couple seconds, reaches into his fatigue jacket and pulls out the weapon, a gun.
With nothing but menace etched across his scowl, he squeezes the trigger and the bullet comes flying straight for my forehead, my third eye. Going to destroy my brain forever.
Oh well, at least I wrote a book...
Not over yet--with my adept reflexes, manage to throw my chair back, in the hopes that the bullet will fly over me
Feel myself free falling, but not fast enough--I'm going to be hit...
In the split second beforehand, there's a blur of red and the gazing gunman is tackled to the floor...by Cassandra
And then the bullet strikes me, splashing warmly across my forehead, my third eye.
Splashing warmly?
It wasn't a bullet, it was a stream of--
OH SHIT!
Chair hits the studio floor...think I just broke my neck.
Not to mention I've just been sprayed by...piss.
That's what was in the gun. It was a water gun. A water gun filled with warm urine. That's how he was able to sneak it in past the DVNC security system. Apparently, they can't detect concealed pee just yet.
Wonder whose piss it is? Lucky none of it trickled into my mouth, saves me a whole slew of tests down the line.
Immediately, some DVNC security guard is lifting me and the chair up off the floor, and settling us both gently back onto the ground, where I remain in a seated position. Great, but where the hell was he two minutes ago to stop that lunatic?
Was said guard conveniently absent?
(That's right, barely been on my feet for thirty seconds and I've already got conspiracies on the noggin).
Guard hands me a paper towel and I wipe the remainder of the piss from my face, brow and hair. Glad none of it trickled down onto my lips or into my mouth.
Meanwhile, Cassandra's got the would be urine assassin pinned to the ground. More security show up eventually to relieve her. He doesn't struggle at all, but goes limp, placidly allowing his captors to handcuff him.
The whole studio is pure chaos at this point; people running and shouting and jumping behind seats and screaming.
Monica nowhere to be seen; reckon she was whisked off to safety the minute the gun was spotted.
Speaking of which...
Notice a security guard pick up the water pistol with a gloved hand, placing it into a plastic bag. A little bit of the piss drips from the container normally meant for water into the bottom of the bag, the studio lights accentuating the bright yellow.
Clearly, this is a man who isn't drinking enough water.
As they drag him out of the studio, he imparts one more stare upon me.
Chills me to the bone one last time and am glad that sensation is soon substituted for Cassandra hugging me, then looking around my face, apparently to make sure I wiped up all of the pee.
I d
EDIT NOTES
Just then the limo turns onto a street that's part of the infamous Hell's Kitchen and I'm reminded of New York's dingier side. We're bound for Columbus Circle, to the DVNC studios (their HQ here in the Big Apple)
Hell, Hell's Kitchen is probably all I could afford if I was actually going to make a go of it in Manhattan proper, as opposed to the outer boroughs like Queens. It reminds me of the area near the Stockton tunnel back in S.F.
Reminded that we're spending the day here tomorrow: "Thank you Ms Cabal for making the arrangements for us to stay in New York tomorrow so I can see the city and we can watch the Monica show."
"What time is it on again?" Cassandra asks, as she's obviously making it clear that she won't be venturing forth in this city she finds too oppressive.
Can sense that about her even though we haven't spoke much since our DC kiss.
"Four o'clock tomorrow afternoon, which is prime time for afternoon talk shows, and will ensure us maximum publicity."
Ms. Cabal answers, sitting there in her perfectly tailored business suit the pants of which perfectly accentuate those ladders to heaven some call legs and she's got it all figured out, every angle covered. Nobody could get anything over on her if they tried until the end of time.
My nervousness is neutralized somewhat by the nausea that overtakes me as we pass through the reinforced ultra-steel security gates that block the outside world from the private entrance of the DVNC studio headquarters. That's the one drawback to this whole TV appearance, that we're having to do it here, at the station that does more to promote christian culture than any alleged 'mainstream' news station has in the history of television, be it cable or broadcast.
And that doesn't change once we're at the studio building where they tape
Monica. Taken immediately to the green room area,undergoing borderline anxiety all the while; the bustle of activity going on all around me and the highly caffeinated tea I'm sipping on isn't helping matters.
Ms. Cabal is out of my sight, adding to my consternation. Said she had clear up some last-minute issue with one of the show's producers. Cassandra is standing near the door of the green room. I'm seated across from here, in a vain attempt to calm myself down.
A PA suddenly flashes in my face with a warning that there's only one more minute till I'm going to be taken to the studio.
Finding it a bit hard to breathe. This isn't going to go well, just know it. An experienced media vet like Pleasant will slaughter me out there in front of those cameras was worse than he did any of those Arabs or Koreans on the bloody battlefield.
Frozen by a pressure on my shoulder, light at first, then more forceful. Glance down to see a hand there. The long tapered fingers could only belong to Ms. Cabal.
Shouldn't even have needed the visual confirmation; who else has the touch to render me docile at a time I'm feeling anxious?
"Darwin, how are you feeling?"
She asks, even though she didn't have to, can tell by the tone of her voice, and more importantly, the look in her eye, that she knows I'm freaking out.
And it is those deep dark eyes that hold me captive once more, and more importantly, immerses me in a radiating shelter of calm.
She asks, even though she didn't have to, can tell by the tone of her voice, and more importantly, the look in her eye, that she knows I'm freaking out.
And it is those deep dark eyes that hold me captive once more, and more importantly, immerses me in a radiating shelter of calm.
"I feel great, Ms. Cabal. I'm ready to take Pleasant on."
Her confidence becomes my confidence.
"Excellent," and her approval flows through me.
"Just remember Darwin, you're in the right on this topic, nothing Pleasant can say can take away from that or the words in the
Bye Bull.
"I know that."
Just what she wanted to hear me declare, a warm smile is my gift.
Nothing more needs to be spoken between us; she turns and walks gracefully in the other direction, backstage, while I allow the PA to take my by the hand and guide me to the lights camera and action...
Not going to deny this is the most intimidating situation to date. Rationalized it at first, trying to quell the emerging nerves that all my years of experience as a movie extra would going to serve me well...
Kidding myself; I never said a word, I just sat or stood in the background. Sure, sometimes I'd pretend to be speaking in the background as part of the 'atmosphere' and there were even a couple shoots where I was featured along with other extras or an actor, but nothing could prepare me for this.
Of course, this is the quiet before the storm; studio lights are dimmed, but the whole stage area is bustling, the three camera operators making final adjustments on their equipment, various producers and producer's assistants dashing back and forth chatting on cellphones either yelling at people or being yelled at.
The calm center of the storm of course is Monica Swann, host of this highly rated and highly billable afternoon talk show.
Why wouldn't she be utterly at ease? She does this every day of her life, and seems to deftly handle being surrounded by a gaggle of assistants, make up artists, hair stylists and more assistants. Doesn't seem like this woman even breathes on her own.
And why breathe when you can hire some underling to do it for you?
She's attractive up close in person, not just on TV, I'll give Monica that. (Had my doubts). Her nose is prominent, but still restrained. Wouldn't expect a little dainty nose on a
But she wouldn't be so popular with the suburban hausfraus if she wasn't basically attractive, which she most certainly in.
It's a time before they cart in Pleasant. Not surprised to see that he, like Monica, is quite at ease in a television studio, in front of a live audience with three camera and three times ten lights glaring at the stage, with the realization that there are millions upon millions more viewing beyond these studio walls.
For the time being, I've been left alone in my seat, but then a producer of some sort approaches me.
"How are you doing Mr. Grimm?"
She doesn't wait for my answer but continues speaking; it's obvious she has a certain number of words to say and only a certain number of seconds in which to say them so I better shut up and let her speak
Not exaggerating, it's a good 4.2 minutes until the din dies down. with the help of Monica's false modesty.
"See how she's gesturing to the crowdShe appears to be gesturing for the crowd to quiet, but her fingers actually point upward and the cheers increase each time she points to the sky...or at least, the studio ceiling.
Monica
"The first thing I have to ask you about Mr. Grimm is the title you chose for your book. This is the first book you have written, isn't that right?"
"Yes. I've written anti-christian essays for years, but this was the first time I wrote an entire series of new essays for a cohesive book."
So far so good, Ms. Cabal has to be pleased with the way I answered that one.
"Obviously, one of the hot-button topics in this debate is abortion. For those of you who haven't read the book, and again, I understand that is a very large number of you, there is a section entitled 'The Moral Imperative for Abortion'"CHANGE THIS
That very title is enough to send another round of horrified gasps from the crowd.
Not from Pleasant though, he maintains his relaxed demeanor.
"What do you think when you hear such a title, Rev Pleasant?"
