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After closing the pharmacy, Plato went to retire, to get out of the sun. He took a few steps in the darkness toward the back of his reserves, found himself leaning over a pharmakon, decided to analyze. Within the thick, cloudy liquid, trembling deep inside the drug, the whole pharmacy stood reflected, repeating the abyss of the Platonic phantasm. The analyst cocks his ears, tries to distinguish between the two repetitions. He would like to isolate the good from the bad, the true from the false. He leans over further: they repeat each other. Holding the pharmakon in one hand, the c...Read more
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Pam, Pawnee, and Anna walked. They walked across an endless, flat, grey plain. Before them, all was completely featureless. Behind them, a trail of black words that had sprung up from the ground immediately after they walked over it, like footprints. If they looked down at this moment, their most recent footprints would have spelled out, “If they looked down at this moment, their most recent…” You get the idea. Pam was leading the way, walking mechanically, as if her feet were propelling the rest of her body, which was only along for the ride. Anna followed immediately after her, looking straight ahe...Read more
Appendix A: Official Bodycount Cat (first iteration) (trampling) — p. 2 Countless creatures murdered by Acorn (unspecified) (past) — p. 4 Goats (ritual sacrifice) (planned) — p. 7 33 citizens of Pawnee (bread factory fire) (past) — p. 10 Daedalus (starvation) (metaphorical) — p. 12 Cat (second iteration) (trampling) — p. 16 Nikola Tesla (electrocution by voltage leech) (past) — p. 16 Tauntaun (sliced open by Anna) (past) — p. 17 Bicycling man (dangerous bike stunt) — p. 18 Unspecified number of ponies (Russian Roulette) (past) — p. 20 Two ponies in the barn (shotgun) — p. 20 Stupid Fucking Pon...Read more
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[Trapped again.] No more or less than before, really. [I guess you’re right. So what’s this third “big concept”? Control, responsibility, and…] Choice. This book’s also about giving others (and even yourself) the freedom to make choices, and, more importantly, trusting them in their own choices. And accepting that their choices might not be the ones you want them to make. [Fits nicely with the other two themes you’ve identified, doesn’t it? You’re saying that I’m so controlling of others that I strip them of the ability to make their own choices, and I can avoid responsibility for any consequences bec...Read more
No, Dirk, I think that we do. You created something that, in your mind, is in some way alive. In some way self-conscious. And you’re human enough to realize that you can’t just kill it. [I never said that.] But if you don’t destroy it, you need to take responsibility at some point. I’m not saying you are or should be responsible for it now. But take responsibility for creating it. Take responsibility for disassembling something else in order to create it. If you destroy it, you’ll need to take responsibility for that; if you keep it alive, same deal. You need to think it over and decide for yourself to ...Read more
[How generous of you.] Let’s go back to the pharmakon. In Derrida’s essay that you’re so fond of plagiarizing— [You’ve read it?] Dirk. There’s more to my life than just children’s stories about ponies. My first book was about feminist theory as it relates to short films. [Huh. I didn’t know that. Maybe I’ll read it sometime.] Anyway, Derrida claims that one of the most important words in Plato’s Phaedrus is a word that’s not in it. [Right. The “chain of signification” begins with a reference to Pharmacia, and travels through other related words, like pharmakon. But Plato never mentions pharmakos, th...Read more
[All right, we’re here. Make it okay?] Yeah. As I was saying, that’s a pretty bleak worldview. One in which everyone’s machinating and scheming and usurping, and every act of control — which is, to you, every act — is one of violence. I shudder to think what self-control looks like under that system. [What are you implying?] That you desperately want to be in control of yourself, but you simultaneously fear it. Which is why you try not to think about it, and in fact can’t think about it outside of completely absurd structures, such as the one we’re in now. But I suppose you always were most comfortable...Read more
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Chapter 11 The Final Freakout “There are only two pages left to go, Dirk,” Jeanne Betancourt said to the book in her lap. “Not much space for a full-scale freakout.” [“I can make more space.”] “And I assume you’ll be the one doing the freaking out?” [“Oh, you’d better believe it. This book needs to be thrown into the river, and I’m going to impotently raise hell in here with my little words until you agree to do it for me.”] “And I refuse to souse any but the last page, so that Anna and her friends can choose their fates for themselves.” [“‘Souse’ is a good word.”] “Y...Read more
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[whether you’re doing what you set out to do in the first place, never bother to even figure out why (or even if) you wanted to do it in the first place? Well, I’m looking at the whole. I’m in the whole. And holy shit, it’s fucked. “You mentioned violence a few pages ago, and yes, that’s exactly it. I was violent towards the text, towards your text. I mutilated it. And violence can be creative, but I don’t think mine was. I was just being petty and immature, and then eventually hijacked the whole thing to make it entirely about me. Me, me, me. That’s what the entire second half of this story has been...Read more
[“They’re almost here; we need to act fast.”] “What were they just saying?” Jeanne Betancourt asked desperately. She held the book on her lap while Minos sat on her shoulder and Acorn stood behind her so all could see it. “It seems like it was really important, but you… replaced it.” [“Not replaced, exactly. Just drowned it out. It all still happened, you just can’t see it.”] “So you don’t have any real power over the story now,” Minos said. “Just the power to troll us.” [“Pretty much, yeah. I lost the ability to speak and to re-write; all I have now is the power to write. It can still...Read more
[We'll drag Anna herself into this mess. Pawnee, the pharmakon/pharmakos, is also Pharmacia. A nymph who ruled over a poisonous spring (liquid is the element of the pharmakon, after all). Pharmacia was the friend of Orithyia, who later became the goddess of cold mountain winds. Here is our Anna. Wind — breath. Breath — speech — creation. The Judeo-Christian God bestowed life onto man by breathing into his nostrils the breath of life. But even before this, it was His speech that created everything. God said, Let there be light: and there was light. God’s speech wasn’t just incidental, a transmission o...Read more
stopped, and turned to look at Anna. “What happens to us when the text reverts to the original?” Pam asked. “When we ‘scrape it clean.’” Anna was silent. Pawnee looked queasy. “We’re sacrificing ourselves, aren’t we?” Pam said. “That’s what you’re asking of us. Or, at least, that’s what you’re asking of me. I imagine you’ll be just fine; you can probably use your mysterious dyslexia powers to slide into that story, no problem. But what happens to me, my self, if everything was erased? If I had to guess, I’d say that that other Pam and I don’t have too much in common. If only one of us was g...Read more
The conversation then meandered into a lengthy discussion of the merits of artistic appropriation. Some tedious ‘but what is Art, really?’ semantics. The concept of originality entered again; they decided that while originality isn’t necessary for art, something original always has the potential to be artistic. Dirk’s text was, yes, original. It lay on the border between collage and décollage and, though hardly a human monument, it was still, by their definition, “art,” appropriative though it was. Not that this was relevant. Being art didn’t make it significantly less worthy of destruction. But it wasn’t...Read more
can fix all this, Pawnee. You will give the world a fresh start by scraping it clean. Flattening it, and becoming the Eve of that new old world, its progenitor. But instead of eating the fruit, you must refuse it. You must regain your innocence; all of our innocence. You, Pawnee Sanders, are the New Ape who Re-Sands the world.” “‘Re-sands?’ Pawnee asked. “Like, using sandpaper? A bit of a stretch.” “Look,” said Anna, “I did the best I could with what I had. Like I said, ‘palimpsest’ comes from the Greek palin, again; and psao, I scrape. Scrape again. Re-sand. It works, it’s good enough.” “O...Read more
themselves fly through the air; covered in radar-absorbent paint; heat ablating tiles covering their exhaust troughs; equipped with dual afterburning Pratt & Whitney F119-PW-100 turbofan engines that incorporate pitch axis thrust vecoring nozzles with a range of ± 20 degrees, each with a maximum thrust in the 35,000 lbf (156kN) class. That’s what Pam and Pawnee were just then. “Hey, Pawnee,” Pam whispered. “Or, should I call you Lulu now? You doing okay after your ego disintegration and resultant existential crisis?” Pawnee shrugged. “Nah, Pawnee’s good. And I’m more or less fine. I’ve decided t...Read more
Chapter 10 “Between the idea / And the reality / Between the motion / And the act / Falls... ...*Acorn’s Shadow* / For Thine is the Kingdom / Between the desire / And the spasm / Between the potency / And the existence / Between the essence / And the descent / Falls... ...*Acorn’s Shadow* / For Thine is the Kingdom / For Thine is / Life is / For Thine is the / This is the way the world ends / This is the way the world ends / This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang but a whimper.” Between the conception / And the creation / Between the emotion / And the response / Falls... ...*...Read more
[But she’ll be inverted too. I won’t give you a string to lead you out of the labyrinth. No, I’m going to use the string entrap you even further. I’ll inscribe you into the labyrinth, into the text itself. Here’s some fucking wordplay for you: plot thread. Spinning a yarn. To weave a tale. All culminating in the creation of — you’ll appreciate this— a textile.” “Bravo,” Dirk said warmly. “I’m impressed. And I do appreciate it. Just one request before you imprison me in this metaphor: ‘Minotaur’ is so crass. I’d prefer ‘Asterion.’” “Ironically?” Anna asked. “Of course.” “Aren’t you goin...Read more
[The diaphanous light began to pour from Anna’s shoulder again, but this time, instead of falling onto the ground as a liquid, it began to consolidate into a physical form. “Yes, they must,” Anna said, taking a step towards Dirk. The light shifted and churned, finally resolving into its new, solid form. It was an arm. A silver, shimmering arm, made of pure light. The arm held a sword. Anna continued advancing. Dirk stood motionless. “You’ve put all of us through hell,” Anna said. “Both figuratively and literally. We were supposed to be the Pony Pals. Three friends who like to ride their fucking ...Read more
[took Lulu on his animal trips. … When she turned ten, her father decided that Lulu should live in one place for a while. That’s when she came to Wiggins to stay with her grandmother.’” “What? No!” Pawnee said, recoiling from Anna. “My mother didn’t die, she eloped with Joe Biden. And I live with Greg Daniels and Michael Schur, not my grandmother. And I’m not a girl named Lulu, I’m the city of Pawnee, Indiana!” Pam furrowed her brow. “That doesn’t sound quire right …” “Exactly!” Anna said excitedly. “Because it makes no fucking sense! Pawnee, you were supposed to be a normal girl, populatio...Read more
[“It’s over, Brandy,” the doctor bellowed over the shrieking wind. “Can’t you see that you’ve lost? I’ve already released the hostages. And—” he stepped over the body of the panther that still lay sprawled on the ground “—and I’ve found the sacred katana! Just tell me how to disarm the bomb and I’ll let you live.” Brandy laughed a joyless laugh as he grabbed the last Fabergé egg off the billiard table and hurled it out the window. It was instantly consumed by the blizzard. Dr. Crandal winced. “Even if I know where it is,” Brandy said, his accent thick, “what makes you think I know how to disarm it?” ...Read more
[making me feel like I’m the asshole for not instantly and magically understanding everything.” Anna nodded. “Yes, I do owe both of you that.” In an instant, the trickle of the mysterious, shimmering fluid dripping from Anna’s left shoulder turned into a torrent. A blast of radiance that hit the ground, and then reflected straight up, growing stronger and wider and brighter, until all three of the Pony Pals were engulfed by a column of the… light, the liquid? Light? It was… She was… The light… was… Oh. Now I understand. Of course I can’t describe it. The light is, or represents, a… barrier that ...Read more
[be poetic? You want whatever tragedy there is in it to be dramatic and orderly and cathartic, because you think that’ll give it purpose, meaning? Does thinking of yourself as a character in a story make you sleep easier at night? After all, if everyone else is ‘just a character’ too, then you’re justified in your complete inability to make genuine connections with them. Or do you genuinely believe that there’s an author-figure controlling your life? Because that would be at best incredibly vain, and at worst a symptom of psychosis.” “Fine, you’ve got me all figured out. Congrats. You win the Freudy...Read more
[“You just love your little allusions, don’t you, Dirk?” Anna said. “Gotta make sure everybody knows how well-read you are. God forbid someone think you don’t have any Baudelaire memorized, right?” “Fuck.” “C'est que notre âme, hélas! n'est pas assez hardie,” Pam whispered. “I didn’t know you spoke French,” Pawnee whispered back. “I don’t…” “It seems like you’ve figured it out already,” Anna said, “but for the sake of my chatty friends behind me, I’ll spell it out. I passed through everything — every poem, every novel, every essay — that you quoted or paraphrased or just plain sto...Read more
[grooming himself. Jeanne Betancourt followed suit. (The jumping off Acorn, that is, not the grooming part.) Betancourt took a deep breath of this living air, and took a few steps towards the preternatural stream. She noted the fact that Acorn did not drink from it, even though he was still panting from exertion after his impossible run. She peered at the other bank of the river, and saw nothing but a silvery mist, obscuring everything, but occasionally thinning in patches, offering a tantalizing glimpse of— The author sat on a wide, flat rock that overlooked the river, and Minos jumped up to jo...Read more
Chapter 9 Three Ideas [“So what now?” Jeanne Betancourt asked. She was sitting on a flat, wide rock next to Minos while Acorn stood nearby. All three were gazing at the imposing river that flowed in front of them. Its water was clear, impossibly clear. Almost painfully clear. Almost invisible. In fact, if not for the sound of rushing water, they might not have known that there was a river there at all. On the river’s other bank, there hung a silvery mist, obscuring everything, but occasionally thinning in patches, offering a tantalizing glimpse of— and then it was gone. But the bank wher...Read more
[“Yeah, you can add me to the list of people who want to know what the fuck’s going on,” Pawnee said as she and Pam drew back their hands. “And I’m pretty damn sure you’re on that list too, Pam.” Pam was silent. “Then let me explain,” Anna said. “I’ll explain it all.” “Okay, good, info-dump time,” Dirk said, inching closer to the girl, the town, and the… whatever it was that Anna had become. “And let’s just go through the highlight reel, since I’m pretty sure that letting those three fuckers hold onto that book for too long isn’t the greatest of all conceivable ideas. So give it to me bound...Read more
[At last, Anna pulled away from Acorn. She stood on tiptoe, whispered one last secret in his ear, then stepped backwards, away from him. She kept her hand on his mane as long as she could, and left it outstretched for several moments after the contact broke. Anna once again stood in the middle of the clearing, the middle of the universe. She gazed at the pony she loved more than anything, including herself. “Now,” she whispered. Immediately, Acorn sprung into action. He moved with a preternatural speed and agility; a machine of oiled muscle, a brilliant quicksilver torrent, a cascade of light an...Read more
[Anna’s eyes, which had been flickering wildly, suddenly snapped back to their usual deep, cloudy brown. But now, there was an otherworldly glow bordering her irises, as if a power inside the Anna’s skull was struggling to escape, but was being held in check by the girl’s willpower alone. She began to stand. Pam, kneeling by her in the snow, gasped in shock and relief, and cautiously scooted away. (To be completely honest, Pam’s gasp was due to shock, relief, and fear. So much fear.) As Anna stood, her robotic arm did not come with her. It remained on the could ground, lifeless and motionless me...Read more
[Minos looked bemused by Dirk’s outburst. “Is this another pretentious meta-thing that I wouldn’t understand?” Dirk sighed. “Yeah, pretty much. Things are really coming apart at the seams now. Unraveling. Which is why it’s so fucking imperative that you help me.” “As I was saying before you began yelling at nothing,” Minos said, “I can’t vote now, because I never heard Acorn’s sins.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Dirk said. He knelt in the snow (canon) to look Minos right in his bottomless kitty eyes. “I read all them to you and Jeanne ten minutes ago.” The cat sat up and shru...Read more
[At this point, the narrative realized that it had been neglecting the other five characters for too long. And with Dirk’s attention elsewhere, the narrative shook free from the stranglehold he’d previously had on it, and it began to stretch its legs. Wander around a bit. “Let’s see what Acorn’s up to,” the narrative thought to itself. Acorn was still freaking the fuck out. “Okay, not up to that much,” the narrative thought. “How about Pawnee and Jeanne Betancourt? That could be interesting. Maybe we’re finally addressing the fact that Pawnee is simultaneously a town and a girl. Like, what’s up ...Read more
“Okay, so Betancourt votes to save Acorn, I vote to erase him, you want more evidence, I take us all on this bullshit Wonderful Life interlude, she’s tricked into thinking that it’s actually Acorn who fucked up the book so bad, she changes her vote, you have doubts but respect that a majority’s been reached, you wave your paws or whatever, Acorn’s gone, the book starts falling apart even more, Jeanne realizes what’s really happening, and the anvil of dramatic irony drops on her head. She was the creator, she becomes the destroyer. Fin. Then appendix A, and then the Final Freakout, where Acorn tries to com...Read more
[Pawnee, however, didn’t so much as glance at Anna’s prone body. She had her mind on only one thing: vengeance. While Pam berated/tended to their friend, Pawnee marched straight to Jeanne Betancourt and got all up in her business. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are,” she hissed at the author, “but you’re wrapped up in all of this somehow. You’re in league with that fucking cat and… whoever that douche in the pointy shades is.” She slowly walked forward, step by accusatory step, forcing Betancourt to inch backwards until her back was pressed up against one of the chalky trees that circumscribed t...Read more
Chapter 8 Homeless [“What are they doing here?” Dirk muttered to himself. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.” He grabbed the thin purple book from his pocket, held it close to his face, and began frantically leafing through it. Acorn was pretty much going apeshit at the sight of Anna. Just freaking the fuck out. As ponies are wont to do. Christ, he was just… he was all over the place. Jesus. Fuckin’ ponies, man. Jeanne Betancourt, accustomed to such pony-related fuckery, managed to circumvent Acorn’s freakout and gingerly approached the Pony Pals, as if uncertain that it was really the...Read more
[Pam] stopped and held up a hand. “Listen,” she said. “What’s that?” The girls stood still and listened. Anna heard a faint meow. “It’s a cat,” she whispered. [She smiled. Her smile was far redder than the blood, and far colder than the snow.] [——— “—while wearing a powdered wig. And finally, number six hundred and sixty six: embezzlement.” Dirk closed the book, tucked it into his back pocket, and looked at Acorn. “Truly, an impressive and intimidating list of sins.” Betancourt shook her head sadly. Minos looked solemn; he wasn’t even shitting, which is kind of his gimmick, so you coul...Read more
[——— The three girls trudged through the snow silently. Pawnee and Pam had left Lightning and Lil’ Seb behind miles ago. They’d told the ponies to return home and had pointed them in the right direction. If they just followed the trail in a straight line for a few minutes, they’d be back at the barn. But the girls didn’t hold out much hope that the ponies would make it, because, as has been covered earlier in this book, ponies are incredibly fucking stupid. At this very moment, Lil’ Seb and Lightning were probably freezing to death or falling off of cliffs or trying to eat each other or some stupid s...Read more
[17b Acorn: And what are those numbers and letters over there? Minos: Let this, then, be our invocation of the Gods, to which I add an exhortation of myself to speak in such manner as will be most intelligible to you, and will most accord with my own intent. Acorn: Wait. I know what’s happening. Betancourt: A good and fair invocation. Now it must fall upon Dirk to begin the reading of the sins, while Minos and I listen attentively and comment on occasion as we see fit. Minos: Excellent, Jeanne; and we will do precisely as you bid us. The prelude is charming, and is already accepted by us — may we beg ...Read more
[“…What the Christ-shitting fuck are you talking about?” Acorn neighed. Dirk shrugged. “You tell me. But all that aside, I should tell you how this all will go down. Now, Acorn, even the most cursory examination of your crimes makes it apparent that your soul is unfit for any sort of reward in the afterlife. But torture and torment hardly seem right either.” “Yes. We won’t’ be making a choice between heaven and hell,” Betancourt said. “It’s much more weighty than that. It’s a choice between existence and nonexistence.” Minos nodded. “We — well, the two of them — have control over your narra...Read more
[“The point, Acorn,” Jeanne continued, interrupting my didactic parenthetical edification, “is that we created you, and so we’re in a unique position to judge you for the horrible things you’ve apparently done.” “‘Apparently’?” Acorn whinnied. “So you don’t even know what you’re judging me for?” “They don’t know yet,” Dirk said. “I’m going to have to read them.” He pulled a thin, worn paperback book from his back pocket. Its cover showed a picture of a pony, and was defaced with some vulgar and hilarious text. “‘Read’ being a loaded term, of course. Vocare versus legere. Isn’t it funny that the ...Read more
[“Then it is settled,” Pam said. “We follow that fucking cat and descend into hell together. Then we find Acorn, free him from the eternal damnation that he is surely suffering at this very moment, and lead him back with us, where he will live out the rest of his sinful days haunted by the knowledge of what awaits him when he inevitably is pulled back into the pit.” “And then we can all ride our ponies down the Pony Pal Trail!” Pawnee blubbered excitedly.] Anna smiled at her friends. “Thank you.” “Pony Pals stick together,” said Pam. [——— Acorn seethed as he watched Minos smugly shit off th...Read more
Chapter 7 Blood in the Snow [Pawnee] and Pam exchanged a worried [ferret]. They couldn’t make Anna see reason when [she was so blinded by the special love a girl feels for her pony]. But they couldn’t leave [the world of the living to save a millennia-old pony that was closer to a god than anything else that ever trod the earth] either. [The worried ferret squirmed out of Pam’s hands and ran off to worry elsewhere.] Pam sighed. “We’ll [go to hell] with you,” she said. [Anna turned back around, tears welling up in her eyes.] “Maybe you and Acorn [can be redeemed],” said [Pawnee]. “Maybe the c...Read more
“Then you two can go back,” said Anna angrily. “I’m going to [go into that good night, and I’m sure as fuck not going gentle]." She put out her hand[, beckoning for the only two friends she had left in this world to come with her. “Burn and rave with me,” she whispered. “Catch and sing the sun in flight. Rage, rage against the dying of the light; both Acorn’s and your own.] “You can’t [go fucking Orpheus on our asses now]!” yelled [Pawnee. She had only recently learned basic Greek mythology, and showed off this new knowledge at every opportunity.] Anna put her hands on her hips. “Oh, yes I can!”...Read more
[“You can stop here, Acorn,” said the cat. “What part of Hades’ lair is this that you / Have brought me to, you—” “No, we’re done with the terza rima now. You don’t have to talk in iambics anymore.” “That’s a relief,” said Acorn, relishing the dactyl. Acorn glanced around at their stopping place. The slimy banks of the Acheron had long since transitioned into a forest of dead, white trees, through which the pony and the cat had been walking for what felt like either minutes, hours, or decades. But now Acorn and the god damned cat stood in a small clearing, filled with cold, flat light ...Read more
[In Gilead there’s not a drop of balm, Nor respite nor nepenthe to be found; The shepherd’s absent from King David’s psalm, For in the river Enon He was drowned. Towards other rivers now sped Acorn on, Which through this murky landscape curled and wound: Cocytus, Lethe, Styx, and Phlegethon. ‘Twas Acheron, though, that they now drew near, And Acorn knew he’d seen his final dawn. Grim Charon waited at his marshy pier, But Acorn whinnied, “Fuck that noise,” and leapt Into the waters, biting back his fear. Against the rotting waves the pony schlepped, Amidst a thousand thousand slimy sou...Read more