Givorak's Nightmare
When Givorak woke, he took the bright stunning light, lack of noise, and rows of silhouetted figures about him as either the manifestation of a new nightmare or evidence that he was no longer in his own bed. The general test - pinching oneself, wouldn't work. He found he couldn't move his arms. Not that immobility proved anything. One can dream that too. Givorak wasn't really his name anyway. That is to say, his mother was in the process of providing him with a name but didn't really finish . She said, "Give..er..awwk!" and, in a violent and fatal seizure, was sent thrashing to the floor where her lungs and a spasmodic throat produced something like "eh..thi..k..issssss" which the registrar dutifully transcribed as Givorak Ithikus Jones. His middle name, Ithikus was kept secret following a stay at one orphanage where the other boys (you know how cruel young boys can be) called him "G.I. Joe" and would ask, while pummeling him, "Which country are you going to invade next?" (which is what the kids' history vids say G.I. Joe did). I'd love to tell you more about his youth, but after opening and closing his eyes several times and finally biting his lip (painfully so), Givorak has managed to convince himself that he is no longer in his bed.
"Where am I?! Who are you?!" he gasped at the silhouetted figures around him.
The figures did not appear to move, but an unemotional voice to his right responded, "We are They."
"What the fuck?!" he said, "Who are you?"
"They... T...H...E...Y... They," the voice responded, with a hint of exasperation.
"They? Who they?" said Givorak, now leaning back toward the still sleeping theory. "I must have fallen out of bed and bit my lip. I mean, who the fuck says, 'who they?'" Givorak thought.
"They, you know. They say that it's good for you. They put genetically modified corn in your food. They have black helicopters. They steal your newspaper, They send jobs overseas, They read your mind and They are always telling you what to do."
"Well, that's what they do.. what about you.. and what the fuck is going on?"
"No. We are They!" screamed the voice.
Givorak laid silent for some time, as if considering all of the evidence his mind had received since the day he was born. Finally, he swallowed, then asked, "They who?"
Depending upon whom you ask, They say that Givorak was never seen again, but They also say he was seen in a small town in eastern Montana bar-hopping on the arm of an ancient Elvis.
(c) 2006 Gary Hassler, all rights reserved.
When Givorak woke, he took the bright stunning light, lack of noise, and rows of silhouetted figures about him as either the manifestation of a new nightmare or evidence that he was no longer in his own bed. The general test - pinching oneself, wouldn't work. He found he couldn't move his arms. Not that immobility proved anything. One can dream that too. Givorak wasn't really his name anyway. That is to say, his mother was in the process of providing him with a name but didn't really finish . She said, "Give..er..awwk!" and, in a violent and fatal seizure, was sent thrashing to the floor where her lungs and a spasmodic throat produced something like "eh..thi..k..issssss" which the registrar dutifully transcribed as Givorak Ithikus Jones. His middle name, Ithikus was kept secret following a stay at one orphanage where the other boys (you know how cruel young boys can be) called him "G.I. Joe" and would ask, while pummeling him, "Which country are you going to invade next?" (which is what the kids' history vids say G.I. Joe did). I'd love to tell you more about his youth, but after opening and closing his eyes several times and finally biting his lip (painfully so), Givorak has managed to convince himself that he is no longer in his bed.
"Where am I?! Who are you?!" he gasped at the silhouetted figures around him.
The figures did not appear to move, but an unemotional voice to his right responded, "We are They."
"What the fuck?!" he said, "Who are you?"
"They... T...H...E...Y... They," the voice responded, with a hint of exasperation.
"They? Who they?" said Givorak, now leaning back toward the still sleeping theory. "I must have fallen out of bed and bit my lip. I mean, who the fuck says, 'who they?'" Givorak thought.
"They, you know. They say that it's good for you. They put genetically modified corn in your food. They have black helicopters. They steal your newspaper, They send jobs overseas, They read your mind and They are always telling you what to do."
"Well, that's what they do.. what about you.. and what the fuck is going on?"
"No. We are They!" screamed the voice.
Givorak laid silent for some time, as if considering all of the evidence his mind had received since the day he was born. Finally, he swallowed, then asked, "They who?"
Depending upon whom you ask, They say that Givorak was never seen again, but They also say he was seen in a small town in eastern Montana bar-hopping on the arm of an ancient Elvis.
(c) 2006 Gary Hassler, all rights reserved.
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