Simultaneous
Puscifer

So, the first time I saw him was at the annual city festival

at the end of the plaza on, uh, Punker Hill;

also known as the Island of Misfits.

Um, it's like a mound of black leather

and Army surplus jackets and boots,

and spiky egg-white hairdos and Mohawks,

and second-generation Exploited and Minor Threat and Sex Pistols patches and stuff.

Basically a haven for the misunderstood punk-y, rock-y,

goth-y, woe-is-me types.

And uh, and there he was, like, right in the middle of it all.

Um, oversize foam yellow cowboy hat, and pink plastic

Toys 'R Us pistols, and a holster.

Off-white dashiki, uh, shirt and tattered bell bottom jeans.

Leathered feet. Raleigh cigarette finger stains.

And he was an island within an island and I just

kind of had to know more.

So, I, uh, I sat with him for hours to try and get a bearing

on his beautiful insanity.

Every third inquiry was met with, you know,

an eloquent but unusual response, and, you know,

the subsequent exchange,

it kind of warranted continuing the conversation cause

he was, he was interesting.

Of course the other two-thirds of my efforts were

dismissed while he took in the constant flow of the festival

crowd all around us:

the raging river of multi-cultural music, art, food, families.

All of this with his Walkman at full volume. I think it was

Foreigner playing through the headphones.

And I asked Maybe, you know, maybe you can turn that

down so we can talk? and he replied,

Can you hear me? and I said Yes, and he said

Well, then it's fine.

He never really pretended-not once-to be able to organize

all this chaos that was going on around us. He just

unapologetically chose which pieces to focus on.

Well, you know, after a few hours we seemed to have kind

of found our stride, found our rhythm.

Kinda settled into it and we're having these intermittent

conversations, flipping back and forth between the chaos

and the focus.

And then just kinda out of nowhere, he seemed to become

a little unsettled and disturbed, and I asked him what was

wrong,

and he just blurted out Peanut, Paris and syrup and then

he looked at me like I would know what that means.

And then he said, you have any... do you have any

batteries? So basically his Walkman was running out of

power and he just needed batteries.

So before I could even turn and ask one of our fellow

punkers for some double-A's, he grabbed my face with

both hands, and then for the first time in the entire

conversation he gave me his complete focus and attention

-completely present-and calmly said,

We will never know world peace until three people can

simultaneously look each other straight in the eye.

Should the oceans rise

Should the sky come falling down

Should the islands tremble beneath us

See our better nature blossom

Should the sun rain fire

Should Hell on Earth freeze over

And our enemies wait hungry

See our better nature feed them

Should the sun rain fire

Should Hell on Earth freeze over

When our enemies wait hungry

See our better nature feed and clone them


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