by Paul Beatty
The drawers in room 12 are uncontested and his.
He can hear periodic laughter from one of the rooms down the row. Probably those journalists. They have their fun and he has his. For about an hour now he has been staring at the mothball. The small moon on the bedside table. From a few feet away it looks smooth but the more he looks at it the more the imperfections become apparent. His eyes dip between granules and go as far into the thing as they can, then clamber on to the next ridge. He has decided to make the thing into his lucky charm. Certainly there is a reason he chose that suit as his last suit, and a reason the mothball decided to come along.
This night he saved a man's life. He was the first to recognize the symptoms of choking, drilled into him by years of staring at the walls of restaurants as he ate by himself, with his paper already read and still half a plate of his greasy meal left on the plate. At such moments there is little to read except choking prevention signs and the wretched faces of his fellow diners. Alphonse was the first to notice that the black man was choking. Two years earlier he saved the life of a woman at The Chew Shack when she indulged too enthusiastically in a plate of all-you-can-eat shrimp. He knew what to do. But he found himself staring at the black man. It seemed as if every feature of the man's face, as it was manipulated and contorted by suffocation, became discrete and separate from the rest. His bowed left eyebrow one object, his twitching right nostril part of something else. Each of these things could be collected and put in a separate mount on its own page in one of his stamp volumes. A special edition series. In its special place on a basement shelf. It was only when he realized his indifference to whether the man lived or died that Alphonse jumped up to help. The man didn't say thanks, but given the excitement, Alphonse didn't blame him.
He props himself on his elbows, peering down the soft, foreign slope of his body, fixating on his knees and the slack skin congealed into those ugly lumps. Then he finally removes his shoes. The heels of his blue-toed socks are stiff with blood. He bought new shoes for the occasion and they break him in as much as he breaks them in. His heels are raw and torn and tarred with dried blood. He hasn't felt the pain because all he's felt since he arrived in Talcott is this feeling of inevitability.
WILLIE PERDOMO
should old shit be forgot
2003
Papo the Poet started kicking a
Poem while Dick Clark put the
City on the count
Once again we pledge down for
Whatever until the day we die
Love forever in one minute it takes
Sixty seconds to forget the one who
Left you waiting at the bus stop
And I was like:
All that shit you sayin'
Sounds good but let's
Talk about the thirty
Dollars you owe me
I hear you I hear you I hear
What you sayin'
We boys and we should
Be happy when big ass
Disco balls drop on
151 proof resolutions
Father Time says
He's only gonna smoke
On the weekends
New Year cornets
Are swept off the street
Like old friends
Champagne corks ricochet
Off ballroom walls
Roast pork burns while we
Puff and pass in project halls
Bullets kill El Barrio sky to
Celebrate holding it down
The same ole same ole shit we
Say every year
Fuck it
Pass that rum
It's cold out here
Who wants some?
You could say pleeze
You could freeze
Whatever
Happy New Years
Feliz Ano Nuevo
I'm out here for a reason
Not the season
Should old shit be forgot
And all that good stuff
But I want my money
Before next year
black absurdity
The funniest, and oftentimes the saddest, folks realize that if it weren't for absurdity, life wouldn't make any sense. Chester Himes was a man whose life was so full of rejection and sundry inexplicables that it took two four-hundred-page autobiographies to sort it all out. The first volume is called The Quality of Hurt, the second My Life of Absurdity, which begins: "Albert Camus once said that racism is absurd. Racism introduces absurdity into the human condition. Not only does racism express the absurdity of the racists, but it generates absurdity in the victims. And the absurdity of the victims intensifies the absurdity of the racists, ad infinitum. If one lives in a country where racism is held valid and practiced in all ways of life, eventually, no matter whether one is a racist or a victim, one comes to feel the absurdity of life."
If, like Himes, an American does come to feel the absurdity of life, it's a subject we dare not address. There are no statutes. No government proclamations have been issued demanding our silence. None need be when we censor ourselves. To identify anything in this country as absurd is to stand up at the wedding ceremony when the official asks for dissenters to speak now or forever hold their peace and say, "Yeah, I have some reasons. First off, the bride is still sleeping with her brother. Second off, the groom and his grandmother are secretly videotaping their trysts and selling them on the Internet at IncestIsBest.com. And last off, the institution of marriage is indentured servitude to the patriarchal heterosexist power structure."
"Yes, but is that any reason why this couple shouldn't be united in holy matrimony?"
"No, on second thought, I guess it isn't. Sorry for the interruption. Proceed."
"What was the name of that Web site?"
"IncestIsBest.com."
Maybe the reason so few people are funny these days is that nothing is identified as being absurd anymore. The only folks who use the word are elected officials who bandy it about during congressional hearings. Steroids in baseball? Absurd! The Bush administration used September 11th as pretext for invading Iraq? Absurd! Excuse me, Senator, what's absurd, that 9/11 was a pretext for the invasion or that it wasn't? Absurd! High-strung and invariably monocled bank managers who are being tormented on afternoon television by the Marx Brothers or the Three Stooges like to point their fat fingers at the ceiling and shout, "Why, that's absurd!" Other than that, the word is rarely even used, because for the dutiful American to acknowledge the absurdity of life implies responsibility. We don't stand for inequity and incongruence. All contradictions must be rectified. All wrongs must be righted. The problem with making things rational is that it's a lot of work. It's much easier to ignore absurdity than to deal with it. So when someone is confronted with irrationality, they'll say, "Wow, man, that's so surreal." If some happening is surreal, you're absolved. Can't make the surreal real, dude. Can't do anything about it except hang it on the wall of a modern art museum.
There's a wonderful Dave Chappelle bit about being in the back of a limousine driving through the 'hood at three o'clock in the morning. The car stops, Chappelle rolls down the window and sees a baby standing nonchalantly on the street corner. Saddened at the sight of a lone baby on a dimly lit ghetto corner, he wants to help, but he doesn't trust the baby.
He's not frightened for the baby; he's frightened of the baby. "The old 'baby on the corner' trick, eh? Not going to fall for that shit." Turns out the baby's selling weed. Chappelle knows this is absurd, but he doesn't try to locate the baby's parents or alert the authorities. Instead he buys a dime bag.
It takes a bold person to buy a dime bag of absurdity. The speakers and writers in this section may not be smokers, but they're brave souls indeed, unafraid to confront life's black imponderables. This is black humor, and I don't mean African-American black.
ZORA NEALE HURSTON
book of harlem
c. 1921
1. A pestilence visiteth the land of Hokum, and the people
cry out. 4. Toothsome, a son of Georgia returns from Babylon, and stirreth up the Hamites. 10. Mandolin heareth him and resolveth to see Babylon. 11. He convinceth his father and departs for Babylon. 21. A red-cap toteth his bag, and uttereth blasphemy against Mandolin. 26. He lodgeth with Toothsome, and trieth to make the females of Harlem, but is scorned by them. 28. One frail biddeth him sit upon a tack. 29. He taketh council with Toothsome and is comforted. 33. He goeth to an hall of dancing, and meeting a damsel there, shaketh vehemently with her. 42. He discloseth himself to her and she telleth him what to read. 49. He becometh Panic. 50. The Book of Harlem.
1. And in those days when King Volstead sat upon the throne in Hokum, then came a mighty drought upon the land, many cried out in agony thereof.
2. Then did the throat parch and the tongue was thrust into the cheek of many voters.
3. And men grew restless and went up and down in the land saying, "We are verily the dry-bones of which the prophet Ezekiel prophesied."
4. Then returned one called Toothsome unto his town of Standard Bottom, which is in the province of Georgia. And he was of the tribe of Ham.
5. And his raiment was very glad, for he had sojourned in the city of Babylon, which is ruled by the tribe of Tammany. And his garments putteth out the street lamps, and the vaseline upon his head, yea verily the slickness thereof did outshine the sun at noonday.
6. And the maidens looked upon him and were glad, but the men gnasheth together their bridgework at sight of him. But they drew near unto him and listened to his accounts of the doings of Babylon, for they all yearned unto that city.
7. And the mouth of Toothsome flapped loudly and fluently in the marketplace, and the envy of his hearers increased an hundredfold.
8. Then stood one youth before him, and his name was called Mandolin. And he questioned Toothsome eagerly, asking "how come" and "wherefore" many times.
9. And Toothsome answered him according to his wit. Moreover he said unto the youth, "Come thou also to the city as unto the ant, and consider her ways and be wise."
10. And the heart of Mandolin was inflamed, and he stood before his father and said, "I beseech thee now, papa, to give unto me now my portion that I may go hence to great Babylon and see life."
11. But his father's heart yearned towards him, and he said, "Nay, my son, for Babylon is full of wickedness, and thou art but a youth."
12. But Mandolin answered him saying, "I crave to gaze upon its sins.
What do you think I go to see, a prayer-meeting?"
13. But his father strove with him and said, "Why dost thou crave Babylon when Gussie Smith, the daughter of our neighbor, will make thee a good wife? Tarry now and take her to wife, for verily she is a mighty biscuit cooker before the Lord."
14. Then snorted Mandolin with scorn and he said, "What care I for biscuit-cookers when there be Shebas of high voltage on every street in Harlem? For verily man liveth not by bread alone, but by every drop of banana oil that drippeth from the tongue of the lovely."
15. Then strove they together all night. But at daybreak did Mandolin touch the old man upon the hip, yea verily upon the pocket-bearing joint, and triumphed.
16. So the father gave him his blessing, and he departed out of Standard Bottom on his journey to Babylon.
17. And he carried with him of dreams forty-and-four thousands, and of wishes ten thousands, and of hopes ten thousands.
18. But of tears or sorrows carried he none out of all that land. Neither bore he any fears away with him.
19. And journeyed he many days upon the caravan of steel, and came at last unto the city of Babylon, and got him down within the place.
20. Then rushed there many upon him who wore scarlet caps upon the head, saying "Porter? Shall I tote thy bags for thee?"
21. And he marvelled greatly within himself, saying, "How charitable are the Babylons, seeing they permit no stranger to tote his own bag! With what great kindness am I met!"
22. And he suffered one to prevail and tote his bag for him. Moreover he questioned him concerning the way to Harlem which is a city of Ham in Babylonia.
23. And when he of the scarlet cap had conducted Mandolin unto a bus, then did Mandolin shake hands with him and thank him greatly for his kindness, and stepped upon the chariot as it rolled away, and took his way unto Harlem.
24. Then did the bag-toter blaspheme greatly, saying, "Oh, the cockeyed son of a wood louse! Oh, the hawg! Oh, the sea-buzzard! Oh, the splay-footed son of a doodle bug and cockroach! What does he take me for? The mule's daddy! The clod-hopper! If only I might lay my hands upon him, verily would I smite him. yea, until he smelt like onions!"
25. But Mandolin journeyed on to Harlem, knowing none of these things.
26. And when he had come unto the place, he lodged himself with Toothsome, and was glad.
27. And each evening stood he before the Lafayette theatre and a-hemmed at the knees that passed, but none took notice of him.
28. Moreover one frail of exceeding sassiness bade him go to and cook a radish, and seat himself upon a tack, which being interpreted is slander.
29. Then went he unto his roommate and saith, "How now doth the damsel think me? Have I not a smiling countenance, and coin in my jeans? My heart is heavy for I have sojourned in Harlem for many weeks, but as yet I have spoken to no female."
30. Then spoke Toothsome, and answered him saying, "Seek not swell Shebas in mail-order britches. Go thou into the marketplace and get thee Oxford bags and jacket thyself likewise. Procure thee shoes and socks. Yea, anoint thy head with oil until it runneth over so that thou dare not hurl thyself into bed unless thou wear weed chains upon the head, lest thou skid out again."
31. "Moreover lubricate thy tongue with banana oil, for from the oily lips proceedeth the breath of love."
32. And Mandolin hastened to do all that his counsellor bade him.
33. Then hied him to the hall of dancing where many leaped with the cymbal, and shook with the drums.
34. And his belly was moved, for he saw young men seize upon damsels and they stood upon the floor and "messed around" meanly. Moreover many "bumped" them vehemently. Yea, there were those among them who shook with many shakings.
35. And when he saw all these things, Mandolin yearned within his heart to do likewise, but as yet he had spoken to no maiden.
36. But one damsel of scarlet lips smiled broadly upon him, and encouraged him with her eyes, and the water of his knees turned to bone, and he drew nigh unto her.
37. And his mouth flew open and he said, "See now how the others do dance with the cymbal and harp, yea, even the saxophone? Come thou and let us do likewise."
38. And he drew her and they stood upon the floor. Now this maiden was a mighty dancer before the Lord; yea, of the mightiest of all the tribe of Ham. And the shakings of the others were as one stricken with paralysis beside a bowl of gelatine. And the heart of the youth leaped for joy.
39. And he was emboldened, and his mouth flew open and the banana oil did drip from his lips, yea even down to the floor, and the maiden was moved.
40. And he said, "Thou sure art propaganda! Yea, verily thou shakest a wicked ankle."
41. And she being pleased, answered him, "Thou art some sheik thyself. I do shoot a little pizen to de ankle if I do say so myself. Where has thou been all my life that I have not seen thee?"
42. Then did his mouth fly open, and he told her everything of Standard Bottom, Georgia, and of Babylon, and of all those things which touched him.
43. And her heart yearned towards him, and she resolved to take him unto herself and to make him wise.
44. And she said unto him, "Go thou and buy the books and writings of certain scribes and Pharisees which I shall name unto you, and thou shalt learn everything of good and of evil. Yea, thou shalt know as much as the Chief of the Niggerati, who is called Carl Van Vechten."
45. And Mandolin diligently sought all these books and writings that he was bidden, and read them.
46. Then was
he sought for all feasts, and stomps, and shakings, and none was complete without him. Both on 139th Street and on Lenox Avenue was he sought, and his fame was great.
47. And his name became Panic, for they asked one of the other, "Is he not a riot in all that he doeth?"
48. Then did he devise poetry, and played it upon the piano, saying:
Skirt by skirt on every flirt
Tliey're getting higher and higher
Day by day in every way
There's more to admire
Sock by sock and knee by knee
The more they show, the more we see
The skirts run up, the socks run down
Jingling bells run round and round
CHESTER HIMES
dirty deceivers
1948
All of his family were very fair. The most through examination of any sort could not have disclosed their Negro Blood. Yet in the small town in Tennessee where he was born his family were known as Negroes. This is not uncommon in the South. His family accepted their position as Negroes without obvious rancor and worked diligently to secure a comfortable living.
Following high school he attended Fisk University, and was graduated in 1931. He came to New York City seeking employment and worked for a year as a Red Cap. But he did not like the job; it was too demanding. The hours were long and the pay was short.
In the Spring of 1933 he was offered a job as deck hand on a freighter bound for Italy. He took it. When the freighter docked in Lisbon, Portugal, for supplies, he jumped ship. He avoided discovery by going inland immediately.
For the following seven years he lived in Portugal, engaging in a number of casual occupations. He assumed the name of Ferdinand Cortes, and in time learned the language quite proficiently. In 1940 he forged papers, proving himself a native of Portugal, and applied for a passport and U.S. visa. He returned to this country as a Portuguese and when war broke out he enlisted and was stationed in Lisbon as an interpreter, where he remained for the duration.
