"Pat Cadigan - The Final Remake Of Little Latin Larry" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cadigan Pat)

Pat Cadigan - The Final Remake Of Little Latin Larry

So! Fix yourself a smell and sit down!
There's a wet bar, too, if you go that way. You know, for years I told
myself I didn't, even though I always kept a full complement of cheers,
vines, and the hards and their pards. I'd say to myself, Oh, but of course
the hooch is strictly for hospitality and nothing else.
But now, I'm out about it and I really feel much more non-bad about it.
And wasn't it Elvis who said, "Drinkers, like the poor, we will always
have with us"?
Or was that Dylan? Might have been -- Dylan was the big expert on
drinkers, wasn't he, dying as he did face down in the gutter -- lucky
beast! -- not fifty paces from the Tired Horse Tavern where he came up
with his biggest and best -- "All the Tired Horses" (of course!),
"Knockin' on Fern Hill's Door," "The Hand That Signed a Paper Got to Serve
Somebody," and, my personal favorite, "Do Not Go Gentle Into Those
Subterranean Homesick Blues." "Rage, rage against the leaders, watch the
parking -- "
Sorry, sorry, sorry! I can barely hold still, this is such an exciting
time for me. I think my man Dylan put it best when he said, "I sang in my
chains: everybody must get stoned." One of his most evocative lines, at
least for me. Even now, long, long, long after I first read it, it still
stirs up for me the sensation of that state where you're practically
thrumming in excitement, and the only thing that keeps you from flying up
in the air and dragging the whole world after you like a cape tied around
your shoulders is the incontrovertible fact of your
just-that-much-too-heavy flesh --
Sorry again! The human condition tends to make me wax poetic. Rather, it
makes me want to wax poetic, except I can never think of the poetic
counterpart to words like "incontrovertible." Got a drink now? Good, good,
sit, sit. Did you smell anything you liked? No? Ah -- you must tell me the
truth here: did the aromabar intimidate you, or are you just not
olfactory? I vow that either way, I'm not insulted, truly I'm not. Not all
senses can be our senses, can they? And when you're retro besides -- well,
some people can get that so wrong.
Like the other day. Packed in my usual buzzbomb was a silly tag from one
of my sillier friends telling me that everyone was saying behind my back
that I was the most retro creature they'd ever heard of. I tagged back to
tell Old Sillyhead that not only were they saying it behind my back, but
also behind my front, too, and in front of my back and all that, and so
what.
Anyway, it's not like I'm detoxing and then relapsing just for the wallop
that first sinful sip will give you. I know people who have gone through
three and four livers that way, even with top-of-the-line blood-doping.
But I don't consider them drinkers. And personally, I think TeflonTM on
the central nervous system is cheating.
And in spite of what you may have heard, the aromabar really is just for
amusement, I don't do aromatherapy of any kind. Of course, anyone who does
is welcome to mix themselves a bouquet with my essences and if they want
to claim it gives them some kind of therapeutic fizz, I'm not going to