Albert listened in silence.
Mrs. O’Connell’s eyes were big and black and glowed with energy. Their luster radiated a powerful sexual magnetism. Her mouth was sensual, round and prominent, with beautiful lips. Not for the first time, Albert sensed the erotic power of this woman. “There is a lot of sex in that face,” he thought. And in turn, she could sense his interest. Later that afternoon, she first uncrossed her ankles and then very, very slowly moved her shoes apart. The effects of the Spanish Rosé wine was working its effect on both of them, and just as slowly, Albert realized her broad hips and frumpy clothes mattered less and less. She was in heat, as was always the case when she spoke to intelligent men. Albert knew that Mr. O’Connell, in spite of his movie star looks, drooped in this area and she was always looking to be satisfied from other men; she stalked men she deemed worthy of being worshipped. Of course, it would all end in tears for her, as she took no exercise (apart from that taken lying on her back); all too soon she would become a short, stout, and very roly-poly elderly Russian woman. But that was in the future, and for now she was a conquest Albert wanted very much.
Like a runaway train, she raced on,
“Albert, it is glorious to see your country has grasped the nettle and is purging the world of the pus that is Russia. It’s a graveyard there and the sooner you cauterize it the better. And the collective drivel of Versailles, with its bizarre premises, can finally be ended. You see Albert, people generally look through the wrong end of the telescope—their basic premises are wrong and so all that follows is equally false. The theory of knowledge is based on language. This is what people never seem to understand. The language defines how people think—the Germans and Japanese think clearly because their language is clear and unambiguous; the Spanish on the other hand never stop talking as Romance languages are all cluttered with flowery nonsense. The extreme case is the Australian aboriginal language, where counting is limited to three words: ‘One,’ ‘Two,’ or ‘Many’—not much chance of Leibnitz’s calculus being invented by these Stone Age primitives, is there? Here’s another example: the worthies at Versailles mandated the creation of what they laughingly call ‘countries.’ Now what is a country? Well, a school boy would say it is a geographic area, such as the island of Ireland. But, as Ireland proves, this is a false premise. A country is really a group of likeminded people who share a common language and a common belief structure. So, to say there is a country called Germany is really a false premise. What there actually is what I will call a supra-country—you can call it the Grosse Reich—that consists of all German-speaking people in central Europe. Now that is a logical premise—not lines on a map, and certainly not these bizarre monstrosities created in 1919. The single most important component of a nation is its common language, without a single shared language, the so-called country will sooner or later collapse. This is what makes America strong, and what makes both Greater Germany, and Japan so strong. This is why the Soviet Union would have collapsed even without your act of preemptive self-defense. A nation needs a common language, the Soviet Union is really just a renamed Czarist Russia dominating its distant serfdoms by brutality—there is no common language and no common beliefs in the Soviet Union. For example, the people of the Ukraine are Orthodox Christian. Therefore, the Soviet Union is a false premise and as such will collapse, sooner or later. Compare that graveyard in the East to the British Empire, where the English language is the glue that holds the whole thing together; this is how they are able to control India—before the British, India was riven with hundreds of languages, now it is part of the greatest empire since Rome. But, back to Ireland. The second requirement is common beliefs. The North with its Protestants imported from Scotland sees itself as British, while the Catholic South sees itself as Irish. There will never be peace until this is resolved, probably by force. By examining our basic premises, we can see what the yellow press call ‘countries,’ such as Czecho-Slovakia, are not really countries at all—these are just artificial play-words.
“Regarding the book, it is moving forward, and your tank chocolate will help a lot. My husband occasionally helps me with a little of the dialogue, but it is all my work. The basic premise of the book is to take Nietzsche’s idea of the lone creative Superman and write it in such a way that when all the little people read my book they will each quickly and easily identify with the hero. They will see their own weaknesses and failures as proof of their greatness and to reverse these weaknesses to prove their hidden creative talents. So, all these sheep say ‘yes, yes, yes—that is me.’ It’s as if they were back in kindergarten and they all got gold stars on their work every day, and every day the lady teachers told each and every one of them they were extra-ordinarily talented and creative. Think of my new book as a sort of bible for the mediocre, as a phantasy where the reader is a gallant and brave knight from the tales of Ivanhoe, whereas the reality is my readers are all a bunch of lazy, fat, and farting moochers who pine over their lost ‘greatness’ as they identify with the book’s heroes. As you can see Albert, the sheep will love their portrayals as Olympian heroes. Philosophical novels are where the money is, Albert. The secret of my book is to create a duality of us versus them, of the noble outsider versus the insiders, of the blessed versus the damned.”
She paused, concerned she had given a little too much away, so she changed tack,
“The mob never created anything—the light bulb was invented by one man, not a government department; the telephone was invented by one man, not a government department; the flying machine was invented by two men, not a government department. Are my premises sound? Yes, they are. As a fellow artist, you know this Albert. And you know the Muses only appear when you are alone. All artists need quietude and being alone. ‘Being alone with your thoughts’ is the goal of all artists. For most artists the results are disappointing. But ideas alone survive, and we artists are simply the conduits and the channels of ideas. There are three traits of the real and true artist: Aloneness—the artist prefers solitude, and prefers to be alone; Focus—the artist is rude when told of his social obligations, ‘you need visit aunt Mary in the hospital, she is very sick,’ the artist’s polite reply is ‘I am sorry, I am working that day,’ the less polite reply is ‘let her die, she is a nobody;’ and Unstoppable—the artist’s work is truly his life, for most people, for most slugs, work is odious, it’s the old saying about Italians and Germans, the former work to live, while the latter live to work. A person’s creativity can instantly be judged by how much they like to be alone. The true artist works alone, and loves being alone, otherwise the crass looters frighten off the timid Muses. And God knows, the Muses can be timid bitches at times. No one said genius was ‘run of the mill.’