Eye Luggage: i feel wobbly.
Laertus: me, too.
Dirg: the country just made a permanent move to an indecisive divisive future. mark my words, we will be forever divided forever, there's no going back, it's a Cold Civil War. and there's no global warming enough to melt THESE icecaps.
Laertus: yes. even i feel it and i wanted it. also, cos the sex was pretty good.
Eye Luggage: *batting her eyelashes mockingly at Laertus* YOU'RE the pretty one.
Laertus: i mean there was that feeling in there like, are we really gonna do this? take this step? we're crossing the Rubicon here...
Rubikon: don't step in my neighborhood, honky.
President Bump: look, my hands are up, i come in peace. i haven't cum in ages, it's gonna be violent when i finally do. look, homeboys, i want no trouble, dig? just give me back my bitch and we'll call it a square day. this is what you wanted, right, man? a permanent 50/50 world! i LOVE 50/50! you can leave her in chains if you want, back turned...
Rubikon: it's now a race to 51 instead of a race to a hunna cos of you.
Tulsi Gabbard emerges from the sunset, no worse for wear, and walks gingerly to the shiny hairpiece.
Bump: why aren't you rubbing your wrists? i always have to do that after an encounter. Tulsi, here you go, here's your present.
Tulsi: thank you, sir, but i don't do this for the Christmas gifts.
Bump: it's from LUSH. see?, i listen to women when the woman's worth it. Tulsi, let me axe you a question: why aren't you a Republican? join our tribe, we're the Jewish tribe!
Tulsi: i love wearing all-white pantsuits on stage. i couldn't get away with that at a Repub debate, you're only allowed to wear black.
in Seaside, The Line carrying a stuffed brown paper bag is frantically searching for his errant ward:
Salvadorans: whoa, whoa, hombre, you can't bring that in here! who knows what's inside!
The Line: bro, orale, have you seen my guy? i need to find my guy before it's too late!
the Salvadoran biker gang is...…...full of 7 friendly and jolly motorcyclists who are only too happy to help out a lost soul, they know the business, they know what it means to be downtrodden, discarded, the forgotten farmer, relegated to ranch-hand. they are loud and rowdy at their bar tabletopped with ranch sauce---which is not ranch dressing---and native Crying Tongue sauce---as is their right, it is Christmas after all, and it follows in line with their tradition of disfrutar
---and they helpfully and in clear concise English point out where they last saw him.
Salvadorans: past our Quantum Villa we saw him enter a strange complex. through the window.
The Line: yeah, that's his apartment, thanks. thank you. you know i wish my man had been Salvadoran, they have just the right balance of machismo and common sense. Rubi thinks he's hard but he also has many soft spots on his brain from all his stresses.
Eye gives Madame Pons a Christmas kiss without mistletoe, they haven't seen each other in a while, they have a student/sensei relationship they are keeping on the down-low:
Eye: cos we both have toes down there. how's the Treehouse?
Pons: i'm tending it for you guys. it's like Christmas vacation came early! it's nice and quiet over there, i can relax from all the holiday stress, i can hug the squirrels! i was bedridden for 3 days cos of holiday stress.
Dirg: 3 is a magic number for you witches.
Pons cries glitter tears.
Pons: don't worry, these are tears of joy. you know it just feels so good to be able to take the tub from work at LUSH over to my private bathroom at home-tree and live a day without having to pop two Vanquish an hour to get through it. my teeth were alternating in-pain and soothed. i thought i'd never know again what it's like to NOT have two white elongated pills in my mouth so much they looked like beaver teeth.
Dirg: but that tub is bolted on!
at the Dinosaur Bar-B-Cue, the biker gangs have migrated to Doryce's table, she just seems to attract trouble like flies to a flame:
Gladyce: more like flies to sticky sandpaper.
Doryce pounds her fist on the table tho she is playing solitaire with her playing-cards:
Doryce: i know how to deal with loud men! they won't disrupt our holiday together, dear! another round of hot custard for these fine gentlemen on this fine Christmas Day morning! i love that i can see all of your bulges. i mean your arm bulges. you each wear those cute one-size-too-small tiny little jean jackets with no shirt.
Gladyce: that jean jacket is a hero piece. a gay hero piece no less.
soon Doryce is on top of a mosh pit! the Salvadorans serenade her with a pre-dawn Salvadoran song not found in any church hymnal, found only on the waves of the road wind.
they cajole each other, hitting each others' muscles and knees, joking with each other telling inside jokes in Spanish loudly.
Gladyce: do you know what they're saying?
Gladyce: they love you, they treat you as one of them, or they wouldn't be carrying on like this like they normally do. they see something in you. they like your outside-the-box spirit.
Doryce: well my vagina is known as the ghost box.
Doryce: thanks, boys, thank you, fellas. i'd fuck each one of yous but i'm here with my bitch you understand. it's our special time. Feliz Navidad and arrivederci, amigos! bye-bye! in newspeak.
Doryce makes the Baby Shark but it's upright so it just looks like waving goodbye.
at the next table Rubikon is enjoying his meat pile so much his fingers and tongue are all greasy with ginger grease and wet and saliva-y.
Rubikon: eat up, son.
Jaden: i don't know, sir. are you sure this meat is safe? that girl had a hard time lugging these large ribs to our table.
Rubikon: if you don't eat it, it will eat you. and humanity will go extinct.
Jaden: might not be so bad. okay, here goes, chomp one!
Jada comes storming in like this were a biker bar, a saloon...which it kinda is, granted one that looks like a corner 7-Eleven.
Jada: *pointing at Jaden*: YOU ATE DINO FROM THE FLINTSTONES
Doryce: now, where were we?
Gladyce: you were kissing me with your sweetback.
Doryce: ah yes, my tongue.
they tongue-fuck out in the open at the restaurant.
the cute guapita Tijuana waitress girl with the gold hoop earrings so big her small frame could jump through them motions for Gladyce to come to the back of the kitchen with her.
waitress: andale, vieja.
Doryce: oh this is fun! i'll be the interpreter. she wants you to pick out your favorite spoon.
Gladyce slips a spoon out of her vagina ready on hand on call.
Doryce: oh that's right, that's your sweetback spoon, aye?
Gladyce: right. look at the craftsmanship on this all-black stirring spoon, i love it! it has such heft, it's so heavy to hold, it must be ten pounds, my frail fingers are struggling under the weight. but i hold it proudly and grandly, there's so much gravitas to this spoon! it can smooth out the roughest of edges.
waitress: stir this large vat of hot custard with your spoon before it gets clumpy.
Gladyce: *stirring and whistling* you know, dear, i love what they're doing with the mail these days. all the mail is delivered now with a rubber band around it. to keep it from spilling out into the snow. i love neat and tidy. you know the ribs they serve here? tied with a rubber band, that's how you know it's authentic. the ribs won't fall off until they're in your mouth. here.
Doryce: what do you want me to do with all these rubber bands?
Gladyce: don't give them to Pete Davidson...
Colin Jost: so you're indirectly saying you're going to rehab again?
Pete Davidson: yep. here, take my shoelaces. you can use them with Scarlett, in your bondage play. you've had a session, right? you have been up to her Sex Dungeon, right?
Colin: it's up, not down? um, yes, of course, sure, i have. look, it doesn't matter, missionary or goofy sex, it's still the same amount of cum. look, i can help you, my friend, you don't need expensive 100,000-dollar roommates. it's simple: you GOT to stop comparing yourself to me! you do well for yourself!
Pete: sure. i'm not built for this acting thing. this fame thing actually, i'm too slight to take the blows. i want to retire to the country as a young person, retire into the woods to pursue my real dream of being a forest ranger. as long as i'm putting out others' fires i'm okay and can manage. there is hope for me as long as it's someone else.
Tori Hanson, the Wind Ranger, stands atop the mountain putting her thumb in the wind, it's hard cos that thumb is gloved. but then Tori begins blowing her pipe:
Tori: it's hard for people this time of year. folk are struggling. the holidays are hell. and so for these two weeks instead of being the Blue Wind Ranger i'm gonna be the Beyond Blue Ranger. please, no more damn presents, just give to this charity.
Dirg: it's not fair, i mean how do we judge a man in full? or we only gonna remember him for his bad stuff? his faults, his foibles, his worst moment in life. a person is a balance of good side and bad side that is always imbalanced, always in flux for aeons. besides, it's just so sad, he could have waited this out. the next celebrity scandal would have hit and knocked him out of the spotlight. it's not 4 years, my brother, it's for life.
Teuila Blakely: Christmas is the worst! the worst one! Christmas Day is the worst day! why do we have Christmas Day!!? suicide must be talked about in polite society the way sex is. for the two weeks i will be setting up a domestic-abuse-and-violence shelter, just on the outskirts of Los Angeles, all are free to enter...
Demi Lovato is being walked across the street by a nice young man named Austin Wilson. her new boyfriend. he wears an Enfants Riches Deprimes shirt with the Menendez-brothers Meme on it.
Demi: *old lady voice* oh sonny! oh goody! i love this arrangement! usually it's the young one taking advantage of my old money! now it's the other way around! this proves i really love you! it's not just about that all old ladies turn into teenage girls...
Eye: what were we talking about again?
Dirg: hey, does this podcast studio have storm windows? just checking. impact windows as it were?
Laertus: so how are we all on this fine Christmas Day? we have to work on Christmas? is it a Blue Green White or Gray Christmas for you so far?
Dirg: Blue Christmas, raining. is it good luck or bad luck for it to rain on Christmas?
Pete: depends if you're a forest ranger.
Dirg: Grey Christmas is overcast, no rain. Green Christmas is a cop-out, just means nothing.
Bump: KFC is open on Christmas…...jus' sayin'...
Eye: oh! well! we have TWO guests at the podcast today! charmed, gentlemen. i'm sure. honor. honors class. Terry Gilliam is sitting next to Bill Cosby right now.
Dirg shakes Cosby's hand.
Dirg: i don't wanna know where that's been, i don't want to know what you had to drink to escape, i just want your sweater, sir, your sweater is my Christmas sweater.
Terry: Black Panther
Cosby: right? what are they feeding these young kids, poundcake? btw, poundcake means something completely different in the slammer. and cuffing season is not the cuffing season i used to enjoy with the ladies.
Terry: THIS is how you want to fight whitey?
Laertus: sir, may i offer a humble criticism? i am but a lowly Laertus. your genius is unassailable, but maybe you had one too many mescalines?
Terry: tru. i want the good stuff, the black stuff, got any cocaine, Bill?
Cosby: i did Coke ads...…...once, a LONG time ago...
Eye: you don't want any of Cosby's drugs. why are you doing this, Bill?
Bill: i'm here, aren't i? i needed something to land me out of prison. gang warfare inside prison is stupid and useless, my enemy needed to be on the outside. when the prison riot hit, i had an excuse to leave, they all saw how tough i was and that i'd hold my own in a fight with Eddie Murphy. the prison guards wanted my autograph. ironically, i found that rude obscene comic at a plantation.
Laertus: that's Eddie Murphy's estate. you were in his tomato fields, he makes wine.
Prince: *blue, not purple* Eddie, don't become a Hollywood slave, it's not all it's cracked up to be!
Bill: right? you tell 'em, cracker.
Tyzik: oh just how...my turn?...just how the Crusades and everything. i mean what a tragedy! that was the start of this whole divisiveness mess we're in now! why couldn't we all get along like they did back then? back then the Jews, Muslims, and Christians all came together---pun intended---to create art and music and culture and children so powerful because they had never been seen before! it was a hydra-headed heat, hedonism, and honor! that was art charged with the energy of THREE religions, man! more powerful than god! it was called The Ornament of the World. so apt for this time of year...
Eye: cheers. i'm not drinking, Christmas cheer. Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song
Alex Trebek: a Final Jeopardy should be to spell the word badass
of this film title correctly...
Laertus: that's Melvin Van Peebles and his son Mario. not Pebbles from that Flintstone
Dark Ages world, that world with the purple dinosaur. a video-game character in a world of white...
Dirg: child porn? sorry, but i wasn't sold on this one, you're gonna have to convince me that this is all that.
Laertus: sure, exactly what i want to be doing on Christmas Day! convincing YOU. well, what do you need convincing on?
Dirg: i mean i realize this is the first blaxploitation film, it's historic in that sense, but as an actual film it's just not that good. the story is lacking, the film techniques are downright weird, the pacing is deliberately wacky, the music is shrill and earbud-piercing, and the message is muddled.
Laertus: how so?
Dirg: it's not strictly blaxploitation since he doesn't get shot and killed by the white racist cops in the end. hey, Ebert said this, not me.
Eye: oh yeah, the ending, that reminds me, as always, let's not discuss those poor dogs. just....no, moving on, talk about anything else but that.
Laertus: those poor dogs weren't racist, they didn't deserve that. they were trained to hate. sorry. well, let's start at the beginning...
Eye: let's. okay, each of you, when you first heard the term sweetback
, what were you thinking?
Dirg: the penis is so girthy and large it goes to the very back of the woman's throat.
Laertus: it's a penis so big it's meant for a sweet back, a.k.a. a nice big butt, an ample ass, the tushiest of tush.
Eye: and kush. for me, the dick is so long it's a third leg, it straightens out his back, makes it stronger to stand on, it's a cock that tastes sweet in the mouth. that's how i pictured it. no need for pineapple or condoms, it's a tasty tangy large lolliop pure popsicle as is.
Dirg: i guess the folk in the '70s were REALLY cool to allow THAT!
Laertus: it's a tale of woe in the beginning, one of tragedy, one of having to survive young. the scars put on him at such a young age make him the anguishing lad of a man---tryna not be a mad man---he grows up to be. his childhood becomes as cold as the world, that's how he survives. and yet, these Los Angeles whores are his mothers, they take care of him, feed him. the brothel is his shelter.
Eye: gotta love the '40s. i was born in the wrong era.
Laertus: but you gotta love how this film was directing addressing The Man. imagine how a young black especially boy looks at this film, as empowerment, for the first time seeing a black man doing a black film addressing black concerns in the realest way possible, nothing whitewashed, wholly independent, telling it like it is. it gives the kid who thinks he is forever abandoned cos of his skin a reason to continue and fight and bask in that sunshiny day one day. overcome. Sweetback is his Superman, and Sweetback's powers only grow as his confidence grows, his prowess is but his first power.
Dirg: his legendary fucking ability with that thing has caught the townsfolk and is the stump on which all his powers stem.
Eye: and later, that woman from the whorehouse becomes a strange ally to him as an adult.
Dirg: beggars can't be choosers. it's mean on those streets, your friend is the one next to you. what's with Sweetback's look throughout the film? it's like he's shellshocked. tho i love that porn stache.
Laertus: it's symbolic of being colonialized. he's in the bottom rung of society trying to claw his way up, he has nothing to say, he has blank eyes, cos he's regarded as nothing with nothing of value to say, he's trying to become somebody. somebody strong and powerful.
Laertus: that's one way to have cuffing season and get back at the man! actually turn around the cuffs on you and make them into weapons you can use on them! brass-knuckle cuffs!
Eye: okay that one scene where the white captain is addressing the squad and uses the n-word in front of the two black officers. i was holding my finger up during that scene, i was gonna bring it up if that hadn't been addressed. but then the captain tries to apologize for using that word to them, he didn't mean it THAT way of course, just a way to pep-talk the troops to stay aggressive.
Laertus: the police becomes the police emphasis on pol
. that guy on the toilet, you knew he wasn't long for this world. i loved the priest at the drug rehab, he was very philosophical, very existential. he gives hope to the hopeless, that's his power, his prayer. he preaches that there's a better place that's not this foul Earth, an afterlife that all our black brothers and sisters can go to to be finally free, shed the steel shackles, and to reunite with all their families so wrongly despised by this life. the priest doesn't really believe in this heaven, but it's his job to make people feel good.
Eye: i like the general sentiment of if the system's rigged, why is it the black man still gets shafted, pun intended. he gets the dime to the white man's quarter of corruption.
Eye: okay my favorite part is the Orange Julius.
Laertus; right? yep, nothing beats '70s Orange Julius! that's as funky a frothy drink as there ever was!
Eye: turns out the '70s Orange Julius logo is a devil! that was definitely scrubbed and cleaned up for the child-friendly '80s, i never noticed that devil in any mall my mom went to with Polaroids.
Laertus: and think about Earth Wind & Fire, they were an unknown band living on a ratty couch downtown in an apartment, this film was their first break. now THAT's a find! imagine having the Black Beatles living in your garage and nobody knows who they were.
Bill Cosby: without me this film wouldn't have been made. that band are STILL due that money!
Laertus: in this world, sex is currency. you don't need money in your pocket, just a penis in your pocket. i mean the leader of the Hells Angels biker gang---good for her for being a woman---basically forgives all and lets him in the gang in exchange for fucking her.
Dirg: yes, but why does the fucking have to be public? it's almost like if you don't have sex in front of the group, it doesn't count.
Eye: proof. plus some people just like to watch, getting your money's worth.
Dirg: John Amos always saves the day, always do it for the children. i don't want to make a big deal out of this, but that motorcycle helmet was a half of a watermelon husk...
Dirg: so the filmcraft itself, let's discuss. i was sick of that song by the time the film was over. over and over and over, it was so cacophonous. what was with all the strange tape loops and step-printing and rackfocus and sudden FF/Rewind tapemasking and dubbing and jump cuts and extreme editing? and that chorus ringing in my ear, i heard voices in my head, not my usual schizo ones.
Laertus: it represents this man's struggle, the craziness of his world, the insanity of being hated for being born a certain way. the n nightmare as it were. that refrain stuck in my head...and stayed there implanted. and the music was strangely soothing, had a good funked-out jazzy running beat, very '70s Sesame Street
. you almost expected Gordon Robinson to come out and teach us the ABCs of urban life.
Cosby: that Mr. Robinson from the Neighborhood is dead. they either dead or in jail, gone the way of Mr. Hooper.
Laertus: his shouting to himself was his inner monologue shouting back, motivating him to escape. those city voices singing from the bottom well to the top roots were a Greek Chorus! urging him on! leading us out of the darkness past the railroad tracks. you gotta admit it was smart of him to pee on his chest wound to disinfect it, boxers, take note. you appreciate this film now?
Dirg: sure. it's like if Black Panther
Laertus: that's why this was a recruiting tool for the real Black Panthers, they saw the power in this. white America was terrified of "militant" blacks who would one day reclaim their self-identity. you can only beat a man so much till he turns his head, tired of being down.
Eye gets ready to leave and puts on a whole seal on her shoulder. the seal gives her a wet whiskered kiss on the nose.
Eye: this film inspired me. you know, if you're in a rut, try something different. think differently about things. 2020 is the perfect time as the new decade dawns to see things clearly: i'm thinking shed all your friends in the last 10 years and start over with a brand new batch of friends!
Dirg: what about us? why aren't we spending Christmas with our families?
Eye: WE are our family. for worse or worse. we're all we got day in and day out. don't expect me to have a group hug here.
Dirg: perish. the thought. but you two hug in the soundproof booth......there, that's it! that's really driving up the ratings on our little podcast let me tell ya. the people are curious! well, g'night and Merry Christmas, folks, yeah i said it.
The Line: *banging the door* you there, blood?
Rubikon is on the phone pointing his long finger up:
Rubikon: yeah that's right, i ain't scared, you can print me on that! it's common sense, Pelosi should withhold the Articles of Impeachment FOREVER! therefore he's always known as an impeached president, he'll never get that exoneration of a rammed acquittal he so covets on the stump.
Rubikon: whatchu want.
The Line: welfare check.
Rubikon: that better be an actual paper welfare check i can cash!
The Line: i got your Christmas present!
The Line takes out the goods from his big brown paper bag.
Rubikon: come in through the slot......wow! this is...?
The Line: i see your present face. these are the black hoodies you always wanted! you've been clamoring for them ever since you took your first walking steps at the YMCA shelter where i fed you Saturday breakfast cereal. what's the matter, tough guy, scared of wearing this hoodie at night with your favorite, Obama? Obama's face on the front and big white letters spelling out OBAMA on the back...
Rubikon: no, it's just......it says on the label tag, these hoodies are for women-only!...