'The Unanswered Dreams of a Dead Man' vs. Jack Kerouac & Allen Ginsberg.
TC raises his arms in the air: the people gathered hinge on his words as if he was a messiah.
"Alright people! Pineapple upstairs and then wrestling in the backyard. Let's go."
And with a unanimous Viking yell, the circle unravels to the stairs and up.
"Your house? Everything in this house is destroyed you know?"
"Material things, it doesn't matter."
The bear [of a man] raises a box to TC.
"Go over to that stereo, read this with only candlelight. A bottle of wine is uncorked."
I am compelled by TC's aura: I blink, I breathe, I comply.
"I left my job and place for this?"
No answer; he's already upstairs. It's just me, this metal box, a bottle of wine, and a stereo with 'Ode to Joy', Beethoven's 9th Symphony. I do as told: I open the box and read-- The Fraternity of Mankind.
I sit paralyzed in the candlelight from emotions which cannot be broken down into smaller parts. The seedlings of reason into the sight of the future are sown. Suddenly, TC runs down.
"Get your shit; these people have taken this party to another level."
I don't hesitate. A houseful of people on LSD: what could they be doing?
I see what he means. 'Killing in the Name of' has infiltrated the entire environment...