Infinite Jest Part 2

'You're here to converse with me, Hal, yes. I'm almost going to have to implore you to have a lemon soda. Your mouth is making those dry sticky inadequate-saliva sounds.'

'Dr. Zegarelli says that's one reason for all the caries, is that I have low salivary output.'

'Those dry sticky salivaless sounds which can be death to a good conversation.'

'But I rode my bike all the way up here against the wind just to converse with you? Is the conversation supposed to start with me asking why?'

'I'll begin by asking if you know the meaning of implore, implore, Hal.' Hal.'

'Probably I'll go ahead and take a Seven-Up, then, if you're going to implore.'

'I'll ask you again whether you know implore, implore, young sir.' young sir.'

'Young sir?'

'You're wearing that bow tie, after all. Isn't that rather an invitation to a young sir? young sir?'

'Implore's a regular verb, transitive: to call upon, or for, in supplication; to pray to, or for, earnestly; to beseech; to entreat. Weak synonym: urge. Strong synonym: beg. Etymology unmixed: from Latin implorare, im implorare, immeaning in, plorare plorare meaning in this context to cry aloud. meaning in this context to cry aloud. O.E.D. O.E.D. Condensed Volume Six page 1387 column twelve and a little bit of thirteen.' Condensed Volume Six page 1387 column twelve and a little bit of thirteen.'

'Good lord she didn't exaggerate did she?'

'I tend to get beat up, sometimes, at the Academy, for stuff like that. Does this bear on why I'm here? That I'm a continentally ranked junior tennis player who can also recite great chunks of the dictionary, verbatim, at will, and tends to get beat up, and wears a bow tie? Are you like a specialist for gifted kids? Does this mean they think I'm gifted?'

SPFFFT. 'Here you are. Drink up.'

'Thanks. SHULGSHULGSPAHHH... Whew. Ah.'

'You were were thirsty.' thirsty.'

'So then if I sit down you'll fill me in?'

'... professional conversationalist knows his mucous membranes, after all.'

'I might have to burp a little bit in a second, from the soda. I'm alerting you ahead of time.'

'Hal, you are here because I am a professional conversationalist, and your father has made an appointment with me, for you, to converse.'

'MYURP. Excuse me.'

Tap tap tap tap.

'SHULGSPAHHH.'

Tap tap tap tap. tap tap tap.

'You're a professional conversationalist?'

'I am, yes, as I believe I just stated, a professional conversationalist.'

'Don't start looking at your watch, as if I'm taking up valuable time of yours. If Himself made the appointment and paid for it the time's supposed to be mine, right? Not yours. And then but what's that supposed to mean, "professional conversationalist"? A conversationalist is just one who converses much. You actually charge a fee to converse much?'

'A conversationalist is also one who, I'm sure you'll recall, "excels in conversation." '

'That's Webster's Seventh Webster's Seventh. That's not the O.E.D. O.E.D.'

Tap tap.

'I'm an O.E.D. O.E.D. man, Doctor. If that's what you are. Are you a doctor? Do you have a doctorate? Most people like to put their diplomas up, I notice, if they have credentials. And man, Doctor. If that's what you are. Are you a doctor? Do you have a doctorate? Most people like to put their diplomas up, I notice, if they have credentials. And Webster's Seventh Webster's Seventhisn't even up-to-date. Webster's Eighth Webster's Eighthamends to "one who converses with much enthusiasm." '

'Another Seven-Up?'

'Is Himself still having this hallucination I never speak? Is that why he put the Moms up to having me bike up here? Himself is my dad. We call him Himself. As in quote "the man Himself." As it were. We call my mother the Moms. My brother coined the term. I understand this isn't unusual. I understand most more or less normal families address each other internally by means of pet names and terms and monikers. Don't even think about asking me what my little internal moniker is.'

Tap tap tap.

'But Himself hallucinates, sometimes, lately, you ought to be apprised, was the thrust. I'm wondering why the Moms let him send me pedalling up here uphill against the wind when I've got a challenge match at 3:00 to converse with an enthusiast with a blank door and no diplomas anywhere in view.'

'I, in my small way, would like to think it had as much to do with me as with you. That my reputation preceded me.'

'Isn't that usually a pejorative clause?'

'I am wonderful fun to talk to. I'm a consummate professional. People leave my parlor in states. You are here. It's conversation-time. Shall we discuss Byzantine erotica?'

'How did you know I was interested in Byzantine erotica?'

'You seem persistently to confuse me with someone who merely hangs out a s.h.i.+ngle with the word Conversationalist Conversationalist on it, and this operation with a fly-by-night one strung together with chewing gum and twine. You think I have no support staff? Researchers at my beck? You think we don't delve full-bore into the psyches of those for whom we've made appointments to converse? You don't think this fully accredited limited partners.h.i.+p would have an interest in obtaining data on what informs and stimulates our conversees?' on it, and this operation with a fly-by-night one strung together with chewing gum and twine. You think I have no support staff? Researchers at my beck? You think we don't delve full-bore into the psyches of those for whom we've made appointments to converse? You don't think this fully accredited limited partners.h.i.+p would have an interest in obtaining data on what informs and stimulates our conversees?'

'I know only one person who'd ever use full-bore full-bore in casual conversation.' in casual conversation.'

'There is nothing casual about a professional conversationalist and staff. We delve. We obtain, and then some. Young sir.'

'Okay, Alexandrian or Constantinian?'

'You think we haven't thoroughly researched your own connection with the whole current intra-Provincial crisis in southern Quebec?'

'What intra-Provincial crisis in southern Quebec? I thought you wanted to talk racy mosaics.'

'This is an upscale district of a vital North American metropolis, Hal. Standards here are upscale, and high. A professional conversationalist flat-out full-bore delves delves. Do you for one moment think that a professional plier of the trade of conversation would fail to probe beak-deep into your family's sordid liaison with the pan-Canadian Resistance's notorious M. DuPlessis and his malevolent but allegedly irresistible amanuensis-c.u.m-operative, Luria P ---? '

'Listen, are you okay?'

'Do you?' you?'

'I'm ten ten for Pete's sake. I think maybe your appointment calendar's squares got juggled. I'm the potentially gifted ten-year-old tennis and lexical prodigy whose mom's a continental mover and shaker in the prescriptive-grammar academic world and whose dad's a towering figure in optical and avant-garde film circles and single-handedly founded the Enfield Tennis Academy but drinks Wild Turkey at like 5:00 A.M. and pitches over sideways during dawn drills, on the courts, some days, and some days presents with delusions about people's mouths moving but nothing coming out. I'm not even up to for Pete's sake. I think maybe your appointment calendar's squares got juggled. I'm the potentially gifted ten-year-old tennis and lexical prodigy whose mom's a continental mover and shaker in the prescriptive-grammar academic world and whose dad's a towering figure in optical and avant-garde film circles and single-handedly founded the Enfield Tennis Academy but drinks Wild Turkey at like 5:00 A.M. and pitches over sideways during dawn drills, on the courts, some days, and some days presents with delusions about people's mouths moving but nothing coming out. I'm not even up to J J yet, in the condensed yet, in the condensed O.E.D., O.E.D., much less Quebec or malevolent Lurias.' much less Quebec or malevolent Lurias.'

'... of the fact that photos of the aforementioned... liaison being leaked to Der Spiegel Der Spiegelresulted in the bizarre deaths of both an Ottawan paparazzo and a Bavarian international-affairs editor, of an alpenstock through the abdomen and an ill-swallowed c.o.c.ktail onion, respectively?'

'I just finished jew's-ear jew's-ear. I'm just starting on jew's-harp jew's-harp and the general theory of oral lyres. I've never even and the general theory of oral lyres. I've never even skied skied.'

'That you could dare to imagine we'd fail conversationally to countenance certain weekly shall we say maternal... a.s.signations with a certain unnamed bis.e.xual ba.s.soonist in the Albertan Secret Guard's tactical-bands unit?'

'Gee, is that the exit over there I see?'

'... that your blithe inattention to your own dear grammatical mother's cavortings with not one not two but over thirty thirty Near Eastern medical attaches...? ' Near Eastern medical attaches...? '

'Would it be rude to tell you your mustache is askew?'

'... that her introduction of esoteric mnemonic steroids, stereo-chemically not dissimilar to your father's own daily hypodermic "megavitamin" supplement derived from a certain organic testosterone-regeneration compound distilled by the Jivaro shamen of the South-Central L.A. basin, into your innocent-looking bowl of morning Ralston... .'

'As a matter of fact I'll go ahead and tell you your whole face is kind of running, sort of, if you want to check. Your nose is pointing at your lap.'

'That your quote-unquote "complimentary" Dunlop widebody tennis racquets' super-secret-formulaic composition materials of high-modulus graphite-reinforced polycarbonate polybutylene resin are organochemically identical I say again identical identical to the gyroscopic balance sensor and to the gyroscopic balance sensor and mise-enscene mise-enscene appropriation card and priapistic-entertainment cartridge implanted in your very own towering father's anaplastic cerebrum after his cruel series of detoxifications and convolution-smoothings and gastrectomy and pros-tatectomy and pancreatectomy and phalluctomy...' appropriation card and priapistic-entertainment cartridge implanted in your very own towering father's anaplastic cerebrum after his cruel series of detoxifications and convolution-smoothings and gastrectomy and pros-tatectomy and pancreatectomy and phalluctomy...'

Tap tap. 'SHULGSPAHH.'

'... could possibly escape the combined investigative attention of...? '

'And it strikes me I've definitely seen that argyle sweater-vest before. That's Himself's special Interdependence-Day-celebratory-dinner argyle sweater-vest, that he makes a point of never having cleaned. I know those stains. I was there for that clot of veal marsala right there. Is this whole appointment a date-connected thing? Is this April Fools, Dad, or do I need to call the Moms and C.T.?'

'... who requires only daily evidence that you speak? speak? That you recognize the occasional vista beyond your own generous Mondragonoid nose's fleshy tip?' That you recognize the occasional vista beyond your own generous Mondragonoid nose's fleshy tip?'

'You rented a whole office and face for this, but leave your old unmistakable sweater-vest on? And how'd you even get down here before me, with the Mercury up on blocks after you... did you fool C.T. into giving you the keys to a functional car?'

'Who used to pray daily for the day his own dear late father would sit, cough, open that b.l.o.o.d.y issue of the Tucson Citizen, Tucson Citizen,and not turn that newspaper into the room's fifth wall? And who after all this light and noise has apparently sp.a.w.ned the same silence?'

'Who's lived his whole ruddy b.l.o.o.d.y cruddy life in five-walled rooms?'

'Dad, I've got a duly scheduled challenge match with Schacht in like twelve minutes, wind at my downhill back or no. I've got this oral-lyrologist who's going to be outside Brighton Best Savings wearing a predesignated necktie at straight-up five. I have to mow his lawn for a month for this interview. I can't just sit here watching you think I'm mute while your fake nose points at the floor. And are you hearing me talking, Dad? It speaks. It accepts soda and defines implore implore and converses with you.' and converses with you.'

'Praying for just one conversation, amateur or no, that does not end in terror? That does not end like all the others: you staring, me swallowing?'

'Son?'

'Son?'

9 MAY - YEAR OF THE DEPEND ADULT UNDERGARMENT

Another way fathers impact sons is that sons, once their voices have changed in p.u.b.erty, invariably answer the telephone with the same locutions and intonations as their fathers. This holds true regardless of whether the fathers are still alive.

Because he left his dormitory room before 0600 for dawn drills and often didn't get back there until after supper, packing his book bag and knapsack and gear bag for the whole day, together with selecting his best-strung racquets - it all took Hal some time. Plus he usually collected and packed and selected in the dark, and with stealth, because his brother Mario was usually still asleep in the other bed. Mario didn't drill and couldn't play, and needed all the sleep he could get.

Hal held his complimentary gear bag and was putting different pairs of sweats to his face, trying to find the cleanest pair by smell, when the telephone console sounded. Mario thrashed and sat up in bed, a small hunched shape with a big head against the gray light of the window. Hal got to the console on the second ring and had the transparent phone's antenna out by the third.

His way of answering the phone sounded like 'Mmmyellow.'

'I want to tell you,' the voice on the phone said. 'My head is filled with things to say.'

Hal held three pairs of E.T.A. sweatpants in the hand that didn't hold the phone. He saw his older brother succ.u.mb to gravity and fall back limp against the pillows. Mario often sat up and fell back still asleep.

'I don't mind,' Hal said softly. 'I could wait forever.'

'That's what you think,' the voice said. The connection was cut. It had been Orin.

'Hey Hal?'

The light in the room was a creepy gray, a kind of nonlight. Hal could hear Brandt laughing at something Kenkle had said, off down the hall, and the clank of their janitorial buckets. The person on the phone had been O.

'Hey Hal?' Mario was awake. It took four pillows to support Mario's oversized skull. His voice came from the tangled bedding. 'Is it still dark out, or is it me?'

'Go back to sleep. It isn't even six.' Hal put the good leg into the sweat-pants first.

'Who was it?'

Shoving three coverless Dunlop widebodies into the gear bag and zipping the bag partway up so the handles had room to stick out. Carrying all three bags back over to the console to deactivate the ringer on the phone. He said, 'No one you know, I don't think.'

YEAR OF THE DEPEND ADULT UNDERGARMENT.

Though only one-half ethnic Arab and a Canadian by birth and residence, the medical attache is nevertheless once again under Saudi diplomatic immunity, this time as special ear-nose-throat consultant to the personal physician of Prince Q ---, the Saudi Minister of Home Entertainment, here on northeastern U.S.A. soil with his legation to cut another mammoth deal with InterLace TelEntertainment. The medical attache turns thirty-seven tomorrow, Thursday, 2 April in the North American lunar Y.D.A.U. The legation finds the promotional subsidy of the North American calendar hilariously vulgar. To say nothing of the arresting image of the idolatrous West's most famous and self-congratulating idol, the colossal Libertine Statue, wearing some type of enormous adult-design diaper, a hilariously apposite image popular in the news photos of so many international journals.

The attache's medical practice being normally divided between Montreal and the Rub' al Khali, it is his first trip back to U.S.A. soil since completing his residency eight years ago. His duties here involve migrating with the Prince and his retinue between InterLace's two hubs of manufacture and dissemination in Phoenix, Arizona U.S.A. and Boston, Ma.s.sachusetts U.S.A., respectively, offering expert E.N.T. a.s.sistance to the personal physician of Prince Q --- . The medical attache's particular expertise is the maxillofacial consequences of imbalances in intestinal flora. Prince Q --- (as would anyone who refuses to eat pretty much anything but Toblerone) suffers chronically from Candida albicans, Candida albicans, with attendant susceptibilities to monilial sinusitis and thrush, the yeasty sores and sinal impactions of which require almost daily drainage in the cold and damp of early-spring Boston, U.S.A. A veritable artist, possessed of a deftness nonpareil with cotton swab and evacuation-hypo, the medical attache is known among the shrinking upper cla.s.ses of petro-Arab nations as the DeBakey of maxillofacial yeast, his staggering fee-scale as wholly with attendant susceptibilities to monilial sinusitis and thrush, the yeasty sores and sinal impactions of which require almost daily drainage in the cold and damp of early-spring Boston, U.S.A. A veritable artist, possessed of a deftness nonpareil with cotton swab and evacuation-hypo, the medical attache is known among the shrinking upper cla.s.ses of petro-Arab nations as the DeBakey of maxillofacial yeast, his staggering fee-scale as wholly ad valorem ad valorem.

Saudi consulting fees, in particular, are somewhere just past obscene, but the medical attache's duties on this trip are personally draining and sort of nauseous, and when he arrives back at the sumptuous apartments he had his wife sublet in districts far from the legation's normal Back Bay and Scottsdale digs, at the day's end, he needs unwinding in the very worst way. A more than averagely devout follower of the North American sufism promulgated in his childhood by Pir Valayat, the medical attache partakes of neither kif nor distilled spirits, and must unwind without chemical aid. When he arrives home after evening prayers, he wants to look upon a spicy and 100% shari'a-halal shari'a-halal dinner piping hot and arranged and steaming pleasantly on its attachable tray, he wants his bib ironed and laid out by the tray at the ready, and he wants the living room's teleputer booted and warmed up and the evening's entertainment cartridges already selected and arranged and lined up in dock ready for remote insertion into the viewer's drive. He reclines before the viewer in his special electronic recliner, and his black-veiled, ethnically Arab wife wordlessly attends him, loosening any constrictive clothing, adjusting the room's lighting, fitting the complexly molded dinner tray over his head so that his shoulders support the tray and allow it to project into s.p.a.ce just below his chin, that he may enjoy his hot dinner without having to remove his eyes from whatever entertainment is up and playing. He has a narrow imperial-style beard which his wife also attends and keeps free of detritus from the tray just below. The medical attache sits and watches and eats and watches, unwinding by visible degrees, until the angles of his body in the chair and his head on his neck indicate that he has pa.s.sed into sleep, at which point his special electronic recliner can be made automatically to recline to full horizontal, and luxuriant silk-a.n.a.log bedding emerges flowingly from long slots in the appliance's sides; and, unless his wife is inconsiderate and clumsy with the recliner's remote hand-held controls, the medical attache is permitted to ease effortlessly from unwound spectation into a fully relaxed night's sleep, still right there in the rec.u.mbent recliner, the TP set to run a recursive loop of low-volume surf and light rain on broad green leaves. dinner piping hot and arranged and steaming pleasantly on its attachable tray, he wants his bib ironed and laid out by the tray at the ready, and he wants the living room's teleputer booted and warmed up and the evening's entertainment cartridges already selected and arranged and lined up in dock ready for remote insertion into the viewer's drive. He reclines before the viewer in his special electronic recliner, and his black-veiled, ethnically Arab wife wordlessly attends him, loosening any constrictive clothing, adjusting the room's lighting, fitting the complexly molded dinner tray over his head so that his shoulders support the tray and allow it to project into s.p.a.ce just below his chin, that he may enjoy his hot dinner without having to remove his eyes from whatever entertainment is up and playing. He has a narrow imperial-style beard which his wife also attends and keeps free of detritus from the tray just below. The medical attache sits and watches and eats and watches, unwinding by visible degrees, until the angles of his body in the chair and his head on his neck indicate that he has pa.s.sed into sleep, at which point his special electronic recliner can be made automatically to recline to full horizontal, and luxuriant silk-a.n.a.log bedding emerges flowingly from long slots in the appliance's sides; and, unless his wife is inconsiderate and clumsy with the recliner's remote hand-held controls, the medical attache is permitted to ease effortlessly from unwound spectation into a fully relaxed night's sleep, still right there in the rec.u.mbent recliner, the TP set to run a recursive loop of low-volume surf and light rain on broad green leaves.

Except, that is, for Wednesday nights, which in Boston are permitted to be his wife's Arab Women's Advanced League tennis night with the other legation wives and companions at the plush Mount Auburn Club in West Watertown, on which nights she is not around wordlessly to attend him, since Wednesday is the U.S.A. weekday on which fresh Toblerone hits Boston, Ma.s.sachusetts U.S.A.'s Newbury Street's import-confectioners' shelves, and the Saudi Minister of Home Entertainment's inability to control his appet.i.tes for Wednesday Toblerone often requires the medical attache to remain in personal attendance all evening on the bulk-rented fourteenth floor of the Back Bay Hilton, juggling tongue-depressors and cotton swabs, nystatin and ibuprofen and stiptics and antibiotic thrush salves, rehabilitating the mucous membranes of the dyspeptic and distressed and often (but not always) penitent and appreciative Saudi Prince Q --- . So on 1 April, Y.D.A.U., when the medical attache is (it is alleged) insufficiently deft with a Q-Tip on an ulcerated sinal necrosis and is subjected at just 1800h. to a fit of febrile thrus.h.i.+ve pique from the florally imbalanced Minister of Home Entertainment, and is by high-volume fiat replaced at the royal bedside by the Prince's personal physician, who's summoned by beeper from the Hilton's sauna, and when the damp personal physician pats the medical attache on the shoulder and tells him to pay the pique no mind, that it's just the yeast talking, but to just head on home and unwind and for once make a well-deserved early Wednesday evening of it, and but so when the attache does get home, at like 1840h., his s.p.a.cious Boston apartments are empty, the living room lights undimmed, dinner unheated and the attachable tray still in the dishwasher and - worst - of course no entertainment cartridges have been obtained from the Boylston St. InterLace outlet where the medical attache's wife, like all the veiled wives and companions of the Prince's legatees, has a complimentary goodwill account. And even if he weren't far too exhausted and tightly wound to venture back into the damp urban night to pick up entertainment cartridges, the medical attache realizes that his wife has, as always on Wednesdays, taken the car with the diplomatic-immunity license plates, without which your thinking alien wouldn't even dream of trying to park publicly at night in Boston, Ma.s.sachusetts U.S.A.

The medical attache's unwinding-options are thus severely constricted. The living room's lavish TP receives also the spontaneous disseminations of the InterLace Subscription Pulse-Matrix, but the procedures for ordering specific spontaneous pulses from the service are so technologically and cryptographically complex that the attache has always left the whole business to his wife. On this Wednesday night, trying b.u.t.tons and abbreviations almost at random, the attache is able to summon up only live U.S.A. professional sports - which he has always found brutish and repellent - Texaco Oil Companysponsored opera - which the attache has seen today more than enough of the human uvula thank you very much - a redisseminated episode of the popular afternoon InterLace children's program 'Mr. Bouncety-Bounce' - which the attache thinks for a moment might be a doc.u.mentary on bipolar mood disorders until he catches on and thumbs the selection-panel hastily - and a redisseminated session of the scantily clad variable-impact early-A.M. 'Fit Forever' home-aerobics series of the InterLace aerobics-guru Ms. Tawni Kondo, the scantily clad and splay-limbed immodesty of which threatens the devout medical attache with the possibility of impure thoughts.

The only entertainment cartridges anywhere in the apartment, a foul-tempered search reveals, are those which have arrived in Wednesday's U.S.A. postal delivery, left on the sideboard in the living room along with personal and professional faxes and mail the medical attache declines to read until it's been pre-scanned by his wife for relevant interest to himself. The sideboard is against the wall opposite the room's electronic recliner under a triptych of high-quality Byzantine erotica. The padded cartridge-mailers with their distinctive rectangular bulge are mixed haphazardly in with the less entertaining mail. Searching for something to unwind with, the medical attache tears the different padded mailers open along their designated perforations. There is an O.N.A.N.M.A. Specialty Service film on actinomycete-cla.s.s antibiotics and irritable bowel syndrome. There is 1 April Y.D.A.U.'s CBC/PATHe North American News Summary 40-minute cartridge, available daily by a wife's auto-subscription and either transmitted to TP by unrecordable InterLace pulse or express-posted on a single-play ROM self-erasing disk. There is the Arabic-language video edition of April's Self Self magazine for the attache's wife, magazine for the attache's wife, Na.s.s Na.s.s's cover's model chastely swathed and veiled. There is a plain brown and irritatingly unt.i.tled cartridge-case in a featureless white three-day standard U.S.A. First Cla.s.s padded cartridge-mailer. The padded mailer is postmarked suburban Phoenix area in Arizona U.S.A., and the return-address box has only the term 'HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!,' with a small drawn crude face, smiling, in ballpoint ink, instead of a return address or incorporated logo. Though by birth and residence a native of Quebec, where the language of discourse is not English, the medical attache knows quite well that the English word anniversary anniversary does not mean the same as does not mean the same as birthday birthday. And the medical attache and his veiled wife were united in the eyes of G.o.d and Prophet not in April but in October, four years prior, in the Rub'al Khali. Adding to the padded mailer's confusion is the fact that anything from Prince Q ---'s legation in Phoenix, Arizona U.S.A. would carry a diplomatic seal instead of routine O.N.A.N. postage. The medical attache, in sum, feels tightly wound and badly underappreciated and is prepared in advance to be irritated by the item inside, which is merely a standard black entertainment cartridge, but is wholly unlabelled and not in any sort of colorful or informative or inviting cartridge-case, and has only another of these vapid U.S.A.-type circular smiling heads embossed upon it where the registration- and duration-codes are supposed to be embossed. The medical attache is puzzled by the cryptic mailer and face and case and unlabelled entertainment, and preliminarily irritated by the amount of time he's had to spend upright at the sideboard attending to mail, which is not his task. The sole reason he does not throw the unlabelled cartridge in the wastecan or put it aside for his wife to preview for relevance is because there are such woefully slim entertainment-pickings on his wife's irritating Americanized tennis-league evening away from her place at home. The attache will pop the cartridge in and scan just enough of its contents to determine whether it is irritating or of an irrelevant nature and not entertaining or engaging in any way. He will heat the prepared halal halal lamb and spicy lamb and spicy halal halal garnish in the microwave oven until piping-hot, arrange it attractively on his tray, preview the first few moments of the puzzling and/or irritating or possibly mysteriously blank entertainment cartridge first, then unwind with the news summary, then perhaps have a quick unlibidinous look at garnish in the microwave oven until piping-hot, arrange it attractively on his tray, preview the first few moments of the puzzling and/or irritating or possibly mysteriously blank entertainment cartridge first, then unwind with the news summary, then perhaps have a quick unlibidinous look at Na.s.s Na.s.s's spring line of s.e.xless black devout-women's-wear, then will insert the recursive surf-and-rain cartridge and make a well-deserved early Wednesday evening of it, hoping only that his wife will not return from her tennis league in her perspiration-dampened black ankle-length tennis ensemble and remove his dinner tray from his sleeping neck in a clumsy or undeft fas.h.i.+on that will awaken him, potentially.

When he settles in with the tray and cartridge, the TP's viewer's digital display reads 1927h.

YEAR OF THE TRIAL-SIZE DOVE BAR.