"And perhaps it is only through self-immolation of such a nature that we living beings can offer to you the entire truth of ourselves within the reasonable boundaries of a book."

- Tennessee Williams, Memoirs

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by Luke Edwards

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Twenty-Eight

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These are the odd, last pages of the "first version" Gnome notebook:


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The story Lois on the phone well and

Gene said to say "hi" too, Marco's

back from his honeymoon...hey! how

did Gene know?  He don't even like him."

"Nor I," Mom says. "At least he's married.

And that stops the one thing I had thought."

"Good for you," I shot at her, reminded again

(it's been years since she's expressed phobia)

her phobia.

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I've changed some of the above from Edward's original notes which were written in much shorter linebreaks. The next eighteen lines will be copied exactly as they appeared to give a flavor of the original. - Lucas Edwards 

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...my un

due

par

anoi

a.  Son of...

Renter after...

Student of...

(I

in

trovert too

man

y things.

(Wo

men

wish by

gones

were fore

grounds.

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I return to my own preferred presentation for some of the rest. - Lucas Edwards.

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I heard

the Word and 

flew in on a train¹

to preach or teach or to 

have a church. I lurched into the workings wrong,

proclaiming, "I'm omni'mportant" before losing my Self.

This must be said: I read about the winter-waiting

Sabboth (Saturday? am I thus resolved?) after leaving

Sunday², done the deed and

did I mislead the masses (one or two?) unto Time to

Rebelieve (as it is and was and will be) in the Redeemer

reborn or reappointed unto Earth which is too true

and time will tell. I've gone to hell by trying to save

my life. I played the knife, got back my breath only

to keep silent equals death in hell again. Receive this

false prophet's Word, because soundwaves are eternal, you

have heard Christ's bloody baptism. I am drowned, renowned.

And you knew "All the Time." God, I'll never

ever.... No! Why

You chose me³ that then in this I oppose

Thee, such showing

those not knowing,

and having Christ carried overland.

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To Harar? From twin peaks.

There is nothing more to quote from the Gnome notebook of Edward Lacie. I'm reminded of Robert Bartlett Haas's comment, in A Primer for the Gradual Understanding of Gertrude Stein, "This book is interesting as there is as much failure as success in it." I cannot say A is A.

My work here is done. I, Lucas Edwards, have taught Ed everything he needs to know to commit the murder. He has the equation and knows it is inevitable.

"The verdict was in. Guilty. Life imprisonment," Bill Kurtis intones. I'd never realized what a perfect time this is to write, while Jim Post sleeps. His taste in tv is so like mine.

The verdict is in. Baysans has to be killed in order for Lacie to become successful. I must go check in on how my [stud]ent and his next v[i]ct[i]m are doing.

I've found a book which Ed has forgotten about. The Trip is the actual incantation which led to seer status, written during a train trip to Seattle and back to Spokane, in which almost every sentence is its own poem, has its own title, a hypnotizing method, this extended over hours and hours and hours.

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And vibrating on the train hours.
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Experience on the move.
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IMPORTANT: READ THE ENDING OF HARAR: TAKEN TO TWIN PEAKS BEFORE CONTINUING WITH THIS PARALLEL (bouleversement) VERSION! - Lucas Edwards