The Melancholy Korean: Full Serial

A Question of Intent

2008-07-23T11:07:00Z

Why should not old men be mad?

Young men, too.

Some have known...

I was unlucky.

A girl

A girl? A whore, a cunt, a bitch, etc etc

who knew all Dante once

Live to bear children to a dunce.

They laughed at me, Kitty.

Seeing that thou comest into such scorn by the companionship of this lady, wherefore seekest thou to behold her?

Mr. Alighieri, if you please.

S'io non perdessi le mie vertudi, e fossi libero tanto che io le potessi rispondere, io le direi, che sì tosto com'io imagino la sua mirabile bellezza, sì tosto mi giugne uno desiderio di vederla, lo quale è di tanta vertude, che uccide e distrugge ne la mia memoria, ciò che contra lui si potesse levare...

I had no choice.

...and it is therefore that the great anguish I have endured thereby is not yet enough to restrain me from seeking to behold her.

Sermon on the Lower East Side

2008-07-21T01:30:00Z

To you, the clever hipster boys of the Lower East Side and your Asian girlfriends, to you, the style makers and the hopelessly uncool bankers and consultants, to you, the millionaire artists, frat boy barbarians, Jersey girl whores, and Midwestern simpletons, to you, the denizens of the Lower East Side, I come in the name of the One whose peace passes all understanding, the Most High Creator of the Universe, having been charged by Him to bring a message, Signed, Sealed, and Delivered from Heaven itself, so that you might know your head from your ass. I come to stop you from jumping off the precipice of pretension into the valley of the shadow of Poseurs.

Cash on Delivery. COD. No checks or money orders, please. Your credit is no longer good at the Bank of Jehovah. My children of Delancy and Orchard, you have sinned against God. You cannot deny it. Your disbelief cries out into the ears of mine God, your pseudo-intellectual, so-called conversation grates on the ears of all the angels, your artwork condemns you as blind, your music, as deaf. Must I remind you that He is sovereign over the entire universe? That His charge includes the tiny islands of Good Taste, Beauty, and Intelligence, that you yourself claim to rule?

I can hear your wormy little minds working hard to prepare for me poison darts of contempt and sarcasm. Dawkins. Hitchens. Russell. The opiate of the masses. The Spaghetti Monster. The God Machine of Colbert, Corddry and Bee.

But you have it wrong, you clever little bastards. Remember the wise words of Warren Buffett and learn to tremble: If you don't know who the fool is at the poker table, guess what, you're the fool. You think the punchline is God and the joke is the poor, ignorant masses who believe.

Do this for me. Take the wax out of your ears and listen carefully. Do you hear that?

Fools! Will you never understand? You are the punchline. You are the big fat joke God uses to keep the rest of us entertained. Better than Chris Rock's first HBO special, your way of life proves the existence of God.

Look around, assholes. Where do you think you are? The Lower East Side? For so many years, the greatest minds of humanity have struggled with this problem, Aristotle, Aquinas, Newman, but this Monday morning, here in Roosevelt Park, in the year of our Lord, anno Domini, two thousand and eight, let it be said that I can prove the point, once and for all.

This is not the Lower East Side, you unhappy morons. Open your eyes! Forget what you think you know. Open your eyes! Look around you! Do you get it now? This is not the Lower East Side of the Realtor's Bible of Aspiration and Gentrification. No, no, no. This is that terrifying Hades the Old Books mention, the Old Books from every religious tradition spanning every human civilzation for thousands of years, the Hades from which there is no escape. This is the ferryman's final destination on the river Styx. This is Hell.

Dream

2008-07-18T11:00:52Z

"i need to talk to you."

"Are you drunk?"

"Nicky, I need to talk to you."

"What's up, Sweet Cheeks? You wet your bed?"

"I had a dream I was sailing in Cape Cod with Mitt Romney."

(silence)

(silence)

(silence)

"You need to get out more, Cupcake."

"No, wait."

"No, Butter Fingers, you wait. You wanna talk about dreams? I had one about a couple of Brazilian whores and this huge snake..."

"Christ, Nicky. Just listen for a sec."

"If you're gonna get all homo on me, Buddy Boy, I'm gonna get a drink myself."

"Sybil was on the boat, too."

(silence)

"Much better."

"Romney kept asking her who enjoyed sex more, men or women."

"He should have asked her if the sky was blue."

"Christ, Nicky. Could you just listen?"

"I gotta bad feeling about this, Cupcake. Just listen to mine. These two broads were naked, just laid out on my bed, ready for the taking, and then this huge snake, it must've been the size of..."

"Do you want to know what she said?"

"Keep it clean. None of that homo Mormon shit."

"Nicky, you'll like it."

"I'm all ears, Doc."

"Out of ten parts, a man enjoys only one."

(silence)

"Then she made Romney go blind, and he started screaming like a stuck pig. I had to push him out of the way to get to the steering wheel thing, it was like one of those America's Cup yachts, Nicky, the boat was so big, and then I realized we weren't on the Cape at all. We were on a river."

(silence)

"Swear to Christ, I started bawling like a baby. Because I knew it wasn't any river."

(silence)

"It was the river Styx, Nicky, and we were sailing straight to hell."

Felicity's Letter - Part 4

2008-07-16T10:29:19Z

Saturday, a little before noon. Do you remember any of this, Melancholy? I'm waiting for you at Mother's house in Connecticut because I had a photo shoot the next day in New Canaan. A wedding of a friend. You didn't want to come to her house, I could tell, when I told you I had to change our plans. But it could have worked out so well. I told her all about you while I was there. I told her how smart you were, how much of a gentleman you were, that you were nothing at all like Ken. She seemed not to hate you, which was a good sign, because I wasn't sure if she was going to approve of someone who used to be Ken's best friend. I'll admit I didn't mention the Korean thing, either.

What a disaster. Why were you so late, Melancholy? Forty-five mintues! You didn't call to let me know what was happening. Did it ever cross your mind what I might be going through?

And then when you arrived! Why were you so awkward, Melancholy? You came to the door, and I introduced you to Mother, and then you went crazy, Melancholy. You went crazy.

"Melancholy, I want to introduce you to my mother, Barbara."

"Barbara. That means barbarian."

"Excuse me?"

"The Greeks called anyone who didn't know Greek a barbarian. That's what the foreigners sounded like to them. Bar bar bar."

Oh God, Melancholy. What a stupid thing to say. Why didn't you say hello and nice to meet to you, like every other guy who's ever come to the house? You know what Mother can be like. No, that's not fair. You didn't. But you learned fast, didn't you?

"How that's again?"

You weren't supposed to answer, Melancholy. You weren't supposed to answer.

"It's what foreigners sounded like to them."

"Barbara. It was my grandmother's name."

"Bar bar bar. Non Greeks. Hence, Bar-bar-a. Barbarian."

"You are an educated young man, aren't you?"

"So I've been told."

"Yes."

I've been at funerals that had more warmth, Melancholy.

"To think that I could pass for a foreigner."

"He didn't mean that, Mother."

"I'll have to tell my friends at DAR about this."

"What's that?"

"A club for foreign women, apparently. I'm surprised you haven't heard of it, Melancholy. I would have been sure your mother..."

"We'll see you later, Mother."

What were you thinking, Melancholy? Why that stupid story? I turned my head as we were going to the car, and Mother gave me that look, that raised eyebrow, who does this guy think he is, look and then shut the door of the house. You totally humiliated me in front of her, Melancholy. But you had no idea.

Seeing Red

2008-07-15T12:24:19Z

"A pretty girl like you should have a boyfriend."

"Sir, I don't think..."

"Aw, I'm not trying to embarrass you, Dollface. I'm just saying there's lots of guys who would love to take you out, if you give 'em a chance."

(silence)

"Melancholy isn't feeling well enough to take your call, sir."

"Tell that Sally Mae to get his ass on the phone, or I'll come up there and cut off his balls myself."

(silence)

(silence)

(silence)

"Christ, Nicky. Do me a favor, ok? Don't talk about balls around Prune. She's a nice girl."

"Hey, Cupcake, it's nice to fucking talk to you, too. It's been a long time. How's your wife and kids? You know what I mean? Some manners you got."

"Look, Nicky. She's an old-fashioned girl. She's not used to barbarians like you. I mean, I wake up this morning, to what? Prune telling me you're gonna cut off my balls. Just like that, word for word. Is this Jesse Jackson on the phone?"

"No offense intended, Funny Guy, but you sure there's something for me to cut off?"

"Fuck off, Nicky."

"How long you gonna cry about that slut, Kit-Kat, or whatever her name is? How many more years you gonna let Prune hang around, waiting for you to notice her?"

"Christ."

"When did you cut your nuts off again? 'Cause I think I must've missed that party."

"You've unbelievable."

"Now, you tell me something, Mister-I-Know-Fifteen-Languages-That-No-One-Speaks-Anymore. How come you don't ask that nice girl Prune out? What's that, Buttercup?"

(silence)

"I can't believe nothing has ever happened between you two. Not even once. Some late night, she's hanging around, a little too much to drink, maybe you're in the kitchen together..."

(silence)

"If you're not careful, Cupcake, one of these days some guy's gonna make the move, and then where will you be? Up that shit creek, that's where."

"I can't believe I'm listening to this."

"Believe it, Sweetie. 'Cause it's gonna happen, sooner than you think. She likes you, but she isn't gonna wait forever, you know? Some guy's gonna snatch her right up and..."

"Leave her the fuck alone, Nicky."

(silence)

"You're right, Cupcake. I mean, you don't have any balls, anyway. What would be the point."

(silence... then laughter)

"Stimulatus ibi furente rabie, vagus animis,

devolsit ili acuto sibi pondera silice..."

"What, you cussing at me in French now?"

"Latin, Nicky. It's from a poem you'll like. About a guy who cuts off his balls to worship a goddess."

(silence)

"You know, Cupcake, it still amazes me you paid good money to study that shit in college."

Fool

2008-07-13T12:53:02Z

You knew the answer, but you asked her anyway.

Fool.

Quae tibi manet vita? Quis nunc te adibit? Cui videberis bella? Quem nunc amabis? Cuius esse diceris? Quem basiabis? Cui labella mordebis?

What life is left for you?

Marco.

To whom will you be beautiful?

Marco.

Who will now come to you?

Marco.

Whom will you kiss? Whose lips will you bite?

Marco. Marco. Marco.

Whom will you love, in sickness and in health?

Marco.

Fatuus Marcus. Marco the Dunce.

What will they call you, Kitty, now and forever?

Marco's wife.

Creative Destruction

2008-07-11T14:40:45Z

"Prune?"

"Yes, sir?"

"He's not taking my calls."

"Melancholy disconnected the phone in his room, sir."

"Can you bring the phone up to him?"

"If you insist, sir."

"Yes, Prune. I insist."

"Mell."

"I can't do it, captain."

"I have an idea."

"No."

"Come on, Mell. You don't even know what it is."

"No."

(silence)

"Fine, Mell. Whatever you say."

(silence)

"Have you seen Fannie and Freddie today?"

"I could give a shit, captain."

"It might be game over, Mell. Unbelievable. If the Feds take over the debt, that's like another five trillion added on. The US government would be ten trillion dollars in the hole, Mell!

(silence)

"They're not gonna do that."

"I don't know, Mell. They're making plans now."

"Even the morons Cheney hired to manage the economy are not that stupid."

(silence)

"Backseat himself, though... I'm not so sure, captain. I love how the lesson he took away from Reagan was that deficits don't matter. Clearly, Mr. Yale Dropout never traded in the bond market."

"There you go, Mell."

"And what's with his wife writing all that lesbian cowgirl porn? Seriously, is the whole fucking Republican Party run by a bunch of closeted homos?"

"Ha, Mell."

"Since I went to Yale, I guess I know the fucking answer. Yes, yes, yes."

"Ha, ha. Jesus."

"Maybe next time we can nominate a candidate for President who doesn't admit he knows nothing about the economy. Or are we trying to lose this election by Mondale-like proportions?"

"Tell me about it, Mell. McCain's 30 bid now."

"That's another one of your great trades, captain."

Bailout

2008-07-10T20:42:00Z

"Just..."

"Billy, no. I'm not doing it."

"Come on, Kate."

"I'm not calling Felicity."

"Prune told me he hasn't been eating the last couple days."

"Look, Billy. They're not together anymore. What's she supposed to do? She's not even the one getting married."

"I think it could really help him to talk to her."

"It's not like this is the first time a girl gets married and her weirdo stalker goes crazy."

"He's not a stalker, Kate. Come on. That's not fair."

"Billy, look. I'm sorry he's sad..."

"Not sad. Depressed. That's what the doctor said."

"OK. I'm sorry Melancholy's depressed. But the world doesn't revolve around him, ok? He needs to learn to grow up."

(silence)

"I should probably go back up there this weekend."

"No way, Billy."

(silence)

(silence)

"Melancholy. It's always about Melancholy. Look what he's done to you and Harry, Billy. And don't get me started on Prune. That poor girl needs to get away from him."

"I have to go up there, Kate."

(silence)

"This is so sad to see what you've become, Billy. Melancholy is..."

"Let's not fight anymore, please?"

"He's a vulture, Billy. An emotional vulture. He just swoops down whenever he wants and feeds on all the innocent people around him."

Tintinant Aures

2008-07-09T10:33:15Z

"A few more questions."

(sigh)

"I have time for only one today."

"Haven't you read your Pound? What advice does Mr. Nixon give?"

"Consider carefully the reviewer."

"Good, so don't you think..."

"I never mentioned a man but with a view

Of selling my own works.

The tip's a good one, as for literature

It gives no man a sinecure."

(silence)

(silence)

"One question."

"Don't you think this has gone too far?"

"Not far enough, sometimes. Kingstown pier, a disappointed bridge."

"The scope is audacious. Aren't you worried you've bitten off more than you can chew?"

(silence)

"I'll answer with my own question. Have you ever heard of the Kissinger rule?"

"No."

"As an undergraduate at Harvard, Kissinger wrote a thesis that was almost four hundred pages long. The Kissinger rule states no thesis is to be longer than a hundred pages."

"I don't understand how this relates to Melancholy."

"His biographer, Walter Isaacson, wrote that having bitten off more than he could chew, Kissinger proceeded to chew more than he bit off."

Trieste - Part 10

2008-07-08T11:44:03Z

"Primo."

"You gentlemen would like..."

"Primo. Adesso."

The old man waved his hand as though he were swatting away a fly.

"Please, you must forgive my friend. He has no manners." He turned to the Clown. "I am speaking to Americans."

"Americani?"

He tapped his fingers on Melancholy's chest again. Tap, tap.

"Yes, real Americans."

The old man was cave-chested and thin. Like Gandhi, Melancholy thought. Disgusting. He must have grown up in the war. That's why he's so small. But he hasn't managed to leave behind the same clean smell. If he taps me again, I'm going to strangle this little fucker.

"Americans. But this one speaks Italian. Che meravigliosa sorpresa."

God, it's pathetic how these Italians grovel before their tourist masters. The whole country's turned into a goddamn museum. It's forever stuck showing the greatest hits of Western Civilization, so the morons can go back home and tell the other in-breds they've seen "Michael Angelo."

"You enjoy Trieste?"

"We've just arrived, actually. Melancholy and I were about to go to lunch, so if you would please excuse us, we should probably..."

"Melancholy? Si chiama Melancholy? Davvero?"

"Really, it's been nice chatting but I'm about to faint with hunger, and I know Melancholy feels the same way. It's been very nice. But we must be going."

"Harry, wait. One moment. He asked me a question, and it would be rude not to answer."

"Primo."

"Aspetta."

"What do I think of Trieste? One of your journalists, Mazzi, once said that to understand Trieste is impossible. We can only love her. Capire Trieste, da lontano e da vicino, è difficile. Forse la si può solo amare, e basta."