Borderlands 5 Read online

  A few weeks later, while I was in the hospital in San Francisco, the atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and Japan was forced to surrender. I saw pictures of the roiling black mushroom cloud reaching up to the skies. I read about this new, unstoppable, terrible weapon that was born to wreak vengeance on the enemy, and remembered Moze talking about evil, how God could end this war with a Joshua.

  For a long time after that, I worried about my soul as well as my sanity.

  But the Army headshrinkers finally convinced me that I was Okay, that Moze on Okinawa was just a glitch in my thinking brought on by stress, and I went home to New York. I went into the family business—men’s clothing and haberdashery—and business was good. So I got married to a wonderful, beautiful girl named Maxine, bought a house and made babies, all the American Dream stuff that we fought—and a lot of us died—for. Life went on.

  But I couldn’t forget Moze. As time went on and my children got older, I began to do some research. I wanted to find out what had really happened to him, and what the muddy scrap of paper meant. I wrote letters to Washington, to other men in Moze’s unit—and I began to read the Kabbalah. It took a few years, but I finally pieced the story together. Moze’s unit had indeed been sent to a small camp in Germany, and Moze did go insane and kill a German civilian—and his C.O. sent him back to the States with a Section 8. He died in 1950, in the psych ward at the V.A. Hospital in New York.

  Moze had been shipped out in June of ’45—two weeks before I met him in Okinawa. One of his buddies wrote and told me that the day before he was shipped out to New York, Moze had done something very strange. He was allowed an hour each day to exercise outdoors before returning to the prison they had made for him out of the camp Kommendant’s office. That last hour he spent digging with his fingers in the soft earth near the graves. That night, he escaped—only to be recaptured, standing by the mass graves, alternately laughing and weeping.

  He raved and babbled on like a demon, the letter read. He said he could make the war be over. Then he’d cry and say his soul was four-footed, or something like that. But, he said he had to save somebody else.

  I don’t mind telling you that it was a mighty scary thing, seeing Moze like that. He was always such a nice, gentle guy. Wouldn’t hardly swat a mosquito.

  I remembered Moze’s sad eyes, haunted by the dreams that were too horribly true. “I must believe, or my soul is forfeit,” he had said. His family, his sanity, his life were indeed forfeit to this war. But he had his faith.

  Faith enough to bring forth a Golem. Not enough to save the world, but enough to protect a friend. Enough for me to understand.

  N0072-JK1

  STUDY OF SYNAPTIC RESPONSE OF THE ORGANISM TO SPONTANEOUS STIMULATION OF VULNERABILITY ZONES. PHOTOGRAPHIC ANALYSIS.

  ADAM CORBIN FUSCO

  Sometimes we encounter a story so disturbing, its appeal goes way beyond merely liking or disliking it. The following piece is presented with such dispassionate realism, we could not get it out of our minds. If you have ever read any of the professional journals of the “social sciences,” you will appreciate Adam Fusco’s razor-edged satire.

  —A study is made of synaptic response focusing on the laughter vector during spontaneous stimulation of vulnerability zones, popularly known as the Tickle Response. This is to address the question, Why do we laugh when tickled?

  —Each subject, in an isolated room with a chair and monitor, was instructed to remove footwear and to place the right foot through a black screen. Subjects were told they were to be tickled on the sole of the foot by a robotic, metal hand. This was done to render invalid any foreknowledge of human interaction and “play” expectations. In actuality, a researcher donned a metallic glove to perform the stimulation.

  —During stimulation subjects were shown via the monitor three comedic performances along three modalities: an HBO special of a prominent comedian, a Three Stooges short, and cartoon imagery that contained violence. The laughter response with and without visual input was measured and found to be non-cumulative: it did not increase from visualizing comedic performance, nor was it prevented by administration of sympatholytic drugs (e.g. propranolol, phenoxybenzamine). This suggested consistent, though non-concurrent, neural pathways. Subjects did exhibit increased “openness”—that is, greater sustainability—of response during cartoon imagery. Priapic response in males during tickle stimulation of the foot increased twenty-two percent while viewing imagery of a popular cartoon duck, most strongly when said character was subject to explosive force and in particular if the duck’s bill was displaced or removed from the head altogether. Orgasmic initiation in females increased by ten percent while viewing imagery of a popular cartoon pig when said character wore spacesuits or ballet tutus (the binding referent). These results are correlative.

  —The study, in the absence of cumulative affect, turned to initiating a time curve, where it found an emergent pattern after four hours of stimulation. Stimulation density was consistent, but was paused at three-minute intervals for thirty seconds for recovery of synaptic pathways. Laughter response fell below basal levels after thirty minutes and dropped away altogether after one hour. At two hours, an inversion was noted, and laughter response continued to increase thereafter.

  —Photograph H shows a female subject at the four-hour mark of tickle response. Subject presents facial rigor, gritted teeth, and tears of laughter (note Study 10M8/42-2-14 “Spinal Cord Harmonies in Comparison to Violin String”). Response increased over the next three hours, peaking at the seven-hour mark. It remained at this plateau until the fifteenth hour when stimulation was halted due to lack of skin integrity of the foot.

  —It has been noted elsewhere that openness to cartoon imagery is consistent with response to human infant and baby animal physical features. This “primal face” response, which elicits nurturing, initiates in the presence of eyes twenty-five percent larger proportionately than those of adults, as well as diminutive limbs, large hands, and protuberant belly; and is consistent whether directed toward puppy, kitten, human infant, or baby chimpanzee, all of which have the same proportional measurements in the facial domain. Cartoon imagery is purposefully rendered with the same proportional measurement to induce the same open response. Said measurement is also found in Nazi propaganda posters and shows a seven percent increase in cartoons made during the Second World War.

  —Reaction to the “primal face” as an increase-operant of the laughter response was then taken into consideration. (Note the study conducted by Gelertner and Grimes regarding the homicide of newborns by their mothers shortly after birth, principally by strangulation or abandonment, entitled “Postpartum Depression As Excuse and Removal As Cause: The Murder Response to the Sudden Other”). Subjects who were shown slow-motion videotape of a running cheetah were more “open” at the four-hour emergent mark, which matched response to eye-gouging comedic skits featuring The Three Stooges.

  —Photograph K shows a male subject at the five-hour mark of tickle response during a cheetah footage test. The mouth is stretched wide and the tongue laid back in laughter response. The showing of the whites of the eyes is indicative of the onset of free-operant avoidance contingency in an effort to remove from comedic stimulation. The arms are tied behind the back. The foot is clamped at a point above the ankle.

  —Reaction to the “primal face” is correlative to reaction to the “laughter response face.” Subjects were shown a photograph of a theater audience. They were told the audience was viewing a comedic film and were asked to rate the comedic value of the film on the one to five Tortelli scale based on the audience’s facial reaction. Seventy-nine percent of males and seventy-two percent of females rated the comedic value at a four or greater. The fact that the audience was not watching a comedic film at all maintains the consistency of the study. (Note photographic archive of Nazi “Laughter Cabaret,” wherein each seat delivered mid-level electrical shock via anal probes during strategic “punchlines.”)

 
; —The study sought to develop a cartoon image to instill maximum “openness” to the tickle response by combining cheetah imagery with what is known of prehistoric predatory felines during the preHomo sapiens era. These animals employed two killing methodologies after chase and capture of their prey: suffocation and strangulation. The necessity of speed-operant body architecture precluded brute strength for the snapping of the neck (the modern cheetah is on an extinction vector due to its specialized killing modalities). During the time it takes for its prey to succumb, the belly and sides of the victim are open to the free-operant claws of the feline. These remain vulnerability zones today, as do the bottoms of the feet, which were exposed during pursuit.

  —The chase model—as seen in a parent chasing an infant, who is exhibiting laughter response whether the intention of the parent is punishment or play—is consistent. When cheetah modalities are taken into consideration, the tickle response, as developed in preHomo sapiens, is either a release of tension (the death referent) or a “play” response as practice for avoidance contingencies. Laughter per se, however, for the requirement of synaptic explanation, remained non-correlative at this point of the study—though indications of reaction to the Other, as in postpartum murder, were encouraging (one cannot tickle oneself).

  —A cartoon character was developed as an amalgam of feline imagery, dubbed “Fluffbucket.” It utilized the large eyes and “comic” hands and feet modalities noted above, resembling a pot-bellied leopard with floppy ears and mismatched spots (pattern-recognition referent to inconstant spotting in puppy and kitten pelts).

  —Photograph O shows female subject presented with “Fluffbucket” imagery during tickle stimulation at the nine-hour mark. Avoidance contingencies are highly marked. Arms are necessarily bound, and eyelids hooked open while saline solution was administered every fifteen seconds. The teeth are fully exposed. The subject is nude to facilitate access to several vulnerability zones, which were studied utilizing the “mechanical hand” modality.

  —The point at which the tickle response was developed in pre-Homo sapiens was concluded to match the vector at which said organisms—prodded by environmental stress factors, notably recession of the forests—came down from the trees to explore the open plains. It was at this point—threatened by feline killing methodology, and in concordance with more frequent locomotion on level ground and the necessity of height for vision—that the organism developed the locking knee joint, which allowed pre-Homo sapiens to walk fully upright, whereas previously mobilization occurred in a crouch position as seen in modern chimpanzees and monkeys. This split the paradigm. It allowed much greater mobility for exploration of the plains, but also incited the chase response in predatory felines.

  —Subjects were operated on to remove the kneecap and kneejoint. These were replaced with a non-locking metallic analog. A running track at a local university was utilized to further the study.

  —Photograph S shows the entire track. At the starting point is a female subject, in crouch position, in whom has been installed the non-locking knee joints. The subject was given a thirty-second head start.

  —Photograph T shows in the distance the subject “hobbling” in an effort to run, being unfamiliar with pre-Homo sapiens locomotion modalities.

  —Photograph U is taken shortly after the thirty-second mark. A researcher, dressed in a “Fluffbucket” costume, is running past the starting position. The costume is made from hypo-allergenic synthetic fur. Anatomical features match the proportions of “Fluffbucket” imagery developed in the lab. Eyes, paws, and belly are oversized. A “cute” angle to the tail was added along with “comic” fangs. The ears here are flopping.

  —Photograph V shows the track at the forty-second mark. The subject’s mouth is open in laughter response. The “play” modality has been invoked. It should be noted that the “Fluffbucket” costume also functions to render invalid foreknowledge of human interaction, as with the “mechanical hand” in the lab: the subject does not know who is in the costume.

  —Photograph W shows the subject approaching the curve of the track. “Fluffbucket” has grasped the subject’s left foot. Vulnerability vectors rise to the top of the scale (Achilles Heel referent).

  —Photograph X shows continuation of the chase along the curve of the track. “Fluffbucket” has released the subject, but is batting her on the side of the body, as seen in cheetah modalities. The “play” response is again noted.

  —Photograph Y shows the subject stumbling. “Fluffbucket” has grabbed the left side of the subject’s blouse.

  —Photograph Z. The subject is prone. “Fluffbucket” kneels above the subject, whose facial turgidity indicates laughter.

  —Photograph A1. “Fluffbucket” places the mouth of the costume mask over the subject’s face, initializing suffocation. The “paws” begin spontaneous stimulation of the subject’s belly.

  —Photograph A2. The skin of the belly is exposed.

  —Photograph A3. Blood has spattered the “Fluffbucket” costume.

  —The study concludes that concurrent with the “fight or flight” response, as seen in all predatory exercise, there exists a “fright and delight” initiative that cohabits neural pathways. Openness to the tickle response is concurrent with “primal face” response, whereas inversion of openness is noted in those said to be “non-ticklish.” Eighty-seven percent of mothers who commit postpartum murder are described by their families as “non-ticklish.” Tickle response testing may become mandatory for military recruits as prerequisite for induction into “special service.” The reader is referred to further discussion in the author’s paper “The Pleasure of Pain.”

  —Further study is highly recommended.

  Time for Me

  Barry Hoffman

  There are certain templates in imaginative fiction which have become fixtures, even classics. The “Twilight Zone” story is one of them, and we will fall prey to its deceptively simple constructs when it’s as well written and poignant as Barry Hoffman’s examination of a life punctuated by “quiet desperation.”

  “Okay, what do I do today?” James said aloud to himself staring down at a sheet of paper containing just two words. Lists. James had always made lists. There had been times he’d had so much to do that without his lists he would have been lost. He’d drawn a line through each chore as it was completed. He seldom got through all items on the list. There were just so many hours in the day. Yet, he felt a sense of satisfaction at all he’d accomplished. Those tasks he hadn’t gotten around to would go on the next day’s list.

  James had been retired for nine months now and he’d recently noted his lists had dwindled to a handful of items. There were bills to pay, to be sure, but not many and only twice a month. There was a food list for shopping. A short list and only once a week. Doctor and dental appointments had filled his lists for several months, yet like a rebuilt car other than a six month checkup his body no longer cried for attention.

  “What do I do today?” James asked again, aloud, then sighed.

  Unlike so many other days, today he knew.

  A teacher for forty-five years James had grudgingly retired at sixty-five. He had long ago lost his zeal for the profession, but the daily routine had appealed to him. Kids had changed. Their parents had changed, and not for the better he had told colleagues who nodded in agreement. And during the last years on the job he’d felt like a worker on an assembly line. He was to follow lessons in teacher manuals almost verbatim. The flexibility and creativity that had brought him so much joy was removed. Teach the test were now his marching orders.

  Each school was evaluated by results on State-mandated standardized tests. Any deviation from his lesson plans was frowned upon. Spontaneity was discouraged. Teach the test.

  His malaise had been building over time. And he had to admit there had been warning signs. In the last two years sometimes he found himself dozing at his desk while his students recited something from memory. He most definitely dozed at weekl
y faculty meetings. A colleague would poke him in the side when he began to nod off or snore. At first it had been once a meeting. Near the end he’d fallen asleep three, even four times during the hour. Recently he’d begun to forget student’s names when they returned from their Christmas or spring break. And his last year he had to admit he was operating on auto pilot, recycling the same lesson plans he’d used the year before.

  The proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back, though, had been when he’d left a student at the Franklin Institute on a class trip. He had no idea how it happened. Each student had a number. During a trip he’d line his students up no fewer than a dozen times and have them call out their numbers. Yet somehow when his class left the Institute Eddie what-was-his-last-name had been left behind. James wondered what had been worse: his lapse or the fact that none of the other thirty students had noticed Eddie’s absence on the twenty minute walk back to school.

  There had been no lasting damage, other than to his pride. Eddie, as James had instructed his students before each trip, had found a security guard. He had wandered off, for just a few moments, something having grabbed his attention. The Institute had called the school and the principal himself had driven to the museum to pick Eddie up. He had bought Eddie a slice of pizza and a soda. It had been a great adventure, Eddie had told his parents and the principal.

  James had called Eddie’s mother that night to make sure the ten-year-old was okay.

  “You’ve had three of my other children, Mr. Hennings,” Eddie’s mother had told James as he apologized profusely. “It wasn’t intentional. Shit happens. Don’t worry yourself.”

  “Still it was an unconscionable lapse—”

  “You and your big words, Mr. Hennings,” she had interrupted. She was a high school dropout and a waitress at a greasy spoon diner James had visited once. James had to laugh at himself for coming off sounding like a pompous ass. “No harm, no foul, as they say,” she’d added. “And Eddie has a wonderful story to tell. Please don’t blame yourself.”