David Wallace - Infinite jest

[308] = point of view.

[309] In the Chestnut Hills Shopping Center on Boylston/Rte. 9, which the E.T.A. A-squad staggers past several times a week, on runs — a chain, but a very top-shelf and fine one, and the Brookline Legal puts on a particularly fine marine spread, and the boniface seemed to know Dr. Incandenza and called him by name, and brought him a double bonded without being asked.

[310] Jargon: Film/Cartridge Studies.

[311] Trilateral North American immigration bureaucracy.

[312] Boston AA jargon. Y.E.T. is ‘You’re Eligible Too,’ a denial-buster for those who compare others’ ghastly consequences to their own so far, the point being to get you to see the street-guy with socks for gloves drinking Listerine at O7OOh. as just slightly farther down the same road you’re on, when you Come In. Or something close to that.

[313] The bureaucracy of Quebecois pensions, which had ruled against buying anything more than a used Kenbeck pacemaker for Marathe’s father, now deceased.

[314] See Note 304 supra.

[315] Marathe’s malentendu of live-in, 316. Like e.g. the times C.T. and the Moms would come out to Logan to pick Mario and Himself up from a filming trip, Mario lugging gear, Himself damp and pasty from the cabin pressure and not enough leg-room and his sportcoat pockets always clicking with little plastic bottles with unopenable caps, and in the car up to Enfield Mario’s uncle would keep up an Opheliac mad monologue of chatter that would get Himself’s poor teeth grinding so bad that when they pulled over to the breakdown lane and Mario came around to open the door and let Himself lean out and be ill there’d be grit in the throw-up that came out, white dental visible grit, from all the grinding.

[316]

[317] © B.S. 1981, Routledge & Kegan Paul Pic, London UK, wildly expensive hdcover; not on disk.

[318] Maine having been lost altogether, recall.

[319] Incandenza family idiom for leftovers.

[320] Main library, M.I.T., East Cambridge.

[321]Q.v. for a confirming example!93Oh. Thurs., 12 November Y.D.A.U., Rm. 204 Sub-dorm B:

‘No, look, it’s still Rise Over Run. The derivative’s the slope of the tangent at some point along the function. It doesn’t matter what point until they give you the point on the test.’

‘Will this even be on the Boards? Do they go past trig?’

‘This is fucking trig. They’ll give you word problems that may involve changing quantities — something accelerating, a voltage, inflation of O.N.A.N. currency over U.S. currency. Differentiation’ll save you half the time, all those triangles inside triangles to figure change with trig. Trig’s a Unit-bender on rate-changes. Derivatives’re just trig with some imagination. You imagine the points moving inexorably toward each other until for all practical purposes they’re the same point. The slope of a defined line becomes the slope of a tangent to one point.’

‘One point that’s in fact actually two points?’

‘You use your goddamn imagination, Inc, plus a couple prescribed limits. Which they won’t fuck with you on limits on the general test, trust me. This is a big pink titty compared to an Eschaton calculation. You move the two points you’re doing Rise-over-Run on infitesimally close together, you end up with a plug-in formula.’

‘Can I tell you about my dream now and then we’ll use the momentum from that to plow through this?’

‘Just write this on your wrist or something. Function x, exponent n, the derivative’s going to be nx + x n-1for any kind of first-order rate-of-increase thing they’re going to ask you. This assumes a definable limit, of course, which no way they’re going to fuck with you on limits on the fucking Boards.’

‘It was a DMZ-dream.’

‘Do you see how you’re going to apply this to a rate-of-increase-type little story they’ll pose?’

‘It involved your experimental soldier, the massive dose.’

‘Let me just close this door, here.’

‘It was the Leavenworth convict. The one you said had left the planet. The one belting out Ethel Merman. It was horrific, Mikey. In the dream I was the soldier.’

‘So you’re now going to assume a real you-know-what experience will be similar to the experience of a nightmare.’

‘Aha. Why nightmare? Why do you assume it was a nightmare? Did I use the word nightmare?’

‘You used the word horrific. I assume it wasn’t a romp through the heather.’

‘In the dream the horror was that I wasn’t really singing “There’s No Business Like Show Business.” I was really screaming for help. I was screaming like “Help! I’m screaming for help and everybody’s acting as if I’m singing Ethel Merman covers! It’s me! It’s me, screaming for help!” ‘

‘A Rusk-level dream, Inc. A standard nobody-understands-me dream. The DMZ and Mermanization were incidental.’

‘There was a quality of loneliness to it, though. Unlike anything. To be screaming that I’m screaming for help instead of singing a show-tune and to have the wardens and doctors gathered around snapping their fingers and tapping their feet.’

‘Have I mentioned DMZ doesn’t show up on a G.C./M.S.? Struck tracked this down off an obscure Digestive-Flora footnote. It’s the fitviavi-mold base. If the stuff shows up at all it shows as a slight case of unbalanced yeast.’

‘I thought only girls got yeast.’

‘Inc, don’t be so fucking naïve. Data number two is Struck is halfway toward nailing down that this stuff’s original intent was to induce what they called quote transcendent experiences in get this chronic alcoholics in the like 1960s at Verdun Protestant Hospital in Montreal.’

‘How come everywhere I turn this fall now everybody’s suddenly mentioning Quebec in all kinds of radically different contexts? Orin’s calling with some protracted obsession about anti-O.N.A.N. Québecers.’

‘… Tavis up and announces Quebec are the lambs in this year’s fundraiser. Your Mum’s from Quebec.’

‘And then this term of all terms I take Poutrincourt’s insurgency class, which is basically a Québecathon.’.

‘Oh I definitely I’d suspect some kind of conspiracy or trap. It’s obvious everything’s pointing toward getting you in a cell belting out Mermanalia. Inc, I think your hinges are starting to squeak. I think this is what plateaux-hopping up to the top does to somebody. I think a meaningful transcendent DMZ-type non-uremic-fallout interlude before Tucson is just what the carpenter ordered, for the old hinges. Keep you from going back to just smoking that Bob Hope day in day out when the test’s up. Shit’ll kill your lungs. Shit’ll make you fat, soft, moist and pale, Inc. Seen it happen. You need something more than a 30-day cleanout. The tu-sais-qué could be just the reconfiguration you need to start branching out, leave the Bob Hope alone, find something you can take to college or the Show and not get paralyzed. Shit’ll paralyze you over time, Incblob. Saw it happen time and over, back in the neighborhood. Once-promising stand-up guys spending their lives in front of the TP, eating Nutter Butters and whacking off into an old sock. The shit-fairy moves in with luggage for an extended stay, Inc. Plus indecisive? You haven’t seen indecisive til you’ve seen a guy with little fat-titties slumped in a chair in his tenth year of nonstop Bob Hope. It’s not pretty. Incster my friend it’s not pretty at all. A transcendent experience with me and the Axhandle could be just what the hinges are squeaking for. Be around some other people for a change. Don’t make me sit there with just Axhandle babbling about Yale. Leave the Visine at home.’

‘Was it transcendent? The term in Struck’s literature? Or was it transcendental?’

‘ ‘s the difference for Christ’s sake?’

‘Mike, what if I said I’ve been moving toward more than just a month off.’

‘Abandon All Hope. 3This what I was talking.’

‘I mean maybe make a decision. Forever. What if it was that I was doing it more and more and it was getting less fun but I was still doing it more and more, and the only way to moderate would be to like wave a hankie at it altogether.’

‘I applaud. Some low-risk transcendentalism with me and the Human Hatchet could be just the impotence for this kind of like major re—’

‘But it’d be everything. Blue Flames, the odd ‘drine. If I do anything I know I’d go back to the Bob. I’d drop Madame Psychosis with you guys and all my firmest resolve would melt and I’d have the one-hitter out and be sniveling at you to spring some eternal Hope on me.’

‘You’re so naïve, Inc. You’re so sharp in one way and such a little bald little fat-legged baby in the woods in others. You think you’re just going to go Here I go, deciding, and reverse total thrust and quit everything?’

‘What I said was what if.’

‘Hal, you are my friend, and I’ve been friends to you in ways you don’t even have a clue. So brace yourself for a growth-spurt. You want to quit because you’re starting to see you need it, and —’

‘That’s exactly it. Peems, think how horrible that’d be, if somebody needed it. Not just liked it a great great great deal. Needing it becomes a whole separate order of… It seems horrific. It seems like the difference between really loving something and being —’

‘Say the word, Inc.’

‘Because you know why? What if it’s true? The word. What if you are? So the answer’s just walk away? If you’re addicted you need it, Hallie, and if you need it what do you imagine happens if you just hoist the white flag and try to go on without it, without anything?’

‘You lose your mind, Inc. You die inside. What happens if you try and go without something the machine needs? Food, moisture, sleep, O 2? What happens to the machine? Think about it.’

‘You were just now applauding the idea of Abandoning All Hope. You were just invoking an image of me with breasts, masturbating into laundry, with cobwebs between my ass and a chair.’

‘That’s the Bob. I didn’t hear me say everything. If you need the Bob, Inc, you can only quit the Bob if you move onward and up to something else.’

‘Harder drugs. Just like those old filmstrips about pot opening the door to larger drugs, where Jiminy Cricket —’

‘Oh fuck you. It doesn’t have to be harder. It just has to be something. I know guys quit heroin, coke. How? They make the strategic move to a case a day of Coors. Or to methadone, whatever. I know hard-drinking guys Inc that got off the booze by switching to the Bob Hope. Me myself, you’ve seen, I switch all the time. The trick is the right switch for a man’s wiring. I’m saying a real cobweb-blaster with me and Axford after the Fundraiser could help you get some serious perspective, cut the babytalk and sweeping bullshit decisions there’s no way you can do and start getting a real handle on how you’re going to branch out away from this Bob thing, which I applaud the getting away from the Bob for you, Inc, it’s not your thing, you were starting to get that look of a guy that’ll end up with tits.’

‘So you’re in a very subtle way lobbying for a DMZ-drop by saying you don’t believe I could simply quit everything. Since you sure don’t plan to quit. With your left eye wobbling all over the place. You haven’t even quit the Tenuate. “Winners don’t ever have to quit” and all deLint’s little —’

‘I didn’t hear me say none of that. And I think you probably could quit it all. For a while. You’re not a pussy. You’ve got balls, I know. I bet you could gut it out.’