read the beginning here
Bel Air house, video call
- You've been engaging in population control.
- I can't tolerate bosses.
- Stalin, before he became a mass murderer, was a gangster, a bank robber, and a poet. You remind me of him.
- I'll rob all their banks, I'll mass murder their poetry.
- What is their poetry?
- Thinking they are what they have, what they want. Their poetry is the mystery of exchanging what they define themselves by, their things, for what other people define themselves by. Every one of their deals, doubles and dissolves them. Every deal is a rebirth. I'm supposed to tolerate this worship of the mystery of exchange of selves and things. While they...
- Who are they, my little Stalina?
- The money owners, bribers of the government, those who write the rules of who can trade what and with who and who can cheat and who can't.
- You think you know the rules of their mystery?
- You taught me them.
- Indeed I did. What is the poetry of violence?
- Very good. Limit it to that. Stalin was the great manager of the mystery of exchange, taking everything away from millions, disposing of the useless bodies, and defining himself as the manager of all things. You are Jamie, not Stalin. I know you. I won't tolerate mystery from you.
- Yes, Professor.
- Go make a revolution.