Parking Lot Monkeys: We feel so dirty. We hate ourselves. We blame Elliott Smith.
Elliott Smith: What did I do now?
Parking Lot Monkeys: It’s not what you did, it’s what you DIDN’T do, Elliott Smith. *SOBBB*
Elliott Smith: Okay, what did I NOT do now?
Parking Lot Monkeys: *SOBBB* Elliott, do something!
Zorax, Master of the Obvious: It’s another crappy Monday, and it’s Elliott Smith’s fault, again. I am very bored, so someone needs to wake Henry Stack Sullivan up and have him dance for our entertainment.
Henry Stack Sullivan: Tappity tappity tappity tap. Shuffly shuffly shuffle shuff. Tappity tappity tappity tap. (Big finish) Ka-tap, ka-tap, ka-top, ka-CHA!!
Wintermute: Over the weekend, Henry Stack Sullivan drove me crazy. I had the sweats and my mother was very worried for me. She put me in an ice bath and prayed to Saint Marie, her head wrapped in a black shawl like mi abuela for hours. But it was no use, me not even shaking from the cold water in the tub, staring straight up, hungry for blood. My hallucinations kept getting more and more intense until I jumped out of the tub, knocking my mom onto the floor and blasting out of the flat with no clothes. I found O’Brien at the Hollywood and jumped on his back, biting him, like eight times! Everyone was freaked out, but I must have looked mad scary, because no one, not even the bouncers, stopped me. I woke up back home, my bed soaking wet and the fever broken, O’Brien’s blood all over my face and pillow. So I know that was real, and with all that blood missing, that guy must be in the hospital or something. And I blame Elliott Smith.
O’Brien: I had a dream with Elliott Smith in it. Not anything sexual, so don’t get the wrong idea, but it was pretty weird because I only have dreams I remember once every few months. I was back at University of Buffalo following Elliott Smith around because I didn’t know where I was, and I was in a panic because classes ended that day and I didn’t have any of my work done. Not sure what strange psychological undertones this may imply.
Karellen: I had a similar dream, where Elliott Smith was painting my face with charcoal, preparing me for war with an army of robots.
Sigmund Freud: These dreams sound homoerotic. I’d look into this if I were you.
O’Brien: I knew you’d say my dream was homoerotic. It felt more like Elliott Smith was my leader, taking me out of a confused abyss of conference rooms and back to the Promised Land. With acoustic guitar.
Mustapha Mond: I was just talking to this hot mamasita in my building for about 15 minutes. And when I walked back to my apartment I noticed that my zipper was down the entire time. Now I feel like idiot. I blame Elliott Smith.
Hot Mamasita: So, like, I was like coming up the stairwell today and this posh older guy that lives in my building came up to me and, like, he just kept totally going on and on about stuff, and I was like “uh huh, uh huh” and trying to get away, and then, like, he kept following me and talking. So then I notice that he’s like totally got his zipper down, like he’s trying to flash me or something, and I was like “Ohmygawd, how gross” and stuff. Finally I got away from him. But now my day is like totally shot by how grotty that was. And, like, I like blame Elliott Smith and stuff.
Ossifa Tlinklitniktikutl In Nunavut, they have a word for people like Elliott Smith: “Tlatquiatluk”. It translates as “the net that catches the shit flowing in to river, when it’s not frozen.” Each Inuit settlement has its own Tlatquiatluk, who bravely carries blame for all that goes wrong in the community, making the rest of the community members feel better about themselves. It’s good to see Elliott Smith preserving such an important role in his homeland. Hopefully, he does not go Tiniktiniquit (Inuit word for “Mad like the mother seal after her cubs have been clubbed and skinned”), a common occurrence for longtime Tlatquiatluks.
Karellen: The freakin’ coffee jockey at the Dunkin’ Donuts put cream in my coffee when I ordered it black, and I didn’t realize it until I got to work. Now my whole day is shot. I’m getting too old for this crap, and I know who to blame for that, too! Where’s that damn Tlatquiatluk, Elliott Smith? I’m gonna give him HELL!!
Ossifa Tlinklitniktikutl: You can blame him for everything else, but you can’t blame the Tlatquiatluk for growing old. Growing old is a natural process. Nothing to do with me or my people’s traditions. Inuit age quickly. I am only 34 years old, and already am a grandfather. My people generally die of heart attacks right around time our last teeth fall out from chewing hides, about age 50. Not Tlatquiatluk’s fault. Just the Inuit way.
Karellen: Sorry, Ossifa T, I don’t buy that. From my way of thinking, it was an Inuit serpent who gave the apple to Eve. Your people are responsible for age, death, sickness and painful childbirth. That’s why The LORD sent you to the Arctic.
O’Brien: I wish I had “a people.”
Karellen: You do have a people, O’Brien. They are called “Those Who Serve Karellen With Pleasure.” Now bring me a cup of black coffee, and tell Elliott Smith that him and his type aren’t welcome here, especially on a Monday morning.
Parking Lot Monkeys: We’re sorry we brought that Tlatquiatluk up. It won’t happen again. Next time we hate ourselves, we’ll blame it on D. Boon. Maybe partying will help.
