"There is nothing mythical left! Nothing to look up to! Don't you understand? American youth needs its heroes! It needs its religion! And I tell you, I tell you, what I'm thinking of can become just that."
"So you find God through death? That just doesn't make any sense to me. What about a message of love and life and happiness?"
"It doesn't work. You have to somehow tie your message with death, or it is not effective. My plan does exactly that; it makes it romantic to die."
"You're on drugs."
"That's the whole thing. I'm not. I'm not talking about drugs. Who
needs them when you can get such a stronger rush from brushing close to
your own death? Doing it for real instead of slow poisoning seems much
more natural."
"I hope you're kidding. I don't want to think I'm out tonight with a complete psycho."
"Close. Insanity is only one step above pure genius."
"Geez! Would you quit? Can't we talk about something else? How is your quail?"
"Dead."
"Very funny."
"Sorry."
"Don't you know that someone who talks about death all the time is just screaming for attention, reaching out in a desperate attempt to show that they are alive?"
"Yes! That's part of what I'm trying to do, but I'm doing
it a bit differently. I believe one can find life through death.
Doesn't everyone seek their immortality? Making suicide cool and
strange and competitive would allow everyone to control their
last moment on earth in a way that might be remembered forever."
"I don't think I want to compete."
"Why not? It will make us gods, for that's what gods are:
memory. The memory of the human race. Immortality. Too bad
"How will it make you a god if you're dead?"
"Don't you get it? Dying, in the most graphic, extravagant
way possible, insures that you are remembered by future generations.
Your tale will grow and grow until your final act becomes part
of humanity's mythic consciousness, part of everyone's ideology
and being."
"Yeah, right."
"You'll see."
"No, I won't. I'm leaving. You can have my desert.
I really don't have the stomach to deal with someone with a serious
case of death dementia."
"Hold on a second . . . it's more than that. I can show you
. . . come with me, and I'll show you what I mean!"
"No thanks."
de Soto didn't see it."
