V O L U M E

F I V E

Carrying her cell phone and talking to a boy from school she sometimes dated when her parents were gone, Dreem ran out to the car, swung down the driveway of her parent’s home in Bellwood Manor outside Dallas in suburban Irving, and stopped a couple times in the neighborhood to pick up friends an a black in the latest ZZ.com skully and do-rags she didn’t even know that came with one friend of hers--and they made it in good time to the stadium. The ultra- tribal venue swallowed Dreem and her friends together with crowds streaming in from the parking lots. They found their seats and sat down. Friends were talking on their cellphones to boyfriends, who were supposed to come over once they got there, but who were busy for some reason, getting what they needed out at the gates. In Dreem’s plan it was supposed to be a first year reunion of recent graduations of Bellwood H.S, plus a party, at least that was the idea. But that would wait for after the concert. They were also celebrating Dreem’s birthday. She was eighteen, a late-bloomer in her class-- only one sexual experience, no pregnancies, no abortions as yet...but tuned in to the right things, just the same as all her classmates: global peace, Tibet, love, and beginner’s drugs. Dallas’s biggest outdoor stadium was packed to capacity with 65,000 tribal fans of the marcyz boyz and their Fortune 500 dot.com businesses, rapping for their benefit classic “retrospective” 1990s-era hip-hop concert “Liberation of Tibet.” It was a June day, warm, bright, sunny day, with not a cloud in sight to mar a venue that appeared perfect for the superstar rap band that drove Bentleys. Fans had paid as much as $450-$500 for a scalped ticket to get in at the last minute. No one who was anybody, or who cared for the Chinese-challenged Tibetanese far-off in their yak-milk drinking, sky-high mountain nation, wanted to miss one of the greatest concerts of the rap season. As the fans poured in and took every available seat, all the signs promised luv heat and the marcz boyz would have to be stoned dead to tank out on this much enthusiasm. Shirts peeled off by the thousands, it was beginning to look like yet another Woodstock revival, thanks to the weather. Grass came out, then all the drugs known to man, as well as booze for the traditionists. Coke and crack, too, had already arrived in the veins of too many to count, with more available at every gate for those who found themselves in need of a fix of anything their hearts desired. Looking over the crowd, this wasn’t an oppressed ghetto citizenry, most of whom lived far off in “projects” such as Marcy in New York, East Coast housing projects for the poor, and couldn’t pay the price to get in to concerts like these that capitalized on youth stuffed with their parents' money. Yhese were mostly all suburban white middle class kids and young adults, who only came downtown for all-night raves and drugs like Extasy, the clothes shops, concerts, and, of course, abortion services. A constituency of the global peace movement led by celebrities such as luv heat and his marcyz boys, MJ, and others, true believers in a democracy that set no limits whatsoever on anybody--as long as it all came well laced with drugs, sex, and booze--that was what they had come to cheer and support. If they heard any music and lyrics over the dancing and screaming crowd, well, that was fine too. Then came one small cloud--moving, if anyone noticed, against the wind. Not much of a cloud to make anyone notice it much. It stopped over the open-air stadium.. Invisible streamers, positively charged, shot up from various people in the crowd toward the cloud. Negatively charged leaders snaked down from the cloud, taking only a second to connect with one of the streamers, one that led directly from the head of the cool birthday girl from Bellwood Manor.

I said, get an abortion at the clinic the teacher told us about! said the hunk to Dreem’s girl-friend on her right. Maybe I will, but I got to think about it first. It’s my body! the girl shot back. In front of them a row or two: Hey, f---k you! (somebody’s mocha espresso had splashed someone else’s neck) Feels good, this sun. When are they going to start this gig? Mom, Dreem here, got to town fine. Don’t worry. I won’t let anybody else drive. I promise! You don’t think I’d let anybody else drive my new car you just got me. No way! Okay. Okay. See you--yes, I will be back by two. No later. Love you, Mom. And thanks. This is a great birthday. Don’t bother about a cake. I’m going vegetarian like my friends. And say high to dad when he gets home if you see him by then. Okay. Bye. Get an abortion, we don’t want it! You want a relationship with me, don’t you? There’s plenty other girls I can have. So make up your mind. Shut up. I make my own decisions. Okay, babe, but just do the right thing for us. I’m not paying any child support, and I’m not anybody’s daddy. Got that? Yes, I got that. Now shut up. I wanna hear the band. Hey, f---kers! We love ya! Hey you, get off my f---king seat. I paid for it. Screw you too! Well, move over, or you’re dead. Peace and love. That’s why we’re all here. Pink Clouds. Cotton Candy Clouds. Cotton candy clouds forever. We’ll never die, nobody will ever die again, not in this warm bright cloud. It’s coloring the whole world pink and gold, and violet and...don’t know why it’s turning to--I see those devils again. They speaking to me again! Shut up! Shut up! I got to throw up. I got to find a place to throw up! Help me! Hey, what’s she doing? Disgusting! Get her outta here! Hey, call a security guard. Get her out, she’s puking over everybody! Yeah, she’s really sick. Something she ate, I guess. Good, they’re taking her out. Great day! man, the rappin is really good. Everybody is here I know. I mean, everybody! Waving. Waving. Waving back. Hi, guys! Peace sign, a dozen or so. A couple f-yous and the upturned thumb of victory just to be funny. My friends are so funny. Great group down from our school today. We gotta do this more often. Hey, get your hand off me. Not here. I wanna hear the music. That lead rapper, luv heat--what a hustler! I got all his CD’s. The whole luv heater series, “killin cops rap,” “rapin n killin mommas rap,” “killin honkey teachers n cops rap.” That’s why I came, not for you to mess with me in front of everybody. So get lost, won’t you? Okay, you can do that, but no more. I mean it. Beep. Hello. You again, Mom? What? I can’t hear so good. This crowd is really having a good time. No, I don’t know what they’re playing. It doesn’t matter anyway. I can hear the music. That’s enough. We’re having a great time. You needn’t worry about me. I’m your grown-up daughter now, graduated! Remember that, Mom. I’m not your little girl anymore. I have my rights to do what I like. Even go to raves and dance the Freak whenever I feel like it. Accept the fact. So just don’t--what? what? You think something could go wrong here with me? You have this feeling? Now you’re strange, Mom! Real strange! It couldn’t be nicer. You should see this sunshine. Hey, I can’t talk with you the whole time I’m here. Why come? I’ll call you later, okay? Maybe after the concert, when we’re heading back from wherever we go after this! Yes, I won’t sleep with any boys I don’t know! Yes, I know. Its my reproductive right and we need to practice safe sex. Planned Parenthood told us all about that, so you needn’t lecture me. I promise. Well, if you must know, that was an accident, pure and simple. He didn’t have any condoms with him because he skipped the class when they were giving them out, and his parents not getting home in time to give him his allowance so he could go buy some. You know that. This is ancient history! Why drag it up? How did I know he was going to show up at our slumber party? He was so cute and sweet with his grunge orange and green hair too, and... Nobody told me they were going to pull a joke like that, inviting a boy! Besides, I didn’t get pregnant or even herpes, did I? I don’t even remember it, so I’m as good as a virgin! So bye. I’ll be just fine. We’ll go for some pizza afterwards and talk about school days, then drive home. No, I won’t be drinking any hard stuff! I hate the stuff, you know that! Mom, you’re going to make me start screaming! Besides, I’m missing the whole concert. Let me go! One more call, and I’ll complain to Ms. Farley who represents the ACLU at school and tell her you’ve been harassing me again! That’s breaking the law, you know! For the last time, get serious. I am going. Bye!

On a luvheat.com digitized screens flanking the skull-decorated stage and special filters screening out most of their wrinkles, the head Rapper with the other boyz hip hopping on either side in luvheat dot com designer do-rags and skully caps ignited cheers from the crowd as they recognized the first song from the “killin mommas rap” CD:

…hey, .momma, I wanna kill you underwater in my pool of luv! you good momma, oh its real cool, cool, cool! I said let me slit your throat, momma, easy and cool, cuz a man’s gotta right to do some killin’ with his luv heater... (luv heat grabs his baggy pants in front and the crowd goes wild)

Chorus of the boyz: Oh, momma, sweet little momma, yeah, momma, My Luv heater kills you dead, little momma, after its done with ya... (screams in the packed stadium, even more dancing frenzy, and the marcyz boyz ramp up the beat a notch or two)

.... dead, dead, dead! I said dead is cool, and I mean the word, cuz a man’s gotta luv somebody, don’t he? So kill your momma, go kill your momma cuz she wants it, she wants a bullet, she wants a knife, she wants to o.d. real bad on your luv heater!

oh brothers and sisters... don’t we look so cool? don’t we feel so cool? So be free in this luv heater america, be free in luv heater Tibet, be free all over this Luv heater world! be free! be free, luv and kill and be free..until you’re dead and cool and shoved under six feet of pepsi cans, brothers and sisters! Then you’ll be ... dead, dead, dead! And so cool, cool, cool! (Fading to a Crescendo of obscenity-sprinkled Crowd Noise).