The Unknown: The Blue Line.
  W: Missouri, Iowa.

S: Missouri and Iowa, ah, before that? Back eight generations?

W: I think Scotch, and Ireland.

S: Scotland and Ireland. When your people first came to this country, did they conquer and slaughter Native Americans?


W: I don’t know. They probably—they probably did something more like—stand in long lines at Ellis Island, doing a lot of paperwork, being poor, and working in meatpacking plants.

S: Did they work in meatpacking plants?

W: I don’t know.

S: Did they ever grow potatoes?

W: Yes.

S: Did they ever make scotch?

W: Don’t know.

S: Or poteen. . . .

W: Maybe there’s a little Welsh.

S: Well, you’re pretty much Anglo, then.

W: Basically, yeah.

S: Well there’s nothing wrong with the English. I, for instance, think that your people buying Amoco, well that’s just fine. I mean sure this guy, the new owner’s sort of hung on rebuilding the British Empire by buying up all our gas reserves, and then recolonizing us and making us pay fealty to a Queen Mother. That’s fine. They write good poems.

W: Sorry, I’ve lost the thread.

S: Oh, I don’t know. It is a hypertext.

W: There’s a good place for some grass.

S: Right there on the abandoned El tracks?

W: It’s an excellent place. Never in shade.

S: Yeah, but they might want to put that train back.

W: Not after they see the grass.

S: That could be the train that goes straight to your door.

W: Kind of dangerous for the kids though, I guess, to plant it up there.

S: Yeah, but I think it’s good for the kids, in Chicago, to face a little danger. It, ah, builds character.

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The Unknown at Spineless Books.

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