The Indian Uprising

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    WE DEFEHE CITY as best we could. The arrows of the anches came in clouds. The war clubs of the anches clattered on the soft, yellow pavements. Th<figure></figure>ere were earthworks along the Boulevard Mark Clark and the hedges had been laced with sparkling wire. People were trying to uand. I spoke to Sylvia. &quot;Do you think this is a good life?&quot; The table held apples, books, long-playing records. She looked up. &quot;No.&quot;

    Patrols of paras and volunteers with armbands guarded the tall, flat buildings.<mark>藏书网</mark> We interrogated the captured awo of us forced his head back while another poured water into his nostrils. His body jerked, he choked a. Not believ?ing a hurried, careless, and exaggerated report of the number of casualties ier districts where trees, lamps, swans had been reduced to clear fields of fire we issued entreng tools to those who seemed trustworthy and turhe heavy-ons panies so that we could not be surprised from that dire. And I sat there getting drunker and drunker and more in love and more in love. We talked.

    &quot;Do you know Faures Dolly?&quot;

    &quot;Would that be Gabriel Faure?&quot;

    &quot;It would.&quot;

    &quot;Then I know it,&quot; she said. &quot;May I say that I play it at certain times, when I am sad, or happy, al?though it requires four hands.&quot;

    &quot;How is that managed?&quot;

    &quot;I accelerate,&quot; she said, &quot;ign the time signa?ture.&quot;

    And when they shot the se in the bed I won?dered how you felt uhe eyes of the camera?men, grips, juicers, men in the mixing booth: ex?cited? stimulated? And when they shot the se in the shower I sanded a hollow-core door w carefully against the illustrations is and whis?pered instrus from one who had already solved the problem. I had made after all other tables, one while living with Nancy, one while liv?ing with Alice, one while living with Eunice, one while living with Marianne.

    Red men in wa<bdi>９９ｌiｂ?</bdi>ves like people scattering in a square startled by something tragic or a sudden, loud noise accumulated against the barricades we had made of window dummies, silk, thoughtfully planned job descriptions (including scales for the orderly progress of other colors), wine in demi?johns, and robes. I analyzed the position of the barricade  me and found two ashtrays, ce?ramie dark brown and one dark brown with an e blur at the lip; a tin frying pan; two-litre bottles of red wihree-quarter-litre bottles of Black &amp; White, aquavit, ac, vodka, gin, Fad #6 sherry; a hollow-core door in birch veneer on black wrought-iron legs; a bla, red-e with faint blue stripes; a red pillow and a blue pillow; a woven straw wastebasket; two glass jars for flow?ers; corkscrews and  openers; two plates and two cups, ceramic, dark brown; a yellourple poster; a Yugoslavian carved flute, wood, dark brown; and other items. I decided I knew nothing.

    The hospitals dusted wounds with powders the worth of which was not quite established, other supplies having been exhausted early in the first day. I decided I knew nothing. Friends put me in touch with a Miss R., a teacher, unorthodox they said, excellent they said, successful with difficult cases, steel shutters on the windows made the house safe. I had just learned via an Iional Distress Coupon that Jane had beeen up by a dwarf in a bar on Tenerife but Miss R. did not allow me to speak of it. &quot;You know nothing,&quot; she said, &quot;you feel nothing, you are locked in a most savage and terrible ignorance, I despise you, my boy, mon cher, my heart. You may attend but you must not attend now, you must attend later, a day or a week or an hour, you are making me ill. . . .&quot; I nonevaluated these remarks as Korzybski in?structed. But it was difficult. Then they pulled ba a feihe river and we rushed into that sector with a reinforced battalion hastily formed among the Zouaves and cabdrivers. This unit was crushed iernoon of a day that began with spoons aers in hallways and under windows where men tasted the history of the heart, e-shaped muscular an that maintains circulation of the blood.

    But it is you I want now, here in the middle of this Uprising, with the streets yellow and threaten?ing, short, ugly lances with fur at the throat and inexplicable shell money lying in the grass. It is when I am with you that I am happiest, and it is for you that I am making this hollow-core door table with black wrought-iron legs. I held Sylvia by her bear-claw necklace. &quot;Call off your braves,&quot; I said. &quot;We have many years left to live.&quot; There was a sort of muck running iters, yellow?ish, filthy stream suggesting excrement, or nervous?ness, a city that does not know what it has doo deserve baldness, errors, iy. &quot;With luck you will survive until matins,&quot; Sylvia said. She ran off down the Rue Chester Nimitz, uttering shrill cries.

    Then it was learhat they had infiltrated hetto and that the people of the ghetto instead of resisting had joihe smooth, well-coorditack with zipguns, telegrams, lockets, causing that portion of the line held by the I.R.A. to swell and collapse. We sent more heroin into the ghetto, and hyaths,  another huhousand of the pale, delicate flowers. On the map we ?sidered the situation with its strung-out inhabitants and merely persoions. Our parts were blue and their parts were green. I showed the blue-and-green map to Sylvia. &quot;Your parts are green,&quot; I said. &quot;You gave me heroin first a year ago,&quot; Sylvia said. She ran off down Gee C. Marshall. Alice, utter?ing shrill cries. Miss R. pushed me into a large room painted white (jolting and dang in the soft light, and I was excited! and there were people watg!) in which there were two chairs. I sat in one chair and Miss R. sat iher. She wore a blue dress taining a red figure. There was noth?ing exceptional about her. I was disappointed by her plainness, by the bareness of the room, by the absence of books.

    The girls of my quarter wore long blue mufflers that reached to their knees. Sometimes the girls hid anches in their rooms, the blue mufflers to?gether in a room creating a great blue fog. Block opehe door. He was carrying ons, flow?ers, loaves of bread. And he was friendly, kihusiastic, so I related a little of the history of torture, reviewing the teical literature quoting the best modern sources, French, German, and Ameri, and pointing out the flies which had gathered in anticipation of some new, cool color.

    &quot;What is the situation?&quot; I asked.

    &quot;The situation is liquid,&quot; he said. &quot;We hold the south quarter and they hold the north quarter. The rest is silence.&quot;

    &quot;Ah?&quot;

    &quot;That girl is not in love with Keh,&quot; Block said frankly. &quot;She is in love with his coat. When she is not wearing it she is huddling u. Once I caught it going dowairs by itself. I looked inside. Sylvia.&quot;

    Once I caught Kehs coat going dowairs by itself but the coat was a trap and inside a anche who made a thrust with his short, ugly k my leg which buckled and tossed me over the balustrade through a window and into another situation. Not believing that your body brilliant as it was and your fat, liquid spirit distinguished and angry as it was were stable quantities to whie could return on wires more than owice, or another number of times I said: &quot;See the table?&quot;

    In Skinny Wainwright Square the forces of green and blue swayed and struggled. The referees ran out on the field trailing s. And then the blue part would be enlarged, the green diminished. Miss R. began to speak. &quot;A former king of Spain, a Bona?parte, lived for a time in Bordentown, New Jersey. But thats no good.&quot; She paused. &quot;The ardor aroused in men by the beauty of women  only be satisfied by God. That is very good (it is Valery) but it is not what I have to teach you, goat, muck, filth, heart of my heart.&quot; I showed the table to Nancy. &quot;See the table?&quot; She stuck out her tongue red as a cardinals hat. &quot;I made such a table once,&quot; Block said frankly. &quot;People all over America have made such tables. I doubt very much whether one  enter an Ameri home without finding at least one such table, or traces of its havihere, such as faded places in the carpet.&quot; And afterward in the garden the men of the 7th Cavalry played Gabrieli, Albinoni, Marcello, Vivaldi, Boccherini. I saw Sylvia. She wore a yellow ribbon, under a long blue muffler. &quot;Which side are you on,&quot; I cried, &quot;after all?&quot;

    &quot;The only form of discourse of which I approve,&quot; Miss R. said in her dry, tense voice, &quot;is the litany. I believe our masters and teachers as well as plain citizens should fihemselves to what  safely be said. Thus when I hear the words pewter, sea, Fad #6 sherry, serviette, feration, , blue ing from the mouth of some public official, or som<mark></mark>e raw youth, I am not disappointed. Vertical anization is also possible,&quot; Miss R. said, &quot;as in

    pewter

    snake

    tea

    Fad #6 sherry

    serviette

    feration

    blue.

    I run to liquids and colors,&quot; she said, &quot;but you, you may run to something else, my virgin, my darling, my thistle, my poppet, my own. Young people,&quot; Miss R. said, &quot;run to more and more unpleasant binations as they sehe nature of our so?ciety. Some people,&quot; Miss R.<cite>99lib?</cite> said, &quot;run to ceits or wisdom but I hold to the hard, brown, nutlike word. I might point out that there is enough aes?thetic excitemeo satisfy a a damned fool.&quot; I sat in solemn silence.

    Fire arrows lit my way to the post offi Patton Place where members of the Abraham Lin Brigade offered their last, exhausted letters, post?cards, dars. I opened a letter but inside was a anche flint arrolayed by Frank Wede -- kind in a gold  and gratulations. Your earring rattled against my spectacles when I leaned forward to touch the soft, ruined place where the hearing aid had been. &quot;Pack it in! Pack it in!&quot; I urged, but the men in charge of the Upris?ing refused to listen to reason or to uand that it was real and that our water supply had evapo?rated and that our credit was no longer what it had been, once.

    We attached wires to the testicles of the cap?tured anche. And I sat there getting drunker and drunker and more in love and more in love. Whehrew the switch he spoke. His name, he said, was Gustave Asbach. He was born at L--, a try town in the province of Silesia. He was the son of an upper official in the judicature, and his forebears had all been officers, judges, de?partmental funaries. . . And you ever touch a girl in the same way more than owice, or another number of times however muay wish to hold, , or otherwise fix her hand, or look, or some other quality, or i, known to you previously. In Swedetle Swedish children cheered when we managed nothing more remarkable thaing off a bus burdened with packages, bread and liver-paste and beer. We went to an old churd sat in the royal box. The anist ractig. And then into the grave?yard o the church. Here lies Anna Pedersen, a good woman. I threw a mushroom on the grave. The officer anding the garbage dump re?ported by radio that the garbage had begun to move.

    Jane! I heard via an Iional Distress Cou?pon that you were beaten up by a dwarf in a bar on Tenerife. That doesnt sound like you, Jane. Mostly you kick the dwarf in his little dwarf groin before he  get his teeth into your tasty and nice-looking leg, dont you, Jane? Your affair with Har?old is reprehensible, you know that, dont you, Jane? Harold is married to Nancy. And there is Paula to think about (Harolds kid), and Billy (Harolds other kid). I think your values are peculiar, Jarings of language extend in every di?re to bind the world into a rushing, ribald whole.

    And you ever return to felicities in the same way, the brilliant body, the distinguished spirit re?capitulating moments that occur owice, or another number of times in rebellions, or water. The rolling sensus of the aion smashed our inner defenses on three sides. Block was firing a greasegun from the upper floor of a building designed by Emery Roth &amp; Sons. &quot;See the table?&quot; &quot;Oh, pack it in with your bloody table!&quot; The city officials were tied to trees. Dusky war?riors padded with their forest tread into the mouth of the mayor. &quot;Who do you want to be?&quot; I asked Keh and he said he wao be Jean-Luc Godard but later when time permitted versa?tions in large, lighted rooms, whispering galleries with blad-white Spanish rugs and problematic sculpture on calm, red catafalques. The siess of the quarrel lay thi the bed. I touched your back, the white, raised scars.

    We killed a great many in the south suddenly with helicopters and rockets but we found that those we had killed were children and more came from the north and from the east and from other places where there are children preparing to live. &quot;Skin,&quot; Miss R. said softly in the white, yellow room. &quot;This is the Clemenittee. And would you remove your belt and shoelaces.&quot; I re?moved my belt and shoelaces and looked (rain shattering from a great height the prospects of silend clear,  rows of houses in the sub?divisions) into their savage black eyes, paint, feathers, beads.

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