Letters from the Johnny’s pub – Jagger

 

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The first chapters of Stars of dust: A gift for you

 

Bad feelings. I talked too much and when you expos, you're vulnerable. I designed this place for not having trouble. Negative vibrations are diseases that should be nipped in the bud to avoid proliferation: some influences take possession of your mind and this paralyses your body leaving you at the mercy of a threat that is only virtual. The succession of your acts, influenced by that state of tension, is such that those feared things actually happen in the end. Or, much simpler, I smoked too much and the alfalfa was not exactly free of hallucinogenic substances...

 

– Hello Sir.

– May I introduce myself?

– Oh, there's no need...

– I'm a polished man...

– I know well…

– Ok Johnny. Do you like playing with darkness?

– Oh no, I would never dare...

– And yet you did it, Johnny...

– Me? Never, I can swear...

– No, Johnny, don’t swear...

– If you're referring to the meeting with Mr. Richards...

– Keith is my brother, Johnny...

– Well, of course, I know...

– Oh, play with my fame, Johnny, what a misery: after what I did for you...

– Please: what have you done for me?

– I sing for you too, Johnny...

– Oh, well... this seems a bit speculative...

– Johnny, Johnny... how could you do that?

– Well, there must have been a misunderstanding, and yet, I apologize anyway...

– Johnny: don’t be so complaisant...

– I’m duly sorry...

– Look at me Johnny: straight in the eye!

– Oh... oh... uh... ooooo... uuuuh... uah... oh yeah...

– Do you like it, Johnny?

– Oh... Uh...

– Ok, Johnny. You see it? I'm taking advantage of you.

– Oh... oh... by Jove!

– You had your first lesson.

– Which lesson are you talking about?

– An intercourse starts from the head, Johnny.

– Uh... oh...

– Another bit, Johnny?

– Oh...

– No. That’s all. So you learn.

– Oh...

– Second lesson: I always decide, how and when; and how much. Ok?

– Ok.

– Do not forget.

– All right.

– Set up a table and bring me food, Johnny. I'm hungry bastard!

– Do you want to drink too?

– What do you think?

– Red ale?

– Red ale is fine... oh, what kind of place have I come to here?

 

I set the table up and serve him myself. He seems disappointed.

 

– Anyway, I want you to know, that I never played with your fame...

– Uh, no?

– No!

– And what did you say to Mr. Cheeta?

– What a son of a bitch! It was him who said you took his way of dancing...

– Good Johnny. Watch me.

 

He climbs on the ceiling beams like a real monkey, does all his monkey moves, takes a fake banana from the plastic fruit basket and then throws it at my face, claps his hands like a monkey, and then mumbles (and also sings) like a monkey. Finally it freezes. He stares into my eyes.

 

– Have you seen, Johnny? Do I look like a monkey?

– No!

– That's right, Johnny.

– In fact, in my opinion, it is the monkey who copied your way of dancing...

– Sure, Johnny. It's like that.

– Sure. No doubt about this.

– Good Johnny. You had your third lesson.

– Oh…what?

– It is the power of persuasion.

– What is that?

– Oh, let it be. Be a good boy and let me eat...

– All right.

– Hey, Johnny...

– Yes…

– You should stop smoking that junk... you smell like a mess!

– I'm sorry…

– I would appreciate some decency, when they serve me food…

 

POSTS FROM THE JOHNNY’S PUB

  1. Introduction
  2. Pete Townshend
  3. Keith Richards
  4. John Lee Hooker
  5. Janis Joplin
  6. Chuck Berry
  7. Patti Smith
  8. Syd Barret
  9. Debbie Harry
  10. Cheeta
  11. Mick Jagger
  12. Keith Richards, James Brown, John Belushi
  13. Stuart Sutcliffe
  14. Keith Richards 2
  15. Sgt. Pepper
  16. The diabetic guitarist
  17. Bob Marley
  18. Queen
  19. The quick tempered guitarist

CAGES ON GOOGLE

Are we really free or are we prisoners of ourselves? Reading the reflections of Omar Mumba, the protagonist of this story, we live recluse in our mental restrictions and we stay this way for much of our existence, learning to move in the narrow spaces of those same bars.

In every type of system, there proliferate contradictions that become traditions to be respected. The society in which we live has applied the norm that says we can be happy, even if the others are not: all you have to do is not to be among those others.

It is a simple equation, basically, yet Omar does not seem to learn. It keeps a singular pastime, if we can call it so: keeping inside a big envelope, all the letters coming from those structures and associations present in forgotten places, where every need is absolute. He reads them continuously, even when he is in the hotel where he works and for this reason, he is mocked by colleagues and superiors. The attitude towards the neighbour in difficulty makes him intransigent, but above all leaves him alone. His days pass between listening to U2 music and household chores, work and a recurrent accusation: who gets his boss’ flat tyre?