Robert Smith
And lo, it came to pass that I had been off my medication for a season,
and half a season, and I remembered something the wise man Nietzche had
once said, to wit that in every generation, and in every country, the Pharisees
always crucify Christ. And it behooved me to suffer in similar fashion,
for the atonement of the sins of my countrymen and of the whole known world.
For I had chosen to partake of the cross.
In that time, I had gone up to the town of Ottawa to visit my parents, while
in a fine frenzy, and I found them quite perturbed to see me in such a state.
Now, my mother and father decided to watch television that afternoon, and
being found psychotic and waxing visionary, it occurred to me that the T.V.
set was an oracle, and could mirror the true likeness of things in the room;
and lo, it revealed to me that my mother's real name was Henrietta White,
and that she and my father were really German refugees, of the Nazi variety,
posing as French Canadians. And lo, I came to understand that I was really
adopted, and had to denounce these people to the Soviet authorities, for
the Soviets had taken over the land shortly before. So I wrote a letter
that evening to the Soviet embassy, denouncing my parents as Nazis. By that
time, my father was exasperated, and gave me the sum of four hundred dollars,
and told me to get out of their lives. And lo, I took the sum of monies
and dropped my letter into a mailbox just outside the building where my
parents lived. And I took a taxi to the bus station. On the way there, conscience
made a coward out of me, and I summoned the driver of the cab to return
forthwith to the mailbox, for I was indeed betraying my own flesh and blood.
Arriving at said mailbox, I turned it upside down, and behold, the mail
was strewn all over the sidewalk. And just at that moment, as I searched
for said letter, the police happened to drive by in their vehicle. And they
let me into said vehicle. Now, I was sitting in the back seat and imagining
that I could take a miniature spiritual toothbrush and erase the brainwashing
from the minds of the officers of the law. But they were not amused, and
lo, they took me down to the station, where I spent the night behind bars.
And in the morning, I was brought to the courthouse, whereupon I was scheduled
to make an appearance and testify in said court of the law.
Now, I knew I was in deep shit. So, upon being interviewed by a psychiatrist
before entering said court, and being asked my name, I said, "My name
is Archeon, and I am a demon from Mars!" And they remanded my court
appearance and transferred me to the Royal Ottawa Hospital, whereupon I
was interviewed by a second doctor. This time, I was pretending that I could
hide in various places, like on top of his eyelids, or behind the curtains
on the windows. And I waxed psychotic, and I told him in turn, "I know
you, you are a bunny rabbit from hell. We were in hell together, I know
youÖ" And it did not agree with him to hear about the place of
eternal perdition, and lo, he had me committed to a locked ward in the Royal
Ottawa Hospital.
Now, it came to pass that I was behind locked doors, with cameras watching
our every move, and I was interned for a month with a gentleman who had
raped and killed a sixteen year old girl, another gentleman who had shot
his wife and kids, and other persons of the same ilk. And lo, I was in there
for turning over a mailbox, and nevertheless charged with stealing federal
mail. (I was facing ten years.) So one evening, one of the inmates asked
me, "What are you in here for, Bob?" And lo, unlike my wont, I
exaggerated and replied, "Oh, I've killed hundreds of people, contracts
you know!" And the inmate replied in turn, "Yes, Chicago, I can
dig it. The windy city, yes!" And lo, the inmates left me alone for
a month. And meanwhile, the doctors were trying various drugs to cure me
medically, and I was bouncing off the walls.
Finally, my parents came to visit me, as well as a nun that I knew, Martha
Sheppard, and several other denizens of Ottawa, such as my sister and so
forth. And lo, I recognized some of them, and others I did not. And my lawyer
came to interview me, and concluded, unbeknownst to me, that I should plead
insane in court. Which I did, when my court date came up, and lo, I was
committed for life to Douglas Hospital in Montreal, and driven there by
ambulance.
Now, upon arriving at the Douglas, it behooved me to try to discharge mysef
after the space of one week. And I was told that I was under an LGO and
committed for life. But upon examining my chart, the psychiatrist noticed
that it read, and I quote, "Voluntary admission." There was a
mistake in my chart, and indeed, I could sign myself out of the psychiatric
institution! Robert Smith was a free man once again! Free to roam wild,
free to ride about and terrorize the countryside. Free to do mischief and
get into more trouble.
And lo, I was discharged on the seventh day of the month of April, 1984,
under the reign of Brian Mulroney, leader of Canada. And being exonerated
of my criminal offence, I roamed about as was my wont until my next hospitalization
and imprisonment, but that is another story.
And lo, it was a chilly day in April as I walked back from Verdun to Montreal,
ready to do battle with the Antichrist. And lo, my parents worried some
more.
January 21, 1999