Susie Mee (fiction)
When the men in Fully Five, the ad hoc singing group performing at the outdoor bandstand, take a break it’s in order to get a much-needed rest from the threatening clouds roiling overhead like boiling porridge. Instead they hum, or maybe chant–anything that might be considered ‘timed noise’ as Sailor puts it. He leads the way together with a few Crows from the old rock group who yearn to sing but no longer can, really, but no matter, the airwaves are already choked with similar cockeyed ambitions. Controlling them is the question, or better yet seeking another diversionary tactic, such as blowing the bubbles recently turned inside-out by some genius physicist creating colors so original they don’t yet have a name.
Also, for each new possibility, there must be an erasure of sorts so things don’t get overcrowded—this is called ‘forward looking foresight’ although it’s far more difficult than what the visionaries envisioned—too many people seeking penance from those who previously voted against them. For instance some are against tunnels, caves, crevasses despite the cultural nostalgia these places keep on generating. Some even dislike rain objecting to the trials that come from adjusting to its vagaries.
Perversely, the Fully Five favor rain over any other weather to be sung about, especially liking the purity of it without the clutter of thick fog and sleet; also they respect the way that water deepens resonance. ‘When rain is punched out in this way,’ Sailor says, ‘it becomes something that penetrates even the minor vacuoles though you’ll never know it unless you’re ready to open yourself up to the various nuances.’
And the Fully Five are ready, yes they are, hence their growing reputation for noteworthy subtlety. They have ‘snuck away from convention,’ says Sailor, almost in a whisper, dismissing English and Parisian rain as entirely clichéd, ‘and forget Venice, ‘ he continues, ‘which is all rain even when the sun is shining.’
Bosnian rain has a bit more potential but the territory must be frequently scanned; and did Dostoyevsky ever once mention rain in his religious novels? Of course the Fully Five are more scientific-minded than literary which is probably why their root beat is thought by the avant-garde to be so interesting and even ‘necessary’.
So far they have produced five songs about rain, including one in Finnish in which the words have yet to be translated. If you (out there) have any lyrical, compelling ideas (but not embarrassingly so), please send asap to firstname.lastname@example.org. Thank you.
by Susie Mee