Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 37: Line 31 (613)

 Women in intimidating hats glared at him with revulsion.

* * * * * * * * * *

Even the guy who sang that song about how much the Grinch sucked didn't go on this long! And he really let that jerk have it.

I suppose the point isn't what Lew did. I think the point is that anybody can lose their reputation as long as a certain amount of people will buy into it. It's like that episode of Black Mirror where the main character's social media rating tanks in one crappy day and pretty soon everybody thinks they're the worst person in the world. Lew either did something so incredibly shitty he deserves to be an outcast or he simply pissed off the wrong person with all the right contacts.

But how all of this answers the question about how he became a detective, I don't know! Maybe it's common knowledge that detectives become detectives because they're unsavory, unlikable jerks? I hope I don't have to have any knowledge of noir pop culture because I don't have any.

"Women in intimidating hats"
I can only imagine this means big, ornate hats with loads of feathers and other dingle-boppers. I doubt it means hats with spikes and cleavers hanging from the rim.

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 37: Line 30 (612)

 Newsboys made up lurid headlines about him, which they shouted all through the civic mobilities morning and evening, making a point of pronouncing his name disrespectfully.

* * * * * * * * * *

How does somebody become such a pariah?! Fucking newsboys. The Twitter of 1893. These newsboys just invented the clickbait!

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 37: Line 29 (611)

 He was denounced in the local newspapers.

* * * * * * * * * *

Who hasn't been?!

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 37: Line 28 (610)

 Those who did claim to remember, all too well, kept giving him sad looks which soon—it being Illinois—soured into what was known as moral horror.

* * * * * * * * * *

What is it about Illinois that turns "sad looks" into "moral horror"? Is this one of the reasons the area is known as The Bible Belt? I grew up in California where if we remembered somebody's sin, we'd probably invite them to our next party. I don't believe I ever encountered "moral horror" growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area in the 1970s. Oh, but the 1980s changed that. Thanks a lot, Reagan and your demonizing of those infected with HIV and AIDS. But that was less a "moral horror" originating in the Bay Area and more of an American moral horror targeted at our national neighborhood.

"moral horror"
This phrase just intrigues me all the more! What sin did Lew Basnight commit?! Is this what's called a "plot hook"?! Or am I just being titillated by small town gossip?! Either way, I'm all atwitter! 

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 37: Line 27 (609)

 Those who didn't know either still acted puzzled, as if he were sending out rays of iniquity.

* * * * * * * * * *

Does he mean those who didn't know the sin but knew Lew was supposed to have sinned? Or does he mean those who don't know at all still act as if Lew is some immoral turdish tongue juggler like Brigadier General Pudding?
    I'm just going to assume it's people who know he's supposed to have sinned but don't know what his sin is still treat him as a terrible influence and a gentleman to be avoided. Which was puzzling to them because they couldn't say why he seemed like such a devout pervert. But better to be safe than sorry, especially in the Victorian era. If somebody said Lew committed some unforgivable sin then he's best to be avoided and also looked at as if he just cupped his butthole, farted into it, and shove it in his mouth.

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 37: Line 26 (608)

 Lew couldn't remember what he'd done, or hadn't done, or even when.

* * * * * * * * * *

Pshaw. Some detective!

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 37: Line 25 (607)

 As to the specifics of this lapse, well, good luck.

* * * * * * * * * *

What?! How dare you, Thomas Pynchon! Finally a hint at an adult revelation and you give us the old "Well, you're not going to hear it from me, you horny goat!" First you have the kids pass by a Reindeer Show, then you have Chick and Darby go backstage at a hoochie coochie show but only off-panel and now you hint at some committed sin and refuse to describe it! I'm getting pretty sick of you not titillating me!

I mean, Gravity's Rainbow had boners blasting off higgledy-piggledy and smashing vaginal craters all over London not to mention that disgusting stuff Pudding was into! So I pick up Against the Day thinking, "Pynchon loves sexual metaphor! This is going to be great!" And then it's all Boy's Adventure Novel shenanigans!

I haven't been this blue-balled since reading The Everlasting Story of Nory by Nicholson Baker!

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 37: Line 24 (606)

 He had just sort of wandered into it, by way of a sin he was supposed once to have committed.

* * * * * * * * * *

Oh! Do tell!

This is a crazy sentence about Lew's agency. He's now a detective because he "sort of wandered into it." So he didn't want to be a detective. But he accidentally became one. And how? By way of a sin! Sinning is definitely something you do with agency! Otherwise it's not a sin. You can't sin if you play no active part or bear no intent. So he didn't really "sort of wander" into it, did he? But wait! There's more! The sin is a sin "he was supposed once to have committed." So he didn't sin! It was a misunderstanding. Meaning Lew's loss of agency is doubly redoubled. He's just a big old victim of circumstance and his life is, apparently, wildly out of control!

Now let's get to the sin! Ooh la la!

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 37: Line 23 (605)

 He was not in the detective business out of political belief.

* * * * * * * * * *

Well what do you know! An independent detective! Lew ain't no stinkin' Pinkerton, I guess! Although how non-political can a detective really be? It's not like poor people can afford to hire a detective to bust some corrupt cops or some robber baron! So the job is inherently political! Lew is only going to take the jobs of people who can pay him which means he's in the pocket of the rich and powerful. Like right now! Whether he knows it or not, he's working to bust unionizers (i.e. Anarchists).

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 37: Line 22 (604)

 Fine with Lew, who wasn't even sure what Anarchists were, exactly, though the word was sure in the air.

* * * * * * * * * *

Lew wasn't the only one at the time who wasn't entirely sure what an Anarchist was. It's like how people in the 21st century don't exactly know what a Socialist is. It's just a word that's in the air to mean "anybody who needs to be scapegoated by the rich and powerful in a way that turns the general populace against them." So right now, in 1893, a lot of immigrants and unionizers are being labeled as Anarchists. If some worker is causing trouble, they're an Anarchist and that's pretty much the end of the definition.

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 37: Line 21 (603)

 "Good!" declared Chick Counterfly, "at least we won't have to get on to the Anarchist question."

* * * * * * * * * *

I don't know what "the Anarchist question" is nor why Chick brings it up. Do the Chums question every guest of the Inconvenience to make sure they're not dangerous Anarchists who might blow up the balloon (in a bad way and not in the getting it to float way)? And if so, does answering that you mostly read the sports page mean you can't be an Anarchist? That seems logical to me for some reason that I can't explain. Like I've known people who are really into sports and they just don't ever seem to be the kind of chaotic people you'd expect to be an Anarchist. Unless the sport they're into is Demolition Derby and their surname is Malachi. Then you'd better watch out!

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 37: Line 20 (602)

 "I guess I read the sports pages mostly."

* * * * * * * * * *

They had sports pages in the 1880s? What sports existed? I guess baseball since we saw the kids already had baseball bats. And probably football since there was that episode of Little House on the Prairie where Albert has a coach that would rather see his players die than lose. Of course football was terrible back then because nobody had invented the forward pass yet and every play was just "Run right into the other guys as hard as you can!" Soccer definitely existed and golf too. Basketball had just been invented so I doubt Lew would have been reading about that when he was younger. I bet the majority of the sports page was just boxing and horse races. Oh, and how many people died during each football game.

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 37: Line 19 (601)

 "Although the longer a fellow's name has been in the magazines, the harder it is to tell fiction from non-fiction."

* * * * * * * * * *

Okay, maybe Randolph does understand the ambiguity of comparing the Chums to Wyatt Earp.

I'm sure Pynchon loved the idea of suggesting the difficulty of telling fiction from non-fiction since he puts so much effort into the historical accuracy of his books while also seeding them with wildly unbelievable scenes and confusing but imaginative flights of fancy. Just think about Byron the Bulb in Gravity's Rainbow! Nobody's going to mistake that for non-fiction but it's the kind of whimsical strangeness that he loves to sprinkle into texts full of painstakingly accurate details. So you know Pynchon will vacillate wildly from one extreme to the other so that when you're reading a bit that sounds historically accurate, you can't know for sure that it's not. Or what about that scene in Gravity's Rainbow where Slothrop is being cajoled into eating all the wine jellies and it's so funny that you figure it's all got to be made up but then you accidentally find an old advertisement on the Internet for a Meggezone and your head explodes and you decide, "I'm just going to believe everything Pynchon writes is true until somebody disproves it for me."

So right now, I believe young lads flew around the world in airships, dogs could talk and read, and Laszlo Jamf once conditioned a baby to get unprovoked boners. Which, while obviously being silly in a shocking way, is based on the Pavlovian "Little Albert" experiment by John Watson and Rosalie Rayner in which they conditioned a small child to be afraid of small animals. Famously in this experiment, like in Slothrop's case, Little Albert was never deconditioned, let alone brought back to "beyond the zero."

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 37: Line 18 (600)

 "No more than Wyatt Earp or Nellie Bly," Randolph supposed.

* * * * * * * * * *

Wyatt Earp and Nellie Bly are famously regarded as real people and not storybook characters.

"Wyatt Earp"
The mention of Wyatt Earp is probably meant to tie in to the picture of Doc Holliday in Nate Privett's office. But he's also a living person made famous by his exploits hunting down the Cowboys in Tombstone, Arizona. Unbeknownst to Randolph, he's a nicely ambiguous choice for modern readers because what we know of Wyatt Earp is almost certainly highly fictionalized from Hollywood movies. So Randolph isn't exactly clearing up the question as to whether the Chums are storybook characters or not.

"Nellie Bly"
Randolph probably chooses to compare the Chums of Chance to Nellie Bly because of her trip around the world, alone, in 72 days. Not that she was alone the whole way, steering empty steam ships and acting as the conductor on international trains! She just wasn't chaperoned and didn't have any friends. It was quite sad.
    Nellie Bly also infiltrated an insane asylum, inventing gonzo journalism. Unless she just invented investigative journalism. Maybe if she'd done more drugs and had more sex while in the asylum, she could have invented gonzo journalism.

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 37: Lines 14-17 (596-599)

 "Wild West, African explorers, the usual adventure stuff. But you boys—you're not storybook characters." He had a thought. "Are you?"

* * * * * * * * * *

Thanks for asking at least one tough question, Lew! Here are some others you might consider: What are these kids?! Who's publishing their stories?! How do they have a dog that can read, talk (incomprehensibly to most but the Chums seem to understand him), and loves to fight?! Where are their parents? Does Randolph St. Cosmo think I'm cute? What organization do they work for that basically operates under the "Prime Directive" from Star Trek?

Obviously we, the readers, know they're storybook characters. Even Lew is a storybook character so it's odd that he's asking other storybook characters if they're storybook characters. It's like when I'm in a dream and I ask another person in the dream if they're a dream but, even in the dream, I still hold onto the belief that I'm real. It's also like when I'm not in a dream and I ask another person if they're a dream while I'm still holding onto the belief that I'm real.

I am real. Aren't I?

"He had a thought. 'Are you?'"
How insane does Lew Basnight have to be to seriously think these kids are storybook characters? I mean they are storybook characters so I guess Lew is actually having a major epiphany here and isn't insane at all. He's the only one suddenly seeing clearly! But if I suspend my disbelief and try to forget that this is a storybook I'm reading then Lew totally seems to have lost his mind, right?

I'm so confused.

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 37: Line 13 (595)

 Lew obligingly tried to remember.

* * * * * * * * * *

Lew's old enough to have a hard time remembering what books he read as a youth. How long have the Chums of Chance been around?! That's a rhetorical question because I know the answer is "eternity," what with being angels and all.

* * * * * * * * * *

Postscript: We'll find out later that Lew has a bit of an issue with his memories. The version of me that's on Page 48 of the book is writing this so we might find out, eventually, what that's all about. My main theory is that he somehow slipped from one timeline to this one. And the timeline Lew came from is the real version of this book's storybook version. So he's, in some way, more real than the other characters.

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 36: Lines 11-12 (593-594)

 "But every boy knows the Chums of Chance," declared Lindsay Noseworth perplexedly. "What could you've been reading, as a youth?"

* * * * * * * * * *

Either Lew is pretty near the same age as the Chums of Chance or Lindsay has just declared the Chums of Chance are either a long standing club with rotating members or the Chums of Chance have always been the current roster, for years and years, because they're either ghosts or angels. You know which one I believe! Although maybe you don't if you haven't been reading my hundreds of blog posts on this book. I believe they're angels! And not just any angels! Randolph St. Cosmo, the captain, is the embodiment of Orc from William Blake's America a Prophecy.

I guess we're also learning that the Chums of Chance books were huge nationwide hits that every American boy proudly read (and every American girl secretly). And that means Lew Basnight isn't American! Or if he is American, he isn't cool and if he's not cool, he isn't American! Or he's from a different dimension which is my favorite theory which I'll definitely have you believing once we get to the Lew Basnight section.

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 36: Line 10 (592)

 Lew Basnight seemed a sociable enough young man, though it soon became obvious that he had not, until now, so much as heard of the Chums of Chance.

* * * * * * * * * *

If you're hanging out with the Chums of Chance and they realize you don't know who they are, the best they can describe you as is "sociable enough." That's more forgiving than how I'd think of him if he hadn't heard of Grunion Guy. I mean, how can you not have heard of Grunion Guy? The author of "A Really Scary Story" which was once read, by Daniel Justice, before a large crowd of science fiction nerds that included Connie Willis?

Speaking of Daniel, I'll be playing in a Zoom D&D campaign that he's Dungeon Mastering soon (if it doesn't all fall apart). I'm going to be playing my Dryad Paladin named Preterite Chastain. I'm super nervous since I haven't played D&D for years and I've never played in a game that wasn't just all of my long time high school friends! What if I embarrass myself by making Preterite too sexy?!

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 36: Lines 8-9 (590-591)

 "Broke these in on the Ferris wheel," he said, "but couldn't figure out how to compensate for the movement. Gets blurry and so forth."

* * * * * * * * * *

"Ferris wheel"
The Ferris wheel was introduced at the Chicago World's Fair. Apparently it wasn't the first "sit on a wheel and go up in the air" amusement ride. But it was inarguably something completely different based on the size and scale.

The Chicago World's Fair Ferris wheel was 264 feet high. Each compartment could hold up to sixty people. And the ride took 10-20 minutes. I don't know why there's such a huge difference in the estimated time for a ride! Did the wheel have different settings to speed it up or slow it down depending on how many people were waiting to spend their fifty cents on it? Apparently, according to Lew here (the "spotter"), it moved fast enough so that his telescope constantly lost focus of the area he was observing. It's sort of the same principle as to why you can't write an accurate book about the entire 19th century. You have to focus on a smaller area and then spend 1000 pages detailing what you see. Because the movement of history makes things blurry and so forth.

"couldn't figure out how to compensate for the movement"
Imagine all the people who read this line and just move quickly past it. Imagine how blurry the entire text becomes when the reader moves past every line at the same speed. How do you compensate for that as an author?! You probably begin your novel with the line, "Now single up all lines!"
    That wasn't what I was going to say about this. I really wanted to talk about movement and telescopes. I had a backyard telescope that I used often in my late teens and early twenties. It was powerful enough to see some of the moons of Jupiter (as dots and shadows on the planet! Not in great detail!). I wasn't on a Ferris wheel but I, too, had to compensate for movement of the Earth (but not for focus, of course. You know how Lew could have compensated for movement that wouldn't have caused what he was looking at to go blurry? Look out of the side window of the Ferris wheel and not the window that aligns with the wheel's movement!). The telescope had a flexible tube sticking out of it with a dial on it that you would twist as you were observing some far off celestial object so that it wouldn't disappear from your view as the Earth rotated. It's hard to keep something so far away in such a small frame!
    The difficulty of observation in these cases is that both the observer and the observed are in constant motion. History can be viewed in the same way if we realize that our beliefs and attitudes, ethics and moralities, change drastically across time. So a historian of the 1890s writing in the 1940s would come to drastically different conclusions because their focus would be completely different. And the further we get away from the 1890s in time, the less detail we can make out. But we're also observing it with totally different instruments (i.e. our modern perceptions).

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 36: Line 7 (589)

 The "spotter" from White City Investigations showed up at dawn, packing a small observatory's worth of telescopic gear.

* * * * * * * * * *

"White City Investigations"
The detective agency named after the Fair but also named to invoke the idea of the imperialist mentality of the 18th century. It's the whites who control the norm and thus must investigate everybody who isn't acting like white people think they should be acting (in other words: non-white people).

"a small observatory's worth of telescopic gear"
This is it! This is Pynchon saying, "We're about to really begin examining late 19th century America and, by extension, the world! Let's really get into the weeds by focusing this telescope on them weeds over there where some ants are unionizing and some other ants are busting the pickets and some other ants are blowing up anthills and some other ants are busy manipulating the entire system. Oh yeah. Those are some good weeds!"

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 36: Line 6 (588)

 The boys began regular surveillance runs the next day.

* * * * * * * * * *

They're now working for The Man. They were probably previously working for The Man as well. But now they're on assignment and can't just hang out at the Fair all day. Maybe this is Pynchon's indication that the book is about to get serious. "We've had our fun on 'ground-leave' but now it's time to get to work. Let's observe America, shall we?"

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 36: Line 5 (587)

 Inconvenience would fit right in, as one more effect whose only purpose was to entertain.

* * * * * * * * * *

This fits with how this book has started, as an easily accessible boy's adventure novel. "Don't worry, readers! This big airship is just a standard entertainment! Just a bit of adventuring fluff! It doesn't represent anything else at all!" Even though it probably does represent something else. Early on, I speculated that the Inconvenience represents the book Against the Day itself. This sentence is pretty good evidence toward that supposition. Here we have a book, Against the Day, whose only purpose is to entertain. But that's the illusion of it. It's actually there to observe the people. And what else does good literature purport to do other than reflect a mirror back on the reader, as if it had been spying on us all along.

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 36: Line 4 (586)

 Fairgoers would see the ship overhead and yet not see it, for at the Fair, where miracles were routinely expected, nothing this summer was too big, too fast, too fantastically rigged out to impress anybody for more than a minute and a half, before the next marvel appeared.

* * * * * * * * * *

In other words, it's a perfect way to spy on Fairgoers. It's not suspicious because it's just as awesome as every single other thing at the Fair.

Is Pynchon also discussing subtext of the novel as it's about to transition from Boy's Adventure Novel to something else, something more difficult? Here we are at the Fair in a vaguely steampunk Boy's Adventure Novel with so many amazing and fantastic things to read about that the reader hardly notices the subtext at all! All the exhibits and wonders described at the Fair? Were they just there to amaze readers with the attractions the boys were seeing? Or did they all have a deeper meaning to the white imperialism subtext pervading this entire chapter? Who would notice the subtext with all this other crazy stuff to look at!

"too fantastically rigged out to impress anybody for more than a minute and a half, before the next marvel appeared"
This describes reading this book so densely packed with examples and allusions to various imperialist operations happening around the globe. Each one is described one sentence after another, giving the reader no time to really wrap their head around each one. Reading this book multiple sentences, multiple paragraphs, multiple pages at a time leaves little room for contemplation of everything that was just read. The only way to take in all of these sights is to slow down and take them one at a time, or in other words, "to single up all the lines."
    This is one of the reasons people take television so less serious an art form than movies. Because television programs come at you non-stop, one after the other, leaving little time to think about or discuss with others what was just experienced. Whereas movies give you an immediate break afterward, whereupon the viewer can walk out and ponder what was just experienced, perhaps discussing it on the way home with a friend with whom they had gone to see it.
    Maybe that's all changed now with streaming services and everything instantly at our disposal. But in some ways, it's also worse. When you binge a full season of a show, you barely think about it at all. It's a visceral experience, felt more than thought about. Have you ever noticed how when seasons of a show drop the full season at one time, when you're ready to watch the second season you can hardly remember the details of the first season? This probably doesn't happen if you've had repeat viewings or if you engage in discussion of the program online. But that's sort of the point! Marvels that appear before you for a minute and a half apiece are soon forgotten. More time must be put in. Understanding and comprehension take patience.

Doing this project has taught me two main things: 1. Reading a book by stopping after each sentence and contemplating that sentence as much as possible truly fills out the experience of the book; and 2. Life is too short to read very many books this way but now it's the only way I want to read them.

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 36: Line 3 (585)

 If there were any plots afoot to commit bomb or other outrages upon the Fair, the Inconvenience was ideal not only for scanning the grounds fence to fence, but also for keeping an eye out against any sea-borne assaults contemplated from the Lake side.

* * * * * * * * * *

When the Chums weren't on "ground-leave," they were busy spying from the air on the Fair in attempt to find labor organizers who might cause trouble with the status quo (the status quo being terrible and dangerous labor practices by employers). They didn't know they were trying to find labor organizers. They thought they were stopping potential anarchists from blowing things up for the pure pleasure of anarchy. But "anarchist" was just coded language for "disgruntled employee who has no other options than to cause some kind of uproar." This was an official assignment and like all official assignments given to the majority of people in America, it wasn't truthfully represented to them. This was to make it easier for them to do rather than burdening them with questions of ethics and morality. In America, "shades of gray" is just another way of saying "loss of profits."

Later we'll see that maybe there's another reason to worry about violent threats because an important European figure presents himself at the Fair and his death could cause a lot of trouble! Or will cause a lot of trouble eventually? But as long as it doesn't cause trouble at the Fair, that's the important thing! But never mind that! I'm getting ahead of the plot and that would mean I'd lose points on this assignment if I were back in my Children's Lit course in college!

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 36: Line 2 (584)

 The harsh nonfictional world waited outside the White City's limits, held off for this brief summer, making the entire commemorative season beside Lake Michigan at once dream-like and real.

* * * * * * * * * *

"The harsh nonfictional world"
In plot terms, the "real" world of Pynchon's Against the Day America. In book terms, the actual real world that exists outside Against the Day's limits.

"at once dream-like and real"
The Fair seemed "dream-like and real," a seeming paradox, because it was both a highly manufactured imaginative setting and set outside of reality within its own walls. So it was dream-like in its construction, exhibits, and state-of-the-art technology and architecture. But it was real in that it was a bubble unto itself. The outside world could not intrude so that a person, while within it, knew only the reality of the Fair. Dream-like. And real.

My ultimate goal is for my reality to seem dream-like. There are a handful of moments in my life when I have achieved this reality, if only for the most transient of moments. Perhaps not the most serene but quite close is one I think about fondly: I was sat cross-legged on the living room carpet in the middle of a friend's sister's high school party, tripping pleasantly on LSD, sipping on a can of who-can-even-remember-what-brand beer and just watching the revelry. Nobody disturbed me, seemingly seeing nothing wrong with my position, as if I were an ottoman or an end table. I wouldn't mind still being there. And perhaps I am, in a way.

Chapter 1: Section 5: Page 36: Line 1 (583)

 The Chums of Chance could have been granted no more appropriate form of "ground-leave" than the Chicago Fair, as the great national celebration possessed the exact degree of fictitiousness to permit the boys access and agency.

* * * * * * * * * *

Have I gotten to the difficult sections of the book already?! I say "already" as if thirty-six pages in Gravity's Rainbow wasn't already tremendously difficult. I should be saying finally! Even on the most shallow, literal level, this sentence is boggling my mind. Why would the fictitiousness of the Fair permit the boys access and agency?

I suppose "the fictitiousness of the Fair" gives the boys access because they are young white boys in America treading freely among all the various populations and cultures that are presenting exhibits at the Fair. Would they, anywhere else, have easy and safe access to hoochie-coochie dancers, Reindeer Shows, Zulu warriors demonstrating their techniques for defeating the white man, Pygmy tribes partially ruined by missionaries, Wazaris displaying their skills at banditry, and Tarahumara Indians tripping on peyote? Their education on various cultures could be done at their own pace and without fear of intruding on indigenous people in their homes. And while fictitious, they might still be able to learn something of the majesty and pride of other peoples de-centered from American civilization. "Ground-leave" anywhere else in the world would have meant access was conditional, depending on where they were and what people lived there. But the Fair? Everybody was welcome if they merely had fifty extra cents in their pockets.

And what about their agency? Pretty much the same deal, I suppose! They were free in the fictional world of the Fair to go where they wanted at their leisure without fear of stumbling into adult rules and regulations, or local laws and customs. Since Pynchon has already done a number of Star Trek analogies in the series, the Fair was like the Chums visiting the Holodeck. They were ultimately always in control of their environment with almost certain built-in safety protocols within the Fair's walls.

On a less literal level, the boys themselves are fictional. So inserting them into a fictionalized Chicago's Fair that was already literally fictional gives them more freedom than if Pynchon had placed them within the constraints of a fully realized historical event. The Fair was as much fantasy as reality and if Pynchon wants to pretend there was basically a Donkey Show in the middle of the Fair, what harm is there in that?!

Fictional boys in a fictional setting based on a real setting that was filled with exhibits which were inherently fictional. Does literature get any better than this?

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 35: Line 210 (582)

 Would any sum the New York lawyers might be suggesting now be worth the loss of that friendship?

* * * * * * * * * *

Yes.

No wait! I mean no! You can't put a price on friendship! Although if your friend were really your friend, wouldn't they want you to make loads of money illegally so that they lose respect for you and stop being your friend? Isn't that what a true friend would do for a friend who really wanted to make a boat load of easy money?

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 35: Line 209 (581)

 Ray certainly didn't care for any it, and the boys today, even in their usual unworldliness, had regarded him with something like apprehension.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Ray certainly didn't care for any it"
This should probably read "Ray certainly didn't care for any OF it" but it doesn't and the reason it doesn't isn't because I copied the sentence wrong. I've checked like a dozen times. Even now when I was typing that I didn't copy it wrong, I had to check again, just to make sure. I didn't write any of this to make a comment about the editor missing a mistake; this was all to just stop people from thinking I made a mistake!

The Professor knows he's making a mistake working with Scarsdale. His own gut tells him so. His confidant Ray Ipsow tells him so. The guileless and naïve Chums of Chance seem to know it. But he probably feels he's in too deep to do anything about it. 

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 35: Line 208 (580)

 The criminality in the room was almost palpable.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Almost"? I guess if it weren't almost palpable it would have to be palpable which would mean literally palpable although one of the literal definitions of palpable is "almost tangible" and one of the definitions is "tangible" so what was my point?

Oh yeah! Scarsdale Vibe is totally a criminal.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 35: Line 207 (579)

 Should he even be here?

* * * * * * * * * *

Should he? How did the Professor find himself here? What led to this deal being proposed? Why doesn't he treat Ray Ipsow as a trusted confidant instead of just the pilot of the airship that transports him around the states?

I suppose whether or not he should be here depends on what goals the Professor believes this meeting can accomplish. If it's only to destroy Tesla's device and ruin his reputation, he probably shouldn't be there. If he thinks he can gain funding to create something beneficial in spite of where the money is coming from and its intended purpose, well, maybe?

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 35: Line 206 (578)

 Was this the right thing to do?

* * * * * * * * * *

It might be a little late for the Professor to have second thoughts. But at least he's having them so that the reader can see he is not a horse trader sans mercy. He's just confused like a headless hat.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 35: Line 205 (577)

 More and more in recent weeks, he had found himself approaching likewise the condition of an empty cylinder, only intermittently occupied by intelligent thought.

* * * * * * * * * *

Well there you have it! No need to speculate if you can manage to read a book more than one sentence at a time! Pynchon gets right to the heart of the matter. The Professor is like a beat up old hat devoid of any sentience, only occasionally, these days, able to use his brain to suss out the variables and possibilities of his current situation. At the moment, the hat is off his head because he doesn't know what to think. He's an empty hat carried away by the winds of fate.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Pages 34-35: Line 204 (576)

 The Professor was left to stare into the depths of his ancient hat, as if it were a vestiary expression of his present situation.

* * * * * * * * * *

How does Pynchon know so many words? I bet he knows at least fifty more than I do.

"vestiary"
Vestiary means relating to clothes or dress. Which means the Professor sees his ancient, battered, empty hat as a metaphor for this terrible business meeting. The metaphor might simply stem from the emptiness of the hat. The entire prospect of working with Scarsdale Vibe is devoid of any virtue or pride. If the metaphor is any deeper than that, you can probably only visualize it if you're thinking the way Pynchon thinks. Maybe he'll explain it in more detail in the next sentence. "The deal was empty like how the hat was empty. And the terrible plot proposed by the evil Scarsdale as old and tattered as the material. The bent brim symbolized the Professor's impotence and inability to refuse a man of such means."
    Earlier the hat was described as "a stovepipe hat whose dents, scars, and departures from the cylindrical spoke as eloquently as its outdated style of a long and adventuresome history." So maybe that will help determine how the hat is an expression of this current situation! Just think, "The Professor's current situation is like a stovepipe hat with dents, scars, and a significant departure from the cylindrical." See? Now you know the Professor is not in a good state of mind.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 34: Line 203 (575)

 The call went through immediately, and Scarsdale, excusing himself, withdrew to an instrument in another part of the suite.

* * * * * * * * * *

By instrument, Pynchon means telephone. Maybe in 1893, rooms existed that were exclusively used for the telephone. So that you could have your conversations with your mistresses and evil business partners in private, away from the leering ears and prying eyes of your house staff and children. Although maybe, by instrument, Pynchon meant toilet and Scarsdale has gone off to take a crap. Who can tell?! If I can convince enough people to interpret it that way in some kind of academic paper, that's what it'll mean, right?! Man, I've got to go back and get my Masters! Look for my thesis in a few years: "Toilets in Literature, Movies, and Dirty Playground Jokes." Pulp Fiction will feature quite extensively in my thesis!

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 34: Lines 199-202 (571-574)

 "Here I figured you fellows spend your time wandering around with your thoughts all far, far away, and Professor, why, you're just a damn horse trader without mercy's what it is. Guess I should summon the legal staff, before I find myself hanging in a poultry-shop window, two bits away from getting fricasseed. Foley, would you just crank us up long distance there on the telephone—get us Somble, Strool & Fleshway, if you'd be so kind? Could be they'd share some ideas on how best to 'spring' for a project of this scale."

* * * * * * * * * *

With the fish hooked, there's nothing left for Scarsdale to do but insult the Professor and get the lawyers on the horn.

"you fellows"
Probably said with derision, meaning "the people with the imagination to see how the universe works and the ability to find ways to use that to make it better." Probably seen as children by businessmen. If not children then as products, to be used and manipulated in any way that can increase profits.
    You might have noticed, if you've been reading much of this blog, I despise certain types of people. I'm not against business people entirely. We do need them in the same way we need janitors and fast food servers and surgeons. But there's that type of businessman whose entire life is business and how they can make money with their business. They're like pot smokers whose entire personality is smoking pot. Look, guy in the pot leaf hat with the 420 tattoo and the bong strapped to his belt like a six shooter, I get it! You love the weed!

"your thoughts all far, far away"
Again, he's belittling scientific thinking. "You exist in an unreal world so far away from reality that you deserve to be exploited by those of us down here on Earth in the mud and shit. We make the money and the only way to improve the world is if there's some kind of payoff."
    My dad once said to me, "Money is freedom." And I said, "Time is freedom." And he couldn't contemplate the ability to have time without money. He just didn't have the imagination to break himself out of the system.

"you're just a damn horse trader without mercy"
Most of us see in others what we are. The Professor is nervous and agitated and in way above his head. He's answering questions he was asked, not committing to a contract to sell his soul for a horse. Here, Scarsdale hears "however much Tesla needs to build his device is probably what I'll need, at least" as "Well, how much is the other guy getting? Because that's how much I want." But the Professor is just trying to get some variables to put into an equation, that's all.

"I should summon the legal staff, before I find myself hanging in a poultry-shop window, two bits away from getting fricasseed"
Here Scarsdale pretends that he might get swindled by this merciless horse trader, feigning weakness as an insult to the Professor, by pretending this scientist isn't being honest in his motivations. Is also a nice segue to get the lawyers on the phone, something he probably couldn't wait to do. He's desperate to lock the Professor into a contract that's one hundred percent going to be to the Professor's disadvantage.

"'spring'"
Knowing Pynchon's quirks by now, putting the term 'spring' in quotes must mean it's only recently come into fashion to use it as a means to pay for or fund something. Previously I've done research on each of the words he's used this way and it's panned out. So I'm just going to trust this one because I'm about 20 ounces into a Hamm's which isn't great for researching. It's also maybe not great for writing but what can you do?

"20 ounces into a Hamm's"
That might not sound like much but I really don't drink much. I can maybe finish a six pack in three months? I do enjoy this cheap beer though because it was the beer of my grandfather, the nicest person to ever exist on Earth (after his wife, my grandmother).

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 34: Line 198 (570)

 Vibe's eyes with a contemptuous twinkle which colleagues had learned meant he had what he wanted.

* * * * * * * * * *

It looks like Scarsdale Vibe was less interested in getting a price quote and simply needed to gauge the Professor's willingness to assent to the project. And if the Professor is stammering on about how much it will cost, he's obviously made the leap, in his mind, to help Scarsdale destroy Tesla. So I guess "Well, ring-tailed rutabagas" was an exclamation of surprise at how easily the Professor came around to becoming an accessory to evil.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 34: Line 197 (569)

 "Well, ring-tailed rutabagas."

* * * * * * * * * *

Is this a bad statement to hear when negotiating a deal? If you were in a business meeting and you were all, "My price is one million dollars, sir!" Then the guy across the long table replied to you, "Well, ring-tailed rutabagas," would you be ecstatic or devastated?!
    I have a feeling the Professor shouldn't just feel devastated but scared at this response. I think maybe he's asked one too many questions and Scarsdale is beginning to get suspicious of him. If this were a mob movie from the 1980s, Scarsdale's next action would be to tear open the Professor's shirt to see if he's hiding a wire.

Fact Check: I don't think rutabagas have tails, ringed or not.

Double Fact Check: You might have realized that my fact check wasn't the best fact check because it began "I don't think." That indicates I didn't actually do any research and just trusted the facts that have piled up in my head over the last fifty years.

Triple Fact Check: I've never eaten a rutabaga, as far as I know.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 34: Line 196 (568)

 "Hmm . . . well . . . as a figure to start from . . . if only for symmetry's sake . . . say about what Brother Tesla's getting from Mr. Morgan?"

* * * * * * * * * *

The Professor's ability to negotiate in this meeting makes perfect sense to me. Some people just don't understand business and they don't want to understand business. It's not some aspect of their lives they care enough about to have ever given it any thought. Some people just want to get on doing what they want to do. They want to follow their passion even if their passion isn't shared by anybody else. In certain instances, like with the Professor here, your passion is something valuable to somebody else. In other instances, like with me, nobody gives a shit about anything you write (except maybe three junior high school girls from Missouri). But it doesn't matter. People often say, "If I wasn't getting paid for this, I'd still do it!" But that's easy to say. Here's the better version: "I can't imagine ever getting paid for this but I still love doing it!"
    Anyway, I suck at business but I own my own business so that I have way more free time to do all the nonsense that actually makes my life interesting to me. And when people need to know how much I charge for something that I've never done before? I'm fucking stymied! I never know what to charge! Eventually I came down to a formula that seems to work but I'm probably shorting myself because everybody always agrees to my prices readily. Maybe I should change the formula and just add " + 20%" to the end of it. Even that increase would be far below the rate of inflation since I first started ten years ago!
    Damn, I really need to consult a business advisor!

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 34: Line 195 (567)

 "Come now, Professor," boomed Foley Walker, holding a hotel whiskey decanter as if he meant to drink from it, "to the nearest million or so, just a rough guess?"

* * * * * * * * * *

I've never been in a penthouse suite doing a major business deal so I don't know if it's common to have one side's muscle intimidate the other side into throwing out a price. I was in a meeting once for my business with a client and we were negotiating new prices based on increasing the amount of store cleanings they'd get each month. The owner of the stores wanted to increase to twice monthly one store that I cleaned monthly for $125. So I said nervously, not really having thought about it, "One hundred per visit, I guess?" He looked at me and said, "How about $120?" And I was all, "Sure. Thanks for looking out for me and probably realizing I would resent doing it for so much less and begin not doing as good a job as I'd previously been doing!"

So now you know how terrible I am at business. I'm so terrible that the person I'm negotiating against pities me and helps me fight for better pay.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 34: Lines 193-194 (565-566)

 "Cost? Oh, I couldn't really—that is, I shouldn't—"

* * * * * * * * * *

Is it "couldn't" or "shouldn't"? What's the confusion, old man?! Can you not conceive of the price or is the matter just too delicate a topic to broach? Are you afraid that if you estimate too high, Scarsdale will be offended and shoot you with his cane? Or do you fear lowballing yourself and being stuck in a contract with this evil monster which will cost you more than you're worth?!

I suppose I would also be super nervous and confused dealing with an evil super-villain in his evil penthouse lair with his evil goon standing nearby smoking way too many evil cigars.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 34: Lines 191-192 (563-564)

 "Tell me the details later. Now—how much do you reckon something like that would actually, um," lowering his voice, "cost?"

* * * * * * * * * *

"lowering his voice"
So the only part of this entire conversation that Scarsdale Vibe believes might constitute an indiscretion in polite conversation is the cost of it all? Or maybe he's just lowering his voice because he knows if the Professor estimates an exorbitant sum, Scarsdale's next words will be, "I guess I'll just have Tesla killed for twenty quid."

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 34: Lines 189-190 (561-562)

 "Well in theory, I don't see any great obstacle. It's a simple phase inversion, though there may be non-linear phenomena of scale we cannot predict till we build a working Device—"

* * * * * * * * * *

"I don't see any great obstacle"
That's pretty much what I figured since I know so much about radio and I took calculus and physics in high school.
    Never mind what grade I got.

"It's a simple phase inversion"
I was going to brag some more about how I understand waves due to practically growing up on the beaches of Santa Cruz and seeing the phenomena of waves canceling each other out but then I thought about Star Trek and the transporters and I got super creeped out thinking about a Romulan device that could create a phase inversion transporter that would cancel out the person being beamed through space. I mean, in theory, that could work, right?!

"non-linear phenomena of scale"
I think this means once it's up and running, we could see unforeseen effects like giant earthquakes, random people's heads exploding, or Godzilla.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 34: Lines 185-188 (557-560)

 "Precisely why Pierpont's in on this. That and his arrangement with Edison—but there I go again spilling secrets. Bankrolling Tesla has given Morgan's access to all Tesla's engineering secrets. And he has operatives on the spot, ready day and night to rush us photographed copies of anything we need to know."

* * * * * * * * * *

A-ha! So J.P. Morgan's historical association with Nikola Tesla plays into Pynchon's tale! According to this fiction, Morgan wasn't interested in working with Tesla on a trans-Atlantic wireless system at all (or anything seven years before that, even, as he seems to be doing here in 1893, according to Scarsdale). He was simply infiltrating Tesla's camp to sabotage his work.
    I don't know if this is foreshadowing or some other literary motif but we'll see later that the working class plays the same game and are labeled socialists, communists, and anarchists for their efforts. How the world eventually comes to view you and your actions all depends on whether or not you own the media. And law enforcement. And politicians. One guy is just tweaking the rules because he's smart and good at money and rich and awesome. The other guy is a chowder-headed nitwit with a bomb who read one pamphlet on socialism, misunderstood it because he was poor and dumb, and became a terrorist who needs to be hanged as an example to all the other chowder-heads who dare to try to make the world a better place.

"he has operatives on the spot"
I should probably try to remember this when I get to the Nikola Tesla section. Maybe I can ferret out the characters who are obviously on Morgan's payroll!

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 34: Lines 183-184 (555-556)

 "Hmm. It would help to see Dr. Tesla's drawings and calculations."

* * * * * * * * * *

Pynchon's fictional account of 1893 builds upon our modern love of conspiracy (and would you expect anything else from Pynchon?). Here Pynchon gives us exactly the sort of scene we imagine took place, one that takes place in fancy penthouses all over the country even today. Science and technology come up with an invention which will help people that corporations and industrialists can't earn money from. Not only will they be unable to earn money from it, it will cost them billions of dollars over time. Cars that run on water alone? Totally invented but squashed by fossil fuel companies! A cure for cancer? Anathema to pharmaceutical companies. Tesla's wireless and free world power system? Buried by the electrical cartel!

"Tesla"
Does anybody else get "Modern Day Cowboy" stuck in their head whenever they see the name Tesla? 

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 34: Lines 180-182 (552-554)

 "Speak bluntly may I? Invent us a counter-transformer. Some piece of equipment that will detect one of these Tesla rigs in operation, and then broadcast something equal and opposite that'll nullify its effects."

* * * * * * * * * *

Here we see free market capitalism at work as it is expected to work by powerful and rich magnates. If somebody is free to improve society at the expense of the rich and powerful's wealth, then the rich and the powerful should be free to smash those people into little worthless smithereens. Scarsdale has no intention of "competing" in the "free market" of ideas. Tesla wants to build free power; Scarsdale wants to build a vault around the entire concept and sink it in the ocean.

"Speak bluntly may I?"
Imagine having to always couch your beliefs and declarations in metaphor, simile, and analogy because the earnest baring of your soul would be too horrific for those around you to stomach.
    I typed this meaning to criticize people like fictional character Scarsdale Vibe but have inadvertently hurt my own feelings.

"Invent us a counter-transformer"
Wait. I missed the part where Tesla was inventing Transformers in 1893. So basically Scarsdale wants the Professor to invent Decepticons.

"Some piece of equipment that will detect one of these Tesla rigs in operation, and then broadcast something equal and opposite that'll nullify its effects."
This isn't an outrageous theory at all. During the fledgling days of radio experimentation, transmissions had no way of going out without interfering with other radio transmissions in the area, resulting in garbled nonsense. This was about a decade or so later than 1893 so Scarsdale wouldn't be basing his idea on that. But the sense that if something can be transmitted, it is a thing that can be actively stopped is a reasonable one from a human perspective. Can you not smash a pipe pumping gas from one place to another to stop it from powering a distant apparatus? Could you not cut a wire to stop a telegraph transmission? Why not be able to detect and stop free power transmitted through the Aether then? And the best thing about making a "counter-transformer"? As the diabolical thwarter of some other scientist, you don't need to be nearly as imaginative or smart to build the thing that stops another thing!

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 34: Line 179 (551)

 "But," too much smoke in the air, not much time before he'd have to excuse himself, "I'm not sure how I can help."

* * * * * * * * * *

"You can help by taking this gun cane, calling a meeting with Tesla, and, well, you're good at math, right?" is what I would have had Scarsdale Vibe answer.

"too much smoke in the air, not much time before he'd have to excuse himself"
Only the most terrible and evil people can inhale so much smoke in one sitting. I don't have scientific proof of this but if I did, you couldn't trust my results because I don't believe in evil anyway. It's just bad things being done by selfish people who don't give a shit about anything but their own needs and desires. If you want to call that evil, well, sure. Whatever. I just use the word "evil" because it's easier than discussing the philosophy of good and evil every time the word is used. Just like when a scientist refers to God in a metaphorical way. Nobody wants to have to have a side discussion about the actual existence of nonsense. We all just understand that they didn't really mean it. I also read Elfquest and didn't have to stop every few pages to reassure myself that elves weren't real.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 33-34: Line 177-178 (549-550)

 "If such a thing is ever produced, Scarsdale Vibe was saying, "it will mean the end of the world, not just 'as we know it' but as anyone knows it. It is a weapon, Professor, surely you see that—the most terrible weapon the world has seen, designed to destroy not armies or matériel, but the very nature of exchange, our Economy's long struggle to evolve up out of the fish-market anarchy of all battling all to the rational systems of control whose blessings we enjoy at present."

* * * * * * * * * *

"it will mean the end of the world, not just 'as we know it' but as anyone knows it"
Yes and that isn't a bad thing for people who aren't billionaire industrialists creating the rules to keep themselves enriched and everybody else desperate enough to do the labor they need cheaply.

"the most terrible weapon the world has seen, designed to destroy not armies or matériel, but the very nature of exchange"
Changing the nature of exchange wouldn't destroy the world. It would, as Scarsdale mentioned, change the world as we know it. Free energy would mean people could live without being yoked to some endless cycle of needing to make money to pay for simply surviving. A large part of surviving would be free, a gift from the modern world to modern people who realize subsistence, in the modern era, shouldn't be the only thing one's time is spent on. Exchange would still happen but on a more personal and local level. It's not like free power will suddenly give everybody the ability to weave a basket. You're still going to need some way to pay for that basket you're obsessing over. Which means you still probably need a job of some kind, or some kind of expertise to trade for the basket. Scarsdale seeing this "tremendous gift" as a "terrible weapon" says so much about Scarsdale Vibe that I feel embarrassed seeing so much of his inner being.

"our Economy's long struggle to evolve up out of the fish-market anarchy"
This is a lie rich and powerful people love to tell. It's the one about how the Economy is somehow a living or organic being that has "evolved" according to some kind of science or natural law. But it hasn't. Economies are man-made. Aspects of our current economy have all been chosen and created by people who could have chosen or created an entirely different thing. If they "evolved" at all, it was due to human intervention by humans who benefitted from the chosen path of "evolution." Obviously rich and powerful people don't want a "fish-market anarchy" because another way of saying that is "free market" and even though they constantly praise free markets, it's truly their biggest nightmare.

"all battling all to the rational systems of control"
All battling all is the free market. It's what capitalists say they want but don't actually. They say they hate regulation which is "the rational systems of control" but in truth they just don't want regulation that limits their excesses and abuses. They constantly lobby the government to make laws and changes that benefit corporations. This is Scarsdale Vibe confessing: the free market is bad and regulations are good. But only by corporate and industrialist definitions. If it means a corporation can pollute to save money, the free market is great and rational systems of control are bad! If the government steps in to protect its citizens, corporations think the opposite.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 33: Line 176 (548)

 The audacity and scope of the inventor's dreams had always sent Heino Vanderjuice staggering back to his office in Sloane Lab feeling not so much a failure as someone who has taken a wrong turn in the labyrinth of Time and now cannot find his way back to the moment he made it.

* * * * * * * * * *

Content Warning: I don't know what I'm talking about.

I suppose one can't help but think of Thomas Pynchon as a postmodern writer. But literary genres are sort of fucked up. I suppose all labels placed on art, in an effort to understand that art, invariably lead to art that is made in an attempt to actively engage that label. So you begin to ascertain levels based on how a piece of art coexists with the genre it's perceived as being part of. The first tier is art that is a true reaction to a previous generation's art. Maybe not entirely conscious of the rebellion inherent in it, simply a visceral, explosive sigh in artistic form. Eventually you get a second tier where people have noticed a number of similar reactions to recent art and create art in the same vein but with a conscious understanding of the new style or delivery of the art. Then there is a third tier in which the artist, having been influenced mostly by the new and current trend against the old, but having little understanding of the old, chooses to make art similar to the new style without any knowledge that it's a response to the constant conversation of generational artists. And lastly, I think, there's the tier that simply copies the style because it's the current style, not thinking one way or the other, in any depth, on what the style means or why it came into vogue. They're simply parroting what seems to be popular. The boundaries on these tiers definitely aren't steep, vertical walls but slowly ascending ramps, perhaps their steady rise sometimes barely noticeable.
    These tiers perhaps make sense, as a way of thinking of artful dialogue, in many cases with new art styles supplanting old styles as the popular form of their time. But I'm not sure if I can reconcile them in postmodern literature. Postmodernism feels too much like a manufactured and purposeful response to modernist literature, never really existing in a space that was simple, visceral reaction. It's often too methodical. It's the first genre which maybe exists after a true loss of innocence (the loss happening during the modernist era). Postmodernism is simply modernism devirginized. It's generally the same reaction about the same things but with a hyperbolic (and maybe (certainly often) ironic) understanding of that reaction. It's no wonder that people tend to think of World War II as the end of modernism and the birth of postmodernism. World War I saw a stark and depressing change in the world's capability of truly understanding and acknowledging (and feeling culpable for) the horrors perpetrated by mankind. World War II witnessed how far those horrors could go, to a seemingly unimaginable end. World War I asked, "How much can human beings stand, and how far will they go?" World War II answered, "This far, assholes."
    All of this is to say, I suppose one can't help but think of Thomas Pynchon as a postmodern writer. He's as conscious as any author has ever been about what he's writing and how he's writing it. He's trying to communicate big ideas about great moments in mankind's history and their effects on simple, everyday individuals. But he often feels like a modernist writer. Which is part of his postmodern game, of course! He's not just writing a story that begins in 1893 in a way that modern audiences can easily digest it. He's writing a story that begins in 1893 that would be easily digestible by people of 1893 but told in a way that winks and smirks at modern audiences. "This is a book about 1893 that isn't about 1893 at all. Did you read my book about World War II that was very much about the Nixon era and Vietnam because it was written in the late 60s/early 70s? Well this one was written at the end of the 20th century/beginning of the 21st century so it's about that time period as well. It won't mention any of that but just be aware, dumb-dumb." You can tell that was a quote I made up by Thomas Pynchon talking to me because it ends with Pynchon saying "dumb-dumb."
    What got me thinking about all of this was Pynchon's sentence "taken a wrong turn in the labyrinth of Time and now cannot find his way back to the moment he made it." How postmodern is it to mention a labyrinth?! And for that labyrinth to be composed of time! I'd categorize modernism as being lost in the labyrinth of the mind and postmodernism as being lost in the labyrinth of time (and the mind and nostalgia and memory and childhood and sexual impotency and advertising and a list of things a labyrinth could be composed of). But not just lost inside a metaphorically geographic space but being lost in trying to return to a specific moment in your life.

"audacity and scope of the inventor's dreams"
This is another great bit. Pynchon doesn't say Vanderjuice is sickened by Tesla's inventions or his accomplishments; he's simply devastated by Tesla's imagination! In a way, this is probably what makes most writer's envious of other writers in the final summation. Maybe Vonnegut's Mother Night has some serious flaws in its construction and its facts, and perhaps it wasn't the most interesting of his books in, say, 1975 or 1993. But it was written in 1961 as an observation of historical events from the previous generation and was prescient in the conversation of Fox News and its terrible hosts in the 21st century. When I first read Mother Night, I wasn't envious that Vonnegut had written that book. I hardly had any life experience to make me see anything monumental about it at all. But in 2021, as a nearly fifty year old man, I am staggered by his imagination, by the audacity and scope of his perception. In other words, his genius makes me nauseated.
    Pynchon, obviously, is of the same scope (if not greater. That's a subjective call that I'm not willing to debate (mostly because I don't know whose side I would be on)). But Pynchon was probably thinking of writers he's envious of when writing this moment; of people within his field who he can only dream of being compared to. I don't know much about Pynchon personally but he must have literary heroes whom he feels dwarf even his greatest works. Maybe Joyce? Melville? Heller, perhaps? Steinbeck?!

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 33: Line 175 (547)

 Vomit.

* * * * * * * * * *

Not much to say on a one word sentence so let me Gary Busey this one:

VOMIT
Viscous
Ooze
Moving
Inside
Throat.

Or maybe:

VOMIT
Vanderjuice
Obsesses Over
More
Intelligent
Tesla.

Okay maybe that's "voomit." But this is the Internet and according to "lose/loose," vomit may one day be spelled that way. I'm just ahead of the curve. Like Tesla!

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 33: Line 174 (546)

 Every time Tesla's name came up, this was the predictable outcome.

* * * * * * * * * *

Oh, I see. I've been corrected. The Professor doesn't feel sick because he's negotiating a business deal with the most cartoonish villain since Montgomery Burns. He's sick because he was reminded that his brain isn't the biggest brain in the metaphorical locker room. Is that a thing? The metaphorical locker room? If not, I apologize for making you think of a bunch of men with their dongs out. Did I need to apologize? Or did you enjoy that? Well then, you're welcome!

At least the Professor thinks like a scientist. Whenever X happens, Y happens! Predictable! But I bet Tesla knew this was a theorem before the Professor did. His brain! So large! So veiny!

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 33: Line 173 (545)

 The Professor was literally having an attack of nausea.

* * * * * * * * * *

"literally"
I suppose if Pynchon didn't use the word "literally" here, I'd just assume the Professor was feeling a little queasy in his tum-tum. But by using the word, I now know the Professor is on the verge of ralphing all over the Penthouse because he's just realized how evil the man he's doing business with is.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 33: Lines 167-172 (539-544)

 "Back in the spring, Dr. Tesla was able to achieve readings on his transformer of up to a million volts. It does not take a prophet to see where this is headed. He is already talking in private about something he calls a 'World-System,' for producing huge amounts of electrical power that anyone can tap in to for free, anywhere in the world, because it uses the planet as an element in a gigantic resonant circuit. He is naïve enough to think he can get financing for this, from Pierpont, or me, or one or two others. It has escaped his mighty intellect that no one can make any money off an invention like that. To put up money for research into a system of free power would be to throw it away, and violate—hell, betray—the essence of everything modern history is supposed to be."

* * * * * * * * * *

"Dr. Tesla"
Being that Scarsdale Vibe is such a comic book villain with a comic book villain name, Dr. Tesla simply sounds like a super hero. Which he totally was and, I imagine, Pynchon will continue to make him look more and more like one. Because I think, at least so far, Pynchon is really going for a comic book flavor with this book.

"of up to a million volts"
That's an actual lot in 1893 and not some Dr. Evil hilariously too low number, right? I'm only asking because I'm dumb. The only thing I know about electricity is that if your Crossbow arcade game isn't working right and you're holding the trigger, you can touch another piece of metal and get a somewhat pleasant low level shock run through you. Maybe it was just that one machine at the 7-Eleven by the house where I grew up and not all of the machines. Remember, I'm dumb so I don't know how science works.

"does not take a prophet"
"It doesn't take a prophet to see we can't make a profit with Tesla," is what Scarsdale Vibe should have said. I mean, he says it. But not like a comic book villain would have with a nice pun and a tweak of his waxed mustache.

"He is already talking in private"
If it's in private, how does Scarsdale know about it?! He must employ spies working for Tesla!

"a 'World-System,' for producing huge amounts of electrical power that anyone can tap in to for free"
Not just a hero but a socialist as well! That should be expected. In comic books, all super heroes are socialist in that they almost never charge for their heroics. And all comic book villains are capitalists because how else did they get all that money to build that evil lair in which they could hire lots of henchmen for low wages without health insurance to help them build a huge and expensive laser that can destroy the moon? "But why would they destroy the moon?" you might ask. For profit! Duh!

"uses the planet as an element in a gigantic resonant circuit"
Here's what I can find on the Internet when I search for "resonant circuit for dumbies":

"A resonant circuit is formed when a capacitor and inductor (coil) are in parallel or in series. The two circuit elements will block or pass a single specific frequency out of a divers mix. For this reason, resonant circuits make possible radio and TV transmission and reception and perform many other useful tasks."

Well, that explains that! I'm so glad I understand it now! Of course that's why they make TV and radio possible! Duh! So obvious! Now imagine if the Earth were a resonant circuit! We would have like a million more television shows, right?!

"He is naïve enough to think he can get financing for this"
This is why the government should fund experiments in science and technology. Because science and technology should make the world a better place for everybody, not just for the investors who then have a right to own it and partial it out to only people who can pay the exorbitant prices charged for access to it.

"Pierpont"
John Pierpont Morgan. A rich American bastard who exploited loads of people and stole ungodly amounts of money from the general economy. Eventually in 1900, J.P. Morgan does invest in Tesla because Scarsdale Vibe doesn't know as much as he thinks he knows! Except maybe he does because J.P. Morgan invests in Tesla to build a better telegraph system and Tesla immediately decided to work on the free power deal instead. Morgan, as Vibe notes, realized he couldn't make any money on owning 51% of free power and killed the deal, the selfish rich bastard. He had so much money but he could only invest in things that made him more money? What a jerk. Morgan died peacefully at the age of 76 because there is no God.

"It has escaped his mighty intellect that no one can make any money off an invention like that."
It has escaped Scarsdale's mighty intellect that not all people are selfish twats and so maybe profit isn't their only concern. But then again, Scarsdale has the kind of thinking you'd find in the brain of a modern Conservative in which only profit matters and life must be earned. So free energy has two faults: it doesn't make any money and it freely gives people something they, apparently, don't deserve.

"To put up money for research into a system of free power would be to throw it away, and violate—hell, betray—the essence of everything modern history is supposed to be."
People who think they're smart actually believe crap like this. They believe only profit motivates. They believe only competition can improve a system. They believe money invested for the betterment of mankind is money wasted. They believe modern history is made by rich and powerful men who make decisions based on numbers and not people. Maybe that's true. Maybe that is what modern history is and maybe to try anything else is to betray modern history. But if that's the case, I'm ready to fucking betray it. As Huck Finn said, "All right, then, I'll go to hell."

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 33: Line 166 (538)

 Up in his penthouse suite, Scarsdale had moved on to the business at hand.

* * * * * * * * * *

Now that the socialist fact-checker has left the building to go drink himself silly and dance with women, things that aren't earning him money after which he'll probably expect a handout for not working at all during every minute of his life, Scarsdale can get down to the matter of money: how much is the Professor willing to sell his soul for?

By the way, the penthouse suite of the Palmer House is still touted as a great place to do your business! It's a beautiful space with loads and loads of beautiful rooms full of peacock imagery. It's not just a place to stay; it's a historic Chicago destination! Hopefully they also love handing out checks to bloggers who promote them online! Cha-ching!

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 33: Line 165 (537)

 "Anybody feel like dancing?" offered Chevrolette.

* * * * * * * * * *

I wonder where Chevrolette left Chick and Darby? Probably passed out in some dark alley of the fair in their cum-stained trousers.

This is the last sentence of this scene in the Pump Room because Chevrolette can't handle listening to anymore of this dour garbage about the Professor from these two. So she changes the subject to something more exciting because the new subject involves possibly touching a woman.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 33: Lines 162-164 (534-536)

 "Lately he's been keeping those ideas pretty much to himself, like he's finally learned how much they might be worth. Seen that happen enough, Lord knows. This big parade of modern inventions, all spirited march tunes, public going ooh and aah, but someplace lurking just out of sight is always some lawyer or accountant, beating the 2/4 like clockwork and runnin the show."

* * * * * * * * * *

"like he's finally learned how much they might be worth"
See?! Loss of innocence! I knew S.E. Hinton's The Outsiders wouldn't steer me wrong! It's as if the Professor had found this new type of game that used cards which you purchased in packs with random cards inside. And when you play a game, you bet one of your cards against one of your opponent's cards. Whoever wins gets to keep both cards. And nobody even considered that maybe some of these cards might actually be worth more money than the entire pack was purchased for so nobody really cared much about losing this card or winning that one. But then some jerk whom you thought was your friend suddenly showed up with a magazine whose main reason for being published was to list the different values of all of these cards. And now suddenly Cheryl doesn't want to play for ante because she might lose her Shivan Dragon. Well la dee fucking dah, Cheryl! I guess we'll all just stop having fun then! And thanks a lot, Stephen, for bringing that stupid magazine into our midst! I haven't enjoyed anything since that day in the early 90s! Why even bother going on?! Nothing gold can stay!

"Seen that happen enough, Lord knows"
Me too! Remember that story I've told before and then just now about how fucking Stephen ruined Magic the Gathering for us?!

"This big parade of modern inventions"
This is one of the themes of this book! Look at how all of these modern inventions changed the landscape of our lives at the end of the 19th century! See how we reacted to them! See how they foreshadow the ultimate invention of the 20th century which isn't Magic the Gathering but nuclear weapons!
    Another theme is "See how, by trying to center the story around themselves, Europeans destabilized the center, bringing the entire world into themselves and changing themselves drastically while trying to outwardly control the rest of the world." The imperialist drive to control and dominate the world simply caused soldiers, refugees, and immigrants to bring back to the homeland all of the cultures the imperialists were trying to control and make more British (or whatever, depending on the European country. It's just easy to speak of Britain since they were the empire on which the sun never set or whatever) thus irrevocably changing British life forever, many times in the ways the imperialism was initially meant to prevent. The dumbies.

"beating the 2/4"
This means a beat of two quarter notes per bar. A quarter note is also known as a crotchet. The alternate definition for crotchet is "a perverse or unfounded belief or notion." I first learned that word from Gravity's Rainbow. It, along with Tristram Shandy's "hobbyhorse" are two of my favorite words to describe other people's arguments and motivations.

"like clockwork"
Clockwork plays a large part in Mason & Dixon! So think up something intellectual that compares the two novels here, email it to me, and I'll replace this sentence with that, taking full credit for it.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 33: Lines 160-161 (532-533)

 "Something missing. He used to get so fired up about everything—we'd be designing something, run out of paper, he'd take his shirt collar off and just use that to scribble on."

* * * * * * * * * *

"Something missing"
It's probably innocence. Whenever something suddenly goes missing, it's innocence. I think I learned that from S.E. Hinton's The Outsiders.

"we'd be designing something, run out of paper"
I bet there was a paper shortage in 1893. It probably came on the heels of the repeal of the Sherman Silver Purchase Act and the plummet of silver prices. I would research it but I know when my speculating isn't worth the shirt collar it's written on.

"he'd take his shirt collar off"
Remember when shirt collars weren't actually part of your shirt? What kind of wacky system is that?! Maybe there wouldn't have been a paper shortage if they hadn't been using all their stiff paper for shirt collars? 

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 33: Line 159 (531)

 Merle nodded.

* * * * * * * * * *

Fine. I guess Merle had time to notice the Professor acting strangely. Merle's pretty observant, I guess, being a photographer and all.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 33: Line 157-158 (529-530)

 "He seems different these days. You notice anything?"

* * * * * * * * * *

Ray is talking about the Professor. He's asking Merle and Chevrolette as if they've hung around him enough to notice. Maybe they have. I haven't been privy to every single thing that's happened since this story began. Maybe Merle had enough time with the Professor on the ride to the steak house to notice the Professor has become severely agitated and anxious due to his economic dealings with a man named Scarsdale Vibe. It's his own fault, of course. As soon as somebody tries to shake my hand and says, "Hello, my name is Scarsdale," I would be saying, "Okay. Nice to meet you but I have to jump out of this window and run away down the street like an out of control ping pong ball now!"

Actually, that's my reaction whenever anybody tries to shake my hand. But dealing with a man by the name of Scarsdale is like putting punctuation on a text message to a youth. It's only going to cause trouble.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 33: Line 156 (528)

 Ray Ipsow regarded the surface of his beer.

* * * * * * * * * *

This is a sign that a working class person is about to do some real thinking! Personally, I can't have a profound thought unless I'm giggling happily at the Yogi Bear image stamped dozens of times on the perforated piece of paper I'm holding in front of me.

I don't know what class that makes me. Remedial?

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 33: Line 155 (527)

 Somewhere a small string orchestra was playing an arrangement of "Old Zip Coon."

* * * * * * * * * *

It might not come as a surprise to you because the name of the song is "Old Zip Coon" but it's pretty racist. Obviously the music part isn't racist so being played by a string orchestra would probably make a time traveler think, "Oh, they're playing 'Turkey in the Straw'!" And I don't think that song was racist. Although it was an old song that I haven't heard since elementary school in the 70s so that doesn't bode well for the whole "not racist" angle. And now that I've looked at the lyrics, I suspect it was written racist and then somebody thought, "You know what? This song isn't racist enough for me!" And then they wrote "Old Zip Coon." Also looking at more "Turkey in the Straw" facts, I discovered it was a popular song to play in blackface at Minstrel Shows in the time of this story. No wonder Barney and The Wiggles and every kids' entertainer who somehow couldn't give up the song had to completely change the lyrics.

"Old Zip Coon" has many stanzas and goes on for only about five minutes but it sounds like it goes on forever. The version I listened to was on YouTube and had the comments turned off explicitly because they knew exactly the kinds of comments it would have garnered on YouTube. Although it sounds like, in their reasoning for turning off the comments, they didn't have the foresight to initially turn off comments and they were surprised by the general masses. Maybe they were surprised so many people were commenting, "Ugh. This is racist garbage. Why does it exist?" And they were tired of saying, "Historical things are often racist but we have to keep hearing them over and over or else you're erasing history!" And then the commenters were probably all, "Maybe if you had an old wax tube recording but this guy re-recorded this shit for some reason. That seems odd, doesn't it?" And then the YouTube channel was probably all, "Barney the Dinosaur recorded it too!" And then everybody had to Google Barney's version of "Old Zip Coon" which was actually "Turkey in the Straw" and then they came back to say, "Okay but he really changed the lyrics and, by the way, 'Turkey in the Straw' wasn't great but somebody thought they needed to racist up that racist shit?" but by then the comments were turned off.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 33: Line 154 (526)

 Couples in boutonnières and ostrich-plume hats paraded self-composedly among the dwarf palms or paused by the Italian Fountain as if thinking about jumping in.

* * * * * * * * * *

The dwarf palms I can picture because that's a fancy hotel cliché. But the Italian Fountain? In the middle of the bar? I can guess that's why they call it the Pump Room because they have water pumping in to fill the fountain. But what makes the fountain Italian over Spanish or German or Welsh? I bet it's the added syrup, right?

"as if thinking about jumping in"
Whenever I see people pause by a fountain, I never think, "Oh, I wonder if they're about to jump in." I think the omniscient narrator might be depressed and his mood is infiltrating his descriptions.

"paraded self-composedly"
They're there to be seen. Don't expect them to enjoy themselves. Oh! Maybe that's why they're contemplating jumping in the fountain!

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 33: Line 153 (525)

 Down in the elegant Pump Room, Ray ran into Merle Rideout and Chevrolette McAdoo, who were "out on the town," owing to a fortunate wager Merle had made earlier that day.

* * * * * * * * * *

In this bit, we see Ray move downward, both physically and socially, in the hotel. He has left the penthouse where the rich and entitled meet and moved about as far down as possible on every scale, metaphorical and physical, to arrive at the "Pump Room" with burlesque dancer Chevrolette and cuckolded raunchy Merle. Sure, the Pump Room might be elegant but if it lets in riff-raff like this, how exclusive a location can it actually be?

"a fortunate wager"
Gambling, of course, is practically the only way for a lower class American to garner enough wealth to even have a taste of a higher class life. It's the only economic movement realistically available to them because those running gambling rings understand the odds and they understand the habits of people desperate for better circumstances. So a few win while most lose. So what? They'll just blow it on some luxury to make their terribly hard lives somewhat better for a brief moment and then it'll be back to gambling. They have no recourse to making money through investment because all of the games are rigged to make more money for those who already have enough money and have gained power through their money. Better to have a nice night out than to have your money stolen by rich solicitors and financiers pretending to care about your investments.
    Also, I wonder what the fortunate wager was?! Maybe we'll find out in a "Merle Section."

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 32: Line 152 (524)

 "It's all right, I'll be down at the bar," as he went through the door, adding, "praying for wisdom."

* * * * * * * * * *

The bar is my altar; the bartender priest.
The drinks my communion; self-loathing, my mass.
The rickety stool serves as singular pew.
The padded edge of the bar my head's kneeler.
The choir are patrons; their hymns pick-up lines.
Then later the john, a confessional stall,
Where the wisdom comes in waves.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 32: Line 151 (523)

 Ray gathered his hat and stood.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ray, realizing he has no actual power in this room and any continued defense of his beliefs will only cause him to become a martyr, decides to bow out before Scarsdale becomes angry. Thanks to Shel Silverstein's "The Devil and Billy Markham," it's a tactic I've come to know as a "chickenshit hit and run." I know describing it as "chickenshit" makes it sound as if I don't think much of it but I think it's a great tactic! It's one of my preferred tactics, especially online! "Chickenshit" is just the way the God described it in the poem because Billy tried to use it against Him.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 32: Line 150 (522)

 Scarsdale squinted, not sure if this should be taken as an affront to his faith.

* * * * * * * * * *

In a way, Ray Ipsow has checkmated Scarsdale Vibe here. Vibe admitted to being guided by Second Corinthians so he can either choose to live by this statement and suffer Ray's insult, or he can drop the entire charade and just exert his ultimate power. You know, violence. Obviously that would come with some crazy complicated strings attached, and might sour his deal with the Professor. So he's taking this moment to squint and decide "if this should be taken as an affront to his faith." In other words, if he decides it was an affront, Ray is going to get his ass beat.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 32: Line 149 (521)

 Foley got to his feet and strolled over to the window.

* * * * * * * * * *

There's the violence of punching a guy in the mouth because you don't like his opinions and there's the violence of aggressively ignoring him, even if it means looking out of a window when the person is obviously a big dumb brute who has never been curious about anything outside the room he currently occupies.

"strolled"
This is the most nonchalant way you can get to a destination, a clear signal that you're currently not threatened by anything near you. It's quite a simple and genius way to exert your power during a heated exchange.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 32: Line 148 (520)

 The guards lounging by the doorway seemed to grow more alert.

* * * * * * * * * *

Whose perspective is this bit of narration from? If an omniscient narrator, wouldn't they know for sure if the guards grew more alert? If the narrator were not omniscient, I suppose this would be a fine thing to say to the reader, as if the text were the Dungeon Master of a role playing game and the reader the player character.

"Gary the Small mouths off to the wizard," declares Gary Rochambeau, clutching either side of his hobbit's character sheet in anticipation of the wizard's reaction.
    "The guards lounging by the doorway seem to grow more alert," replies Dark Cyrus, his Game Master.

I suppose if we think of Ray Ipsow as Gary the Small in the previous example, it makes sense. Ray would have known he's pushing the limits of Scarsdale's patience and so checks to see how Vibe's bodyguards are reacting. But we know the narrator is some omniscient fan of the Chums of Chance Adventure Book series. Unless the narrator changed when the story began following the Professor and Ray, leaving the Chums at the steakhouse.

Anyway, Ray probably realizes he should shut up before he gets his ass beat.

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 32: Line 147 (519)

 "Suffering fools is unavoidable," said Ray Ipsow, "but don't ask me to be 'glad' about it."

* * * * * * * * * *

Nobody who is actually suffering fools chooses to be glad about it. But Paul makes the rhetorical argument that the Corinthians must suffer fools gladly, having listened to other anti-Christian arguments and seemingly taken them to heart. So Paul is all, "Look. You obviously have a history of listening to idiots. So what's the harm in listening to me, a self-proclaimed idiot?!" In doing so, he's not suggesting everybody in the world suffer fools gladly. He's suggesting the opposite! He's all, "Stop listening to fools, you idiots! Listen to me and Christ and the church!" Sure, he keeps saying in parenthetical references, "I'm a fool too!" But he doesn't mean it! It's just his way of worming himself through the Corinthians' front door so he can preach the gospel directly into their faces. To suffer fools gladly is to listen to terrible, self-serving, idiotic arguments that in no way improve your life (or the lives of others) through debate. Debate isn't a goal in and of itself! It's a tool and sometimes it's not the right tool. So when some asshat like Charlie Kirk or Ben Shapiro spouts a volcano of belligerent nonsense about somebody refusing to debate them, realize that they're basically screaming, "This person wants to drill a hole but they won't accept my hammer to do it!"

Suffer fools gladly? No thank you, sir. Even Paul, who said it, didn't actually mean it!

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 32: Line 146 (518)

 He had a careful look around the table, estimating the level of Scriptural awareness.

* * * * * * * * * *

Have I mentioned my high school friend Soy Rakelson on this blog yet? Because this is the kind of thing he would have done during a late night game of Warhammer, especially if he were the Game Master. He'd drop a Biblical reference and then nod his head (maybe while rubbing his chin) as he panned around the heathen group at the table, waiting to see if anybody would pick up on it. Then if somebody did reply in a way that showed they understood the reference, he'd say, "Very good, X" where "X" was that person's last name. If it wasn't Roy . . . I'm sorry, I meant Soy! . . . who made the Biblical reference but one of the other ungodly people at the table, he'd be absolutely flabbergasted that they would know anything at all about The Bible. Even though he knew we were all English and Literature majors and what good is an English Lit major without an abundant knowledge of scripture?! You're going to miss 90% of all the references and thematic elements of the text!

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 32: Line 144-145 (516-517)

 "The Professor's afraid you're going to chase me off with radical talk like that. But I am not that sensitive a soul, I am guided, as ever, by Second Corinthians."

* * * * * * * * * *

"radical talk"
In other words, honestly and truthfully giving a conservative well-deserved criticism.

"Second Corinthians"
I'm fairly certain I know which part of Second Corinthians Scarsdale is referencing but let's talk about some of the other aspects of it first.
    First off, what is Second Corinthians? It's a letter to the Corinthians from the Apostle Paul saying, "Look. I think you guys should believe in God. It's just that, you know, Christ died for your sins and, well, I think you're obligated to believe in God because of that. Also, you're miserable, right? So miserable! But if you believe in God, you'll feel glorious! Because you'll be saved from death or something. Because death is eternal and life is not and you don't want to be dead for eternity, do you?! So just believe in God and you'll live forever! And all you have to do is believe everything I tell you to believe and also tell everybody you ever meet to believe me too. I mean to believe Christ. Thank you! I love you, Corinth! You're not as scared and weak as you think! I mean, you are but you won't be if you just ally with Christ and by Christ I mean this new church I'm working on!"
    I'm no theologian so you might want to take all that with a grain of Lot's wife.
    I love how people often remark on a certain book of The Bible as if they base their life's philosophy on it and then it turns out they're a rich American magnate who forgot part of that book says, "Receive us; we have wronged no man, we have corrupted no man, we have defrauded no man." I suppose, like everybody who bases their life on The Bible, they never mean the parts that disagree with their lifestyle. In fact, they're usually so deluded they think they agree with the parts that actually condemn them.
    Paul's line after that piece I just quoted is "I speak not this to condemn you." It's like an editor was reading through his letter and was all, "Hey. This part here. You're saying you are this which suggests maybe they aren't that? Maybe clarify that a bit before you send it?" And Paul was all, "Oh, yeah, um, 'Hey, man! I didn't mean nothing by that. Remember how I said you're in my heart and all? I love you, man, for all your faults and everything which are totally apparent. God loves people with faults and problems! How else am I supposed to convince them their lives have become unmanageable?!"
    Did you know Paul was the first person to say "Sorry not sorry"? 2 Corinthians 7:8: "For though I made you sorry with a letter, I do not repent, though I did repent: for I perceive that the same epistle hath made you sorry, though it were but for a season." So Paul is all, "Sorry I made you so mad with that first letter. But I'm also not sorry because you needed to be mad for a bit to understand this next letter?"
    I'm also fairly certain Scarsdale isn't saying he's guided by 2 Corinthians 8:14 which states, "But by an equality, that now at this time your abundance may be a supply for their want, that their abundance also may be a supply for your want: that there may be equality" because that's Goddamned socialism.
    Maybe I should just get to the part that Scarsdale is obviously referring to since it bolsters his stance of being sensitive to Ray's radical talk. Let's begin again!

"Second Corinthians"
Scarsdale says he lets Second Corinthians be his guide but he doesn't specify which section. That can be taken a lot of ways! But being that Scarsdale Vibe is a cartoon villain who believes that however he lives his life is the proper way to live, justifying it by any means necessary, he is almost certainly speaking of 2 Corinthians 11:19: "For ye suffer fools gladly, seeing ye yourselves are wise." Like just about every person ever, Scarsdale forgoes context for a line he can manipulate to his liking. Of course I can't be sure this is the part of 2 Corinthians he uses as a guide! But then if he uses the entire thing as a guide, it's simply a letter to a bunch of heathens trying to goad them into believing in Christ and letting his church gain a foothold in their country so the church can get richer. For the sake of the ministry, of course! Paul says as much when he's all, "I know I said that thing about sharing your abundance but don't judge our financial abundance because we need it to administer and portion out our spiritual abundance to all of you spiritually lacking half-wits!"
    Scarsdale obviously means to say that he takes no offense from foolish arguments against his lifestyle because Scarsdale is wise enough to know better. But the ironic part of Scarsdale being guided by 2 Corinthians is that Paul makes a grandly sarcastic argument against boasting and the confidence of the wise. He also seems to suggest that earthly abundance should be shared in the same way that spiritual abundance should be. Unless that's just my socialist take and what Paul is really saying is, "Don't worry about being rich. It doesn't matter either way. Rich, poor . . . who cares?! As long as you plant spiritual seeds so that you can reap loads and loads of spiritual fruit! But remember to share that fruit because we need more fruit seeds all over the world so that everybody and their heathen dog can partake of the sweet, sweet flavor of it!"