Nana's Song

 

4/5/13

Nana’s Song 

 

 

It was decided that this would be the last game of Mahjong for tonight. Nana and Portman version were north to south, and Gerald and Hanamichi were east to west. Nana’s liquid screen glared ‘LOADING’ to process her current hand. “Aeh-Aeh-Aeh-Aeh, Shohoku #1, tilt dat jon again”, Gerald pointed out to Hanamichi. Portman whacked her palm on Nana’s monitor as if she heard it for the thousandth time. Nana’s screen went black, and five second later, her face reappear. “Ready to play mahjong?”, she said in her OSX Laila preset. She was also the jukebox. She played on very low, Mouse on Mars - Schnick Schnack Meltmade. It gave some sort of fringe comfort to every board game night.

The last hand finally went out. “Alright, dis is mah best yet”, Gerald said between him and Nana. Both Hanamichi and Portman would of rather played Netrunner tonight. Portman had no chance of winning this one. She gazed up at neon light, too bored to smoke again. Hanamichi passed her tiles anyway. The gibberish tune kept them alive. “Aight stick him up Nansta!”, Gerald said with the upmost confidence. Suddenly, Nana turned off Meltmade. Portman looked up. 

Nana talked using sequence of herself from different issues archived in memory. She had a voice file for every english vowels; spanning from an E still from Vol.1 and the classic O from Vol.2, almost looking like a sex doll. “Hey guys, I’ve been practicing with my killer bannnnnnd (a lag in speech) recently, would you like to hear a song me and NANA (loud) did?” She would break down like this durning a game. It was a way of saying she lost. “Nansta, wuts in yo hand? Stop bein’ a sour faggot and show me wut’ch you got!”. “Not again”, Portman said. It was embarrassing that Nana could not even remember in her circuits that Nana Portman was the musician and she was the housemaid. “Nana, you wanna go now? I got some soma at my cell”, Hanamichi said. He had a chance with this women than the girl who broke up, Haruko, even though he still thinks about her every week. Everyone had anxiety issues when Meltmade was off.

The room turned dark by Nana’s orders. She also controlled the room. “Okay guys, hear I go”. Nana’s screen went black, the orange neon light was the only thing alive. Gerald stared at the screen, mouth open. Hanamichi and Portman did not feel like it. Whenever she sang, her stills would animate in motion. It was awkward and not possible for her computing. She sang in-sync with the cut-up samples:

 

 

In your heart theirs a world of sadness, I love you with all heart.

- Love is like a bullet in the head - uh huh

What you heard is never really what I said - uh huh

- Always the war in 1983 - this is the world of today.

In our mind there is only the money and there is nothing for you.

Then hours work

no flowers in the mind

She's got the look (she's got the look!)

- You said that you loved me And I thought that it was true You said that you needed me And baby, I believed that too.

- And if I should start to cry, 

and I can't begin to tell you why, 

and I stumble when I begin, 

it's cause I don't understand anything.

(You reach for me from miles away,)

- You' re a danger, you' re a stranger 

Got to know the way to make you mine 

Come on dancer give me a chance and 

Make me love until the end of time 

- KISS ME KISS ME BABY so you can tell me why 

Take me take me up to the sky 

KISS ME KISS ME BABY so you can try me now 

Tell me tell me watching the moonlight 

Kiss me baby don't worry I'm your lover 

I'm in action for you, darling 

Kiss me honey don't trust me like a cover 

Still alive my love for you

 

Portman took a long sigh. Nana was not done yet. Hanamichi worried. He got up with her.

 

- I'm not afraid of the price i pay 

i won't lie down as you walk away 

i know you must have seen him 

i'm sure you must have heard it all 

i know you used to be him 

did anybody care at all?

- My eyes gain focus the second you walk in 

Feathers of evil shaking and burning 

Daddy, oh daddy, oh daddy, you're listening 

I know that they're dirty, I know that they're faking 

So what kind of voodoo do you do to make me feel this way 

What kind of voodoo do you do to make me feel this way 

As soon as you turn up my skin starts to burn up 

I burn up I burn up 

As soon as you turn up 

So what kind of voodoo do you do

What kind of voodoo do you do 

What kind of voodoo do you do to make me feel this way

Up in flames 

Up in flames 

Up in flames 

My love will go up in flames for you 

Profoundly profane and it drives me insane 

[Noise] - What do you know - Don't blow your top now, here we go! 

- Ingenuity and progress never progressed out of the sun

All experiments prove not need the established

Greed and pain inflicted on the animal model still nothing

No cure the ravaged instinct silent waking to a

Chemical perversion wartime underground

Imperfect plotting grows the seeds of time

Imperfect plotting grows the seeds of time

Imperfect plotting grows the seeds of time

Imperfect plotting grows the seeds of time

 

The song was over and the lights went back on slowly. Portman and Hanamichi rushed out the then sealed door. Gerald became fascinated. He could care less about the game now. He shook his head, “Yo, dat beat “ like, I like. But seriously, lay off dat one part about the black celebration, no way mang.” Gerald had a lot to say about politics. Only Nana listened to his ramblings. He was black, a midget, and a committed Zionist. Hence, he always wore that same large size Star of David t-shirt. Gerald stoop on the table, on the tiles, face to face with Nana. “Yo music, know wut its like? It’s candy-coated! Bullshit!” Waving his hands spastically as he talked, “Do you wanna make music thats ill or do you want to make music that evokes the masses. You know what George Lincoln Rockwell said? I quote, I quote, ‘The masses of people will not study! They read comic books, they looks to go see the TV, they like to read dime-novels, and they will not study like us nazis do. The masses of people liked being entertained and everything you give the must be sugarcoated.’ I repeat, ‘sugarcoated’. “Nansta if you want to make a bettah chune, it can’t be sugarcoated! Aight? Stop makin chunes what they like and make songs that mean somethin, got dat!?”. Gerald finished, “Rockwell, dats who you should respect, Rockwell, mah hero!”

It was silent for a bit. Nana computed his criticism. “Your a nice boyfriend! How’s about a game of Mahjong?” Gerald got off the table, “Bitch-ass computer, don’t mean shit. Aight you shuffle this time.” Gerald stayed for the second game. Nana was his best friend.