The DDT Interview, Part II

Dick: What was the reason for fleeing?

Meyer: (finishes beer) The real reason was that we had found a cool pad for $100 per person per month out in the Ames suburbs; I believe the address was 2104 Jensen Avenue. We would be moving in with Wayne-O, whom I had profiled in an Interesting People on the Fringe article last summer. And in keeping with the Immaculate Village tradition, I christened the place Fortress Immacula. Of course, the myth version of our flight was due to Immaculate Village being overrun by Xarlons, who were now coming into their own as the nemesis of the Stingray Regime. In a sense, this was also true, in that with the return of the conformist factions within the fraternity house, we would have had an unpleasant time of things, as was evident a year later when yours truly returned for a year. Do you want another beer?

Dick: No thanks, I’m OK.

Meyer: Don’t mind me then. (gets up to get another beer)

Dick: Why do you consider Fortress Immacula the “high point” of the Stingray Regime?

Meyer: Looking back, I think it was the high point. The whole Immaculate Village –> Fortress Immacula -> Victoriaville cycle reminded me of the cycles that cultures go through, you know, growth, followed by high culture, and lastly, decadence and decline. The last time that you had most of the regime living under one roof was Fortress Immacula. And it wasn’t just a place, it was a way of life.

Dick: What made it a way of life?

Meyer: Probably the fact that no matter what time it was, there was always a party to be had at the Fortress. It was a good time. (takes long drink)

Dick: Describe the Fortress for me.

Meyer: Well, it was your standard suburban ranch house, attached garage, two fireplaces, uncivilized backyard…

Dick: An uncivilized backyard?

Meyer: Yeah, mainly as we weren’t into the standard suburban lawn care of fertilization, pesticide and herbicide. Our motto was mow and let grow.

Dick: That had to be popular with the neighbors.

Meyer: Oh, of course, most of them loved us. We would talk shop with Turf Lawnderson, the Norwegian grass specialist across the street, and in watching our neighbor, the Hunchback, grope around her flower bed, we picked up a few pertinent garden tips. The next door neighbor, however, hated us with a passion, mainly as some of our visitors drove across his lawn from time to time. I remember one morning when Greg Smith, a.k.a. Blitzkrieg Bob, the Consistent Visitor, was rapping on my downstairs door, telling me to come talk to said angry neighbor at the front door. I refused.

Dick: What happened then?

Meyer: I think Greg did some kind of song and dance to keep him from pressing charges. Evidently, someone had driven over a shrub of his or something like that.

Dick: I see.

Meyer: He was just looking for something to get us on, probably as we had pilfered all of our fireplace wood from his pile during the winter. At first, we were discreet, but soon you didn’t have to be Davey Crockett to notice the tracks in the snow.

Dick: How did the whole Stingray Regime storyline develop during the time at Fortress Immacula?

Meyer: It really took off, especially on our covert missions into the Xarlon Metroplex, which was Des Moines. When you drive down Interstate 35 between Ames and Des Moines, you notice the huge television transmission towers to the west at Alleman. When the two blinking towers line up, you have crossed our power grid protecting Fortress Immacula and are now in Xarlon territory. That required, on our part, holograms to disguise our true identities. At first, they were primitive, stick your finger in the ear kind of stuff, but they got better with the introduction of Mr. Hologram. Other characters like Gonar, Drugmaster, and Technomaster really came into their own during our trips to the Metroplex.

Dick: So the power grid protected you at Fortress Immacula from the Xarlons?

Meyer: For the most part. Although there were Xarlons in our vicinity, they were pretty much powerless within the power grid. There was only one enemy of the regime within the power grid who could render us powerless.

Dick: And who was that?

Meyer: The evil, turbaned monkey of Whiskey River, of course. Years before the evil, turbaned Osama bin Laden and his ilk, there was the evil, turbaned Monkey. He is likely still there today.

Dick: What is Whiskey River?

Meyer: It is a bar in downtown Ames. It was once famous for its Texas, half-pound cheeseburgers and fries, the perfect late Friday afternoon fare, accompanied by ice cold Budweiser longnecks, the official beer of the Stingray Regime.

Dick: And the monkey resides there?

Meyer. Yeah, in the back room. Or at least he did. Perhaps Gonar can get photographic proof on a mission someday. No hologram could deceive that bastard. We were powerless before him.

Dick: Is he a Xarlon then?

Meyer: No, something far more wretched, a putrid, stinking evil. (takes swig) Are you sure you don’t want another beer?

Dick: I guess I’ll have another.

Meyer: Good. (gets up to get him beer) This Rauchbier grows on you. The first is a bit like drinking a canned ham, but after that, it is groovy.

Dick: I kind of gathered that.

Meyer: (hands him opened beer) Here. We got kind of off track, into a history of the Regime.

Dick: Yes, I wanted to ask you more about the blog in general. One year has gone by, and your readership continues to grow. To what do you attribute this growth?

Meyer: Bra and panty shots of young girls.

Dick: Oh, come on, I think it is more than that.

Meyer: Well, I still play to a pretty limited audience. There is the family, who tunes in to be amazed and offended by the outrageous behavior of their estranged, or strange uncle. And then there are the old Regime members, grasping at memories of days gone by or whatever. And, of course, you have the random visitor from Portugal or China, who has nothing better to do than to visit as many boring blogs as possible. Like I said, Dick, for me it is mainly therapy, a journal of sorts, a way for me to record my weird thoughts.

(to be continued)