CassandraGreek Prophet / Metaphor

When I first moved away to college, I had a mysterious neighbor who never left her room. Her roommates told me that her name was Cassandra, she was agoraphobic and that she rarely ventured out. I didn’t really care until classes started and I learned that she was in most of mine. Nonetheless, she never left her room, even to go to class.

Being the nosy neighbor that I was, I decided to stakeout her apartment one weekend. Her roommates told me that they’d all be away, so I figured that if I heard their front door, it would have to be her. As the days rolled by and I heard nothing, I even went so far as to sit outside and read within view of their door. None of it worked.

Late on Sunday afternoon, just as I finally gave up, I decided to peer in to the apartment window. This was harder than it sounds. The apartment was on the second floor and only a small flight of stairs led to its front door. The window was next to the front door and had absolutely nothing under it. To look in, one would have to climb the railing of the stairs, lean over, and brace themselves on the windowsill. It would be difficult, dangerous and look extremely suspicious; nonetheless I ended up doing it.

When I peeked through the window, I saw a figure of a young woman in the apartment. I knocked on the door. It startled the woman. She turned to the window, saw me, and shrieked. She ran for her room and shut the door.

I dismounted the railing and sat on the landing that both our front doors shared. For a minute, I contemplated exactly what I was going to say to the police when they arrived. Then, the door opened. A girl with freckles and long-brown hair peered out and said “hi.”

“I’m sorry, I thought everyone had gone home,” I said.

“They did, just me,” she said, brushing away her hair. “I’m Cassandra.”

“The prophet of Troy?” I asked, I’d been saving it for a while. It didn’t sound as clever as I thought it would.

“Yes,” she smiled. “Do you want to come in and blaze?” she asked me. With that I realized that one way or another I had met someone who would change my life.

* * *
We went to her apartment's common room. She went to the couch and began packing a small pipe. I looked around the apartment then sat down next to her. “Why didn’t you go back home?"

I shrugged. “I guess I thought I’d meet some people on campus.”

“That’s cool,” she said, taking the green hit from the pipe and then handing it to me.

“…so you can see the future then?” I asked. She nodded. “That’s got to be pretty rough.” She nodded again. “People still don’t believe you?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t warn people anymore. There’s no point. It just causes them harm, no matter what I do.”

“Is that why you stay inside?”

She nodded and tears began welling in her brown eyes. “I tried. It’s like everyone else is blind and only I can see the train coming. I feel like I’m supposed to help them get out of the way, but they just won’t listen.”

“But you can’t help them; that’s part of your curse, right?”

“I know,” she dropped her head. “It’s hard to make friends when all you see in people in the way they die.”

I looked up at the ceiling. “Well, I know exactly how I’m going to die. Does that make it any easier for you?”

“Well I don’t know…” she said, looking into my eyes. She jolted, then looked confused, “…I don’t get it, why?”

“I’m a big Natalie Wood fan,” I said, with a goofy smile. She laughed. I took another hit from the pipe. “So then are you thousands of years old?”

“No. I’m the reincarnation of Cassandra.”

“Ohhhh, reincarnation,” I said, nodding as if any of it really made more sense than the rest. “And do you only see how people die?”

“No, I see all time at once.”

“Well that’s a bitch,” I said.

“I know,” she smiled.

“So then how does it all end?”

“With a handshake,” she said.

“Is that prophecy or a movie quote?”

“From where I stand, there’s no difference.”

“That’s way fucked up,” I said. She laughed again, less this time, and took another hit.

There was enough of a lull in the conversation after her laughter that she decided to get up and put on some music. It was a CD of avant-garde jazz. She came back to the table, smiled, and handed me the pipe.

“I can’t quite get a handle on this kind of jazz,” I told her. “I like a lot of different kinds of jazz, but this stuff is just all over the place. I don’t know how people can really enjoy it.”

“You give me this CD in a year’s time,” she said.

“What?”

“In a year, you give me this CD as a gift,” she stated. “That’s where I first learned about it.”

I sat there stunned for a moment, contemplating her words. “It works like that? That’s fucking crazy!” I boomed. She looked away and said nothing. “Well okay, what’s the CD? I’d better learn it now,” I said, reaching for the CD case.

She snatched the case away, “No, you don’t get to know. You have to choose it for yourself.”

“You’re a tricky one, Cassandra,” I said and then took another hit.

“Just Cass.”

“Here’s a question that nobody likes: what do you like to do for fun?”

“I like to get high then watch movies or listen to music or something,” she said.

I looked at her in disbelief, “oh you’re something special alright…”

“Thanks,” she said in a bored tone. I frowned.

“So is it just pointless for me to try and flatter you, Cass?” I said.

“It is,” she said. She came over and sat next to me. As I looked into her eyes, she leaned in and gave me a quick kiss. She pulled away. I smiled at her. Her grin was a lot wider. I went in to kiss her, but she jumped up and sat on an opposing chair. “And that’s as far as we will ever get.”

I frowned, “Well that takes the fun out of it, now doesn’t it?”

“Welcome to my world,” she said. “But now the real question is: knowing that, does it change everything?”

I thought for a minute, “I don’t know. Does it?”

She shrugged while holding in a hit. “I can’t answer that, it’s really up to you.”

“Oh,” I said. “I figured that you could… you know, you could see in to the future and know if telling me that eventually changes what I do.”

“Honestly,” she said, handing me the pipe, “I was trying to be flirty. I don’t think it came off right. I’m sorry.”

“Oh… well that was me trying to flirt back, so I guess we both suck at it.” We both laughed. “…but seriously, never more than a little kiss, huh?”

She looked up at me, about to answer, when we heard the front door unlock. I turned and saw two of her roommates coming back from being home for the weekend. They saw me and stopped in their tracks. As I said, “hey,” I heard the door to Cassandra’s room close. When I turned back, she was gone, of course. I didn’t see her again for months.

And that was the first time I smoked with, and tried to score with, the prophet of the downfall of Troy.

Matthew McConaughey Actor

Back in April, I was involved in an anti-drilling protest in the Gulf of Mexico. After assembling in Venice, Louisiana, our group took a small flotilla of zodiacs, small yachts and a fishing trawler to an oil platform about 50 miles off the coast. It seemed like a lot of fun at first; like corsairs of an earlier age, riding the high seas looking for adventure. After a few early-morning hours we arrived at the oil platform and stormed it in flawless pirate fashion. Brandishing clever signs and shouting rehearsed slogans, we took the high ground.

The crew of the oil rig, watched our antics for a few moments, and then continued on with their work. They were our only audience. There were supposed to be camera crews from the associated press, but it seemed like they were a no-show. Some arguments broke out amongst our ranks regarding how nobody else thought to bring video equipment. One of the oil workers interrupted us by asking if we were with the other protesters. He explained that the oil rig was already being hi-jacked by another group of activists.

On the other side of the rig, we found a group of about two dozen people dressed in makeshift cardboard sea turtle costumes. They had a camera crew, a bullhorn, and appeared very well organized. As we approached them, we learned via bullhorn that “…the activities associated with developing offshore oil and gas resources seriously disrupts and even destroys the nesting and foraging habitats of sea turtles.” They went on to explain that offshore drilling is just one of the many threats that humanity has imposed on these critically endangered turtles.

As we got to the turtle activists, one of our protest organizers interrupted them and began to argue with their organizers over the scheduling issue. As both groups of protesters stood around waiting for new orders, they decided to do what they knew best. Slowly at first, they began to wave signs and shout slogans at each other, and within minutes it had turned into a full-scale demonstration-off. Our side was at a disadvantage since we didn’t have a bull-horn or costumes, so someone decided to even the odds by throwing a shoe, which clocked the turtle holding the bull-horn right in the face, knocking him over. I watched as the scene turned into an all out melee.

I tried to get away from the violence, ducking around the outskirts of the battle until I found a clear route out. In front of me, one of the anti-drilling protesters curb-stomped a downed sea turtle protester and then ran off. I went to help the turtle activist, but was grabbed by two other turtles, who hauled me to the side of the rig. As they were about the heave me over the side, someone shouted: “STOP!”

I turned and saw that it was Matthew McConaughey, shirtless and carrying a set of bongo drums. Matteo, who had arrived with the sea turtles, explained he was playing hacky sack on the helipad until he heard the scuffle. He reasoned with us, that protesters didn’t need to fight amongst themselves when the real threat is what they’re protesting. The turtles put me down. A round of applause for Matteo broke out from everyone on the rig. He then started a bongo drum circle on that exact spot.

* * *
Hours later the sun was rising and the drum circle was still going strong. Hoping to smoke a quick bowl, I left the drum circle and went to a remote area near the helipad. I pulled out a poorly-wrapped joint that I’d been saving all day. As I made my first attempt to light the joint on the windy deck of the oil rig, I realized that I was way under prepared for what I was attempting. Then, while trying to form a shelter around the lighter with my body, someone put a silver lighter in my face, lit it with spectacular effect, and then proceeded to light my joint for me. When I looked up, I saw the man holding the lighter was McConaughey.

“You need some help, bro?” he asked.

“I think I’m good now,” I said, causing the joint to fall out of my mouth and then be taken far out to sea by the wind. McConaughey laughed.

“Y’all wanna see something really cool?” he asked me. I nodded. He reached into the pocket of his cargo shorts and drew a small plastic cylinder that then telescoped out to about a foot in length. Matteo capped one end, inserted a bowl and piece into the side, and said: “voila.”

“Awesome,” I said. “We just need some water.”

“I don’t have any. Do you?” McConaughey asked me completely straight-faced. It freaked me out. “Well don’t that just beat all. Surrounded by water and we got no water for the bong…” he smiled, “…watch this.” He let out a piercing whistle and then called out: “water bottle!”

A few moments later a gangly college kid showed up with a fresh bottle of water in hand. Matteo took it, thanked the kid, winked at him, drank half the bottle and then filled the bong with the rest. The kid walked off.

“Who was that?” I asked.

“A water bottle guy,” he said with a shrug. “Hire them for parties, protests, events, whatever… and they just keep handing you bottles of water whenever you’re thirsty. I just found out about them last week. It’s cheap too, bro. I think they do it for college credit or something. I don’t know.
“…Anyway, let me introduce you to Captain Bowlsworth,” he said, packing the bong from a baggie that he suddenly produced. “The good captain is always there when you need him, alright?” I nodded. He took a hit and held it.

“That lighter is pretty awesome,” I said. “Where’d you get that?”

“Outer space, man… space, man…. spaceman,” McConaughey cracked up, spewing smoke everywhere. “But nah man, seriously, Buzz Aldrin gave it to me… first man in space himself. He told me the damn thing works anywhere, even in outer space… man.”

“When did you meet him?”

“Aw man, he was just there on the set of EDtv… like a technical advisor or something.” He laughed. “You know, for the whole part at the end where it was all on some space station and there was this dude who was gonna drop some virus on Earth. It was pretty cool. There were all kinds of special effects and lasers and that big bro with the metal teeth.”

“Are you sure, because that sounds an awful lot like the end of Moonraker?” I asked.

“Maybe… I don’t know,” he laughed. “Was I in that?”

“No. Not at all.”

McConaughey laughed. “Moonraker… wow… what were we talking about?”

I thought for a moment. “I don’t really remember,” I said.

“I’ll blaze to that,” Matteo said, taking a hit from the Captain. “What do you do bro? Are you like a professional activist; doing your thing, saving the world?”

“No, I just smoke a lot of weed,” I told him.

He nodded, “I can get behind that.”

“…I’m a writer too. It’s not professional or anything; just a hobby.”

“Well now don’t that just beat all,” he said, slapping his thigh. “I’m in talks for making a comedy on the FX; maybe I can run some ideas past you. How about that?”

“Sure,” I said. “I mean, that’s really more of a producer thing, not really what I do, but yeah… shoot.”

“Alright,” he said, putting down the bong. “So this guy Fred is living in Hawaii with... get this... a rhinoceros.” I nodded. “The rhinoceros is named Randy and works as a dentist—”

“Hold on a minute,” I interrupted. “Is this a cartoon?”

“No.”

“Alright…” I scratched my head, “…so how are you going to do the rhinoceros? Is it like a puppet?”

McConaughey shrugged. “He’s just a Rhino. It’s like that Family Guy show with the talking dog; it’s funny. Folks aren’t gonna question it.”

“Okay right. That’s a cartoon though… You haven’t actually talked to anyone about this yet, have you?”

“No,” he said.

“Right…” I said, deciding not to finish my sentence. Trying not to be rude, I couldn’t think of what to say next.

“Just say it,” Matteo said. “If you’ve got a suggestion, let’s hear it.”

“You’ve got to drop the rhino.”

He waved his hands. “No way. The rhino is the whole project. Without the rhino, there’s nothing—”

“It just doesn’t make any sense. You’ve got a live-action rhino doing dentistry; people aren’t just going to accept that. Viewers will be confused.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, man,” McConaughey said, getting up. “I appreciate the input though, you’re alright.” We pounded fists.

“Thanks for the light,” I said to him, as he walked away.

He turned. “This old thing?” he asked, looking at his lighter. He smiled and tossed it to me. I went to catch the lighter, but realized that I was dangerously close to the edge of the platform. The lighter missed my hand, clipped a railing causing it to light, and then plunged into the Gulf of Mexico.

McConaughey joined me to watch the lighter plummet into the water while still lit. As it disappeared beneath the waves, we looked at each other.

“You don’t think it really stays lit anywhere, do you?” I asked. He shrugged. As I looked down, I noticed something peculiar. “What happened to your other shoe?”

“Hmmm? Oh hey, I’m missing a shoe. Must have slipped off playing hacky sack. I’d better get going.” He said, walking off. “You keep on writing, man. Okay?”

“Sure,” I said, and then went back to staring down into the Gulf of Mexico, where the lighter had just vanished.

We left the deep-sea drilling rig Deepwater Horizon at about 9:30am on April 20th of this year. And that was the time that I smoked a bowl with Matthew McConaughey and possibly started the greatest ecological disaster in history. McConaughey is still developing a scripted comedy for FX. There is no word at this time on whether or not it contains a rhino.