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    Helmet of Horror

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      Monstradamus

      So did you make a choice?

      Nutscracker

      How do you mean? Between corridors?

      Monstradamus

      Between candidates.

      Nutscracker

      I’m not really sure what position I’d be choosing the candidate for. Or what institution, or what term. Or how he’d be going to lead me out of the labyrinth, when the room has no doors or windows.

      Monstradamus

      He’ll lead you out through the television. How else? You of all people should understand that. Is there anything else you remember?

      Nutscracker

      I watched it all on fast forward, just listened to each one for about five minutes to get the general idea. As long as they’re talking it all seems interesting and new. Then you wind on the cassette and you’ve forgotten it all. Some American or other said that the labyrinth is the Internet. That it’s inhabited by a some being that hacks into the mind, and that’s the Minotaur. It’s not really a bull-man, it’s a spider-man. He said if there’s a worldwide web, then there must be a soul-sucking spider. He also explained why the Minotaur has two names. It seems that ‘Minotaur’ is the politically correct version of the name ‘Asterisk’. So every time we want to say ‘Asterisk’, we should say ‘Minotaur’. But then ‘Asterisk’ is the politically correct version of the name ‘Minotaur’, and every time we want to say ‘Minotaur’ we should say ‘Asterisk’. And so in principle we can use both names, only not when we want to, but the other way round. There was an interesting German who said that the Minotaur is the spirit of the time, the Zeitgeist , which has manifested itself in the form of mad cow disease, hence its symbolic representation in the form of a man with a bull’s head. Its counterpart in art is postmodernism, which is the mad cow disease of a culture forced to feed on its own powdered bones. And in politics it’s all that stuff you see and feel when you switch on the television. Then there was an Italian, dressed in black, who announced that the Minotaur – he said ‘Mondotaur’ – is a being whose physical body is the gross dollar supply. It’s stupid to believe that everything is controlled through money, he said – why through it and not by money itself? The Mondotaur is the evil spirit that reigns over the world, and compels every single one of us to wander aimlessly through the foul, stinking labyrinth of his intestines. And his two horns are … I’ve forgotten.

      Monstradamus

      It doesn’t matter, I can imagine.

      Nutscracker

      Then a priest with kind eyes spoke and explained that the creator of the labyrinth is also our saviour, who loves us greatly. In much the same way as we love little children, he said.

      Monstradamus

      And what proposals did they all have?

      Nutscracker

      It all came down to how many times to turn right and how many times to turn left, and in which order. Everyone wanted to do it his own way.

      Monstradamus

      Perhaps that’s the whole point. Not to think about where the way out is, but to realise that life is the crossroads where you’re standing at this precise moment. Then the labyrinth will disappear as well. After all it only exists as a complete whole in our minds, and in reality there is nothing but a simple choice – which way to go next.

      Nutscracker

      Uhuh. And the Minotaur won’t do anything to us, because the present ‘us’ will no longer exist when he catches up with us. One of them said that as well.

      Organizm(-:

      And now what’s outside your door, Monstradamus? It’s about time you told us, you’re the only one left.

      Monstradamus

      You’ll be disappointed, Organism.

      Nutscracker

      We’ll see. So what have you got?

      Monstradamus

      A dead-end.

      Nutscracker

      I don’t get it.

      Monstradamus

      A corridor a few metres long ending in a blank concrete wall with a single depressing graffito . Or at least I find it depressing. The imprint of a gigantic seal drawn in fluorescent lilac paint, like something on an official document from Hell. In the centre is the Roman numeral ‘VII’ and running out from it in a spiral is an endless string of symbols like the ones that street-gangs leave on walls. Nothing but zigzags, intricate curls, arrows and brackets – impossible to make out a single word. But all very suggestive.

      Nutscracker

      Just a dead-end?

      Monstradamus

      That’s all there is.

      Nutscracker

      All there is?

      Monstradamus

      Well, not quite. There’s a table standing against the wall directly under the seal. And a stool by the table. And on the table there’s a blank sheet of paper, a pencil and a pistol with a single bullet.

      Nutscracker

      What about the labyrinth?

      Monstradamus

      I think that starts afterwards.

      Organizm(-:

      Truly magnificent simplicity and elegance.

      Monstradamus

      There’s nothing for you to be envious of. You’ve got a dead-end too, only it’s longer and it has plywood partitions. And Nutcracker’s got a television instead of plywood. We’ve all got dead-ends. Only it’s not obvious straightaway, it just takes a little while.

      Nutscracker

      Maybe that’s the whole point – whether it’s obvious straightaway or not. Don’t you think the ‘little while’ it takes might just be life?

      Monstradamus

      Maybe so. But I’m fed up of these labyrinths you can’t get lost in or escape from. And all these Minotaurs with horns on their xxx who promise to lead us out to the stars in just a moment. I wonder what Theseus will see instead of all this. I’d give a lot to find out.

      Nutscracker

      What do you care what he’ll see?

      Monstradamus

      IMHO, Nutcracker, the possibility of escape is determined by whether you can see the way out or not.

      Nutscracker

      I already told you, for the Helmholtz that’s not exactly the way it is. The Helmholtz can see anything you like. Even the plan of his own helmet. For all the good it will do him.

      Monstradamus

      What I wonder is, has he got a head on his shoulders or a helmet of horror? Hey, Theseus! I know you can hear me!

      Nutscracker

      To be honest, Monstradamus, I used to think you were Theseus.

      Organizm(-:

      I was convinced Monstradamus was the Minotaur.

      Monstradamus

      I already told you, it all depends on which part of the separator labyrinth the bubble of hope was in when it burst.

      Sartrik

      Didn’t you ever think I was Theseus?

      Nutscracker

      Well hello, Sartrik! You know, not even once …

      Organizm(-:

      Somehow the idea never entered my head.

      Sartrik

      Organism, it’s clear from your userpic that you’re queer. Just look at that guilty smile and that gaping xxx.

      Organizm(-:

      That’s it, I’m going. You can talk to him.

      Nutscracker

      Sartrik, that isn’t a userpic. Perhaps we can call it a dialogue header. And that isn’t a gaping xxx, it’s a capital ‘O’.

      Sartrik

      Monstradamus just said – right? – that everything is determined by what you see. I take that to mean that if someone can see the answer to the most important question of all, then he is Theseus. Am I right, Monstradamus?

      Monstradamus

      Possibly. But exactly what is the most important question of all?

      Sartrik

      Let me explain. Have you noticed that we never exist simultaneously, only by turns?

      Monstradamus

      An interesting observation. You mean the writing on the screen?

      Sartrik

      I mean in general. Since you didn’t understand the question, I’ll ask it a different way. The helmet of
    horror is a machine. What does it run on? What does it have instead of petrol?

      Nutscracker

      He’s lost it, Monster. Delirium tremens . He needs a drip installed.

      Monstradamus

      Wait, Nutcracker. So what does it have instead of petrol?

      Nutscracker

      Vodka?

      Sartrik

      Why vodka? Do you think I’m a drunken xxx and I don’t understand a thing? Instead of petrol it has Theseus.

      Monstradamus

      Explain that, please.

      Sartrik

      You remember Ariadne looking into the mirror and seeing that hat with a veil, and afterwards she realised it was the helmet of horror? The petrol that the whole deal was running on was her, get it? Everything’s made out of the person who sees it. Because it can’t possibly be made out of anything else. Without the person there won’t be any hat or any veil, or any lilies-of-the-valley. Nothing. Get it? Theseus is the one who looks into the mirror, and the Minotaur is the one he sees, because he’s wearing a helmet of horror.

      Monstradamus

      You mean to say the Minotaur is just an illusion?

      Sartrik

      If you listened to what I’m saying, then you’d know what I’m trying to say. He sees this bronze phizog with horns on it because he sees himself in the mirror through the holes. Without Theseus there is no xxx Minotaur.

      Nutscracker

      Did you get that, Monster?

      Monstradamus

      Naturally. If you put on a Batman mask and look in the mirror, you’ll see Batman. But the mask will never see itself.

      Sartrik

      That’s it. The helmet of horror is simply the reflection that Theseus sees, and that’s all. But if he decides there really is a Minotaur and starts swearing blind at him and discussing the meaning of life with him, well that’s when the Minotaur appears. And how! And then there’s no way to get the helmet of horror off again. Get it now, you vermin? I know everything.

      Nutscracker

      I bet you he can see little pink Minotaurs running round the room. Now that’s the kind of labyrinth I understand! And no need to bother going anywhere.

      Monstradamus

      And why are we vermin?

      Sartrik

      Because you’re all nothing but bits and pieces of the helmet of horror. I figured that out ages ago. And that’s the real xxx killer, when you realise that absolutely everybody – all your friends and all your enemies – are just little bits and pieces! I’m not talking about you. Meaning you’re not my friends. And not my enemies. But you’re bits and pieces, all right. You, Monstradamus, and you, Nutcracker – you’re the horns. You’ll stick out a bit too far some day. Ariadne’s the labyrinth, but she’s not such a bad girl, she’s okay. Ugly’s the past that makes me want to puke. And Organism’s the future, that makes me want to puke five times worse. Who’s left? Romeo and that Isolde of his? They’re the double xxx that’s cooking up the whole xxx mess.

      Nutscracker

      And so you’re Theseus?

      Sartrik

      Yes. Because I never talk to you.

      Nutscracker

      What’s your proof?

      Sartrik

      That you’re all nothing but shadows, I’m the only one here that’s alive. You’re nothing but shackles on the convolutions of my brain. All your Rolls-Royces and Lolitas, Ferraris and Berlusconis, all your shaved and scented glamour, your magic wonderland TV quizzes, where you get shafted up the xxx every day underneath the money tree – you made it all out of my head! You do all that out of my head, and I’m nothing to you, but you’re the entire deal for me, eh? In my xxx head! But I’ll dump you all.

      Nutscracker

      Monster, maybe you understood some of that?

      Monstradamus

      I might have. But I’m not a hundred per cent certain.

      Nutscracker

      Translate from the Latin, will you?

      Monstradamus

      There’s quite a profound thought here. He’s trying to say the helmet of horror is the contents of the mind, which attempt to supplant the mind by proving that they – the contents – exist, and the mind in which they arise doesn’t. Or that the mind is no more than its function.

      Nutscracker

      Who are they trying to prove it to?

      Monstradamus

      Themselves. Certainly not the mind. The mind, as Sartrik puts it, couldn’t give a xxx.

      Nutscracker

      And where are they trying to prove it?

      Monstradamus

      What d’you mean, where? In the mind. Where else?

      Nutscracker

      This climb’s a bit too high without a bottle. For me at least.

      Sartrik

      Listen, Monstradamus, you’re some guy! The way you put that! I even understood it myself. Some mess, eh? If you think that thought through all the way to the end, all those English astrophysicists and the entire xxx Academy of Sciences should be thrown in the slammer!

      Monstradamus

      Why bother putting them away? Who cares about those buffoons.

      Sartrik

      Oho! You’re a hard case, aren’t you? Theseus, you’re Theseus, no two ways about it.

      Nutscracker

      You’re a real Theseus too, Sartrik. Maybe you’ve even found the way out?

      Sartrik

      A long time ago. Only there are these snakes crawling around in front of it. But when they crawl away I’ll leave.

      :-(( ))

      Monstradamus

      Ariadne! Good morning?

      Ariadne

      Good morning.

      Monstradamus

      Did you see the dwarf?

      Ariadne

      Yes.

      Monstradamus

      Tell me about it.

      Ariadne

      I was in the building on the square in front of the fountain. You remember, I told you about it. It looked dark and oppressive, as though there was a fire there a long time ago and afterwards they tried several times to fix it up, but they hadn’t been able to. It was the same inside. It felt like a camouflaged smouldering ruin. I can’t even say what it was that gave me the feeling. Everything was new, expensive and chic – like in those glass palaces they rent out for offices. The air was cool and clean, there wasn’t the slightest smell of burning in it at all. But somehow I felt if you took the oak panels off the walls you’d see all the stonework was blackened with smoke.

      Monstradamus

      How did you know it was the same building?

      Ariadne

      I went across to the window and looked out. Down below me was the fountain with the snakes where I saw Asterisk for the first time. There was a wide street with palms standing in tubs leading away from the fountain. The street ran out to the very edge of the city and ended at a huge triumphal arch strewn with yellow leaves. Standing on the ground in front of the arch was a bronze head that must have been the size of a truck. There was a stepladder leaning against its ear, and it had a gold star on its forehead with an inscription: ‘The Tomb of the Unknown Helmholtz’.

      Nutscracker

      How could you see all that through the window?

      Ariadne

      I just looked in that direction.

      Nutscracker

      And you could read the words at that distance?

      Ariadne

      What distances are there in a dream? There aren’t any except the ones you dream about. I dreamed there was that inscription on the monument’s forehead. I didn’t dream about any distances.

      Monstradamus

      That’s clear enough. What else did you see?

      Ariadne

      The further away from the main street, the fewer houses there were. The city boundary was a circular wall, and outside that there was a desert in various tones of beige. Further away still there were dark-blue mountains, or perhaps they were clouds in the sunset. I didn’t have time to look at anything else, because then one of the dwarves appeared in the corridor. He was in a hurry to get
    somewhere and looking quite aggressive – his loose robe was caught in with a belt that had a little sabre dangling on it. He didn’t stop, just gestured for me to follow him. We began climbing the stairs. I asked him a question, but he told me to keep quiet. He said his master was under threat – they wanted to kill him. And so all questions and answers were now being strictly documented. I asked who wanted to kill his master, but he muttered that the reply to that question had to be documented as well. We came to a large open area with identical shelves of files on all the walls – it looked like some kind of archive. There was a kind of double round table in the centre – about fifty centimetres above the table-top there was a smaller disc of wood that could rotate. They used to have something of the sort in old canteens so that people could move any dish within reach by turning the upper disc. The dwarf sat down at the table and pointed to the place opposite him. I sat down. On the table in front of me there was an inkwell with a genuine goose-quill pen and a file containing sheets of paper. The dwarf had an identical inkwell and file. He told me to write down my question and put the sheet of paper on the wooden disc. I wrote: ‘Who wants to kill the Minotaur?’ The quill actually wrote very easily, with a fine line. Meanwhile the dwarf took a sheet of paper out of his file and wrote something himself. We put the sheets of paper on the rotating wooden disc, the dwarf turned it through a hundred and eighty degrees, then he had my question in front of him and I had his answer. It was brief: ‘You already know’. And it was written on paper headed with a crest. Apparently he didn’t even need to read my question, he already knew it.

      Nutscracker

      Paper headed with a crest? What was the crest like?

      Ariadne

     


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