Fakes: An Anthology of Pseudo-Interviews, Faux-Lectures, Quasi-Letters, Found Texts, and Other Fraudulent Artifacts Read online

  A FINAL NOTE

  This guide is incomplete. You knew that from the beginning (supposing you bothered to read the subtitle of this introduction) but we figured it was worth mentioning again. Even so, we hope it is a start. We hope that you will continue to support the creation of counterfeit texts, elaborate forgeries, and fraudulent artifacts, and that they will continue to beguile and sustain you.

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  Disclaimer

  David Means

  DISCLAIMER: NOTHING IN this story is true. All of the characters in this story are products of the writer’s imagination. Any likeness of these characters and the situation described herein to those in real life is purely coincidental. In the unlikely circumstance that one or more of the characters in this story bear any resemblance to those living or dead, please be forewarned that it is so out of random chance (any other kind being excluded). Although the events in this story were drawn from real circumstances, this is in all ways a work of the imagination. Perhaps there might be characters like Julie Row in real life; if so, the author would like to express, if necessary before a court of law, that this work came to fruition in his imagination and all said resemblances to her are matters of chance. In the unlikelihood that there is a young woman living in the Stonewood Condominiums who rolls her hair up in the old plastic kind of curlers—prickly pink rolls with pink clamp shells—and wears a fine hairnet over them while she sleeps, if there is someone matching that description, the author would like to deny any a priori knowledge of the fact; even if said Julie Row lived by herself, had a tabby named Marvin, and was on the night of July 15, 1991, the night of her murder, alone and sad and feeling the soft night breeze work through the screen; even if said Julie Row had once been with a guy named Rudy, and that Rudy had applied the hot, orange butt of his cigarette to the back of her wrist in a flaming moment (of panic and desire)—his version of some kind of religious sacrament—the author will bear no responsibility for similarities therein: thus if the said Julie Row, lying back on the couch, her flat white stomach exposed, the knot of her belly button—(an “outie”)—picks the phone up to call her mother, Mrs. Joanna Row of 415 Park Street, and says, “Mom it’s Julie, how you doing?” only to hear her mother’s sharp Middle-Western voice say, “Do I know someone by such a name?” and therefore flatly denying any human connection with her daughter, who just stares long into the phone receiver, holding it back, and then off at the blue flick of the television screen, and then outside at the flat asphalt parking lot where others such as her while away the last of a hot summer day—should, through some pure coincidences, this conversation exist in real life, the author would once again state: THIS WORK IS THE PRODUCT OF THE AUTHOR’S IMAGINATION, even if Mrs. Joanna Row lay down on her own divan after her phone was back in the cradle, her long, narrow face tight with a bitterness certain readers in Alma, Michigan, might recognize, and cried tears (of remorse and anger), such tears being similar to said person—in that case the author would, if necessary, bring to court expert testimony as to the preponderance of such tears in small towns (all over America). And if on July 15, 1991, said Julie Row, after listening to her mother’s words, having turned to the television and then back to those outside, spotted a guy named Bub leaning against his jacked-up Toyota four-wheeler with the boom box going, who had a thing for watching Julie in her white halter top when she hung by the pool, and who once, while Rudy (her current main squeeze) was diving beneath the glistening aqua-blue water, copped a quick feel from Julie, who turned, blushed, and in the process became aware one might assume of certain mortal certitudes broken in the course of hanging around with a guy like Rudy, around men like Bub—after said character has looked out the window, stands responding to a soft knock on the door, and straightens the edges of her powder-blue terry shorts and pulls back on the hollow-centered door to reveal Bub himself; and should said character Bub, six-five, heavyweight, self-inflicted tattoos on his knuckles spelling BUB, with a small Fu Manchu—should said character actually exist in Alma, Michigan, with legal records corresponding to a man by that name tallying up several counts of aggravated assault, petty larceny, burglary, should someone by that name exist, and with said characteristics, the author would like to state, emphatically, that this unlikely resemblance between the product of his imagination and the world at large is PURELY AN ACT OF COINCIDENCE; and should it be brought to the court’s attention that on the said night of July 15, 1991, a man with the description above was seen standing at the door of apartment 12 of the Stonewood complex, while the sprinkler system went on, spraying skyward a vast mist spanning all four units of the complex facing westward, drawing from the asphalt and the grass a musty odor, dank and rich, consuming those hanging around their cars, including Bub, with a sudden, short-lived memory flash of bygone summer days when the combination of dry earth and sudden rain brought out a dreamy primal memory of days when kids ran through barley fields, broke back cornstalks, and lay at times for no good reason facedown on sweet grass and listened to the earth move—a time when rain and dry earth shattered each other; days, this memory flash held, when there was an innocence to be spoken of—should said Bub have stood at the door under these conditions, the author would, again, like it to be clearly known that this work is purely a product of his imagination; although certain details have been drawn from REAL LIFE, ANY RESEMBLANCE TO PERSONS LIVING OR DEAD OR OTHERWISE IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL. AMEN.

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  George Saunders

  Mrs. Ruth Faniglia

  210 Lester Way

  Rochester, NY 14623

  Dear Mrs. Faniglia,

  We were very sorry to receive your letter of 23 Feb., which accompanied the I CAN SPEAK!™ you returned, much to our disappointment. We here at KidLuv believe that the I CAN SPEAK!™ is an innovative and essential educational tool that, used with proper parental guidance, offers a rare early-development opportunity for babies and toddlers alike. And so I thought I would take some of my personal time (I am on lunch) and try to address the questions you raised in your letter, which is here in front of me on my (cluttered!) desk.

  First, may I be so bold as to suggest that some of your disappointment may stem from your own, perhaps unreasonable, expectations? Because in your letter, what you indicated, when I read it, was that you think and/or thought that somehow the product can read your baby’s mind? Our product cannot read your baby’s mind, Mrs. Fanig-lia. No one can read a baby’s mind. At least not yet. Although we are probably working on it! What the I CAN SPEAK!™ can do, however, is recognize familiar aural patterns and respond to these patterns in a way that makes baby seem older. Say baby sees a peach. If you or Mr. Faniglia (I hope I do not presume) were to loudly say something like: “What a delicious peach!” the I CAN SPEAK!™, hearing this, through that hole, that little slotted hole near the neck, might respond by saying something like: “I LIKE PEACH.” Or: “I WANT PEACH.” Or, if you had chosen the ICS2000 (which you did not, you chose the ICS1900, which is fine, perfectly good for most babies) the I CAN SPEAK!™ might even respond by saying something like: “FRUIT, ISN’T THAT ONE OF THE MAJOR FOOD GROUPS?”

  Which would be pretty good for a six-month-old, don’t you think, which my Warranty Response shows is the age of your son Derek, Derek Faniglia?

  But here I must reiterate: That would not in reality be Derek speaking. Derek would not in reality know that a peach is a fruit, or that fruit is a major food group. The I CAN SPEAK!™ knows it, however, and, from its position on Derek’s face, gives the illusion that Derek knows it, by giving the illusion that Derek is speaking out of its twin moving SimuLips™. But that is it. That is all we claim.

  Furthermore, in your letter, Mrs. Faniglia, you state that the I CAN SPEAK!™ “mask” (your terminology) takes on a “stressed-out look when talking that is not what a real baby’s talking face appears like but is more like some nervous middle-aged woman.” Well, maybe that is so, but with all due respect (and I say this with affection), you try it! You try making a latex face
look and talk and move like the real face of an actual live baby! Inside are over 5,000 separate circuits and 390 moving parts. And as far as looking like a middle-aged woman, we beg to differ. We do not feel that a middle-aged stressed-out woman has (1) no hair on head and (2) chubby cheeks and (3) fine downy facial hair. The ICS1900 unit is definitely the face of a baby, Mrs. Faniglia, we took over 2,500 photos of different babies and, using a computer, combined them to make this face on your unit, and on everybody else’s unit, the face we call Male Composite 37 or, affectionately, “Little Roger.” But what you possibly seem to be unhappy about is the fact that Little Roger’s face is not Derek’s face? To be frank, Mrs. Faniglia, many of you, our customers, have found it disconcerting that their baby looks different with the I CAN SPEAK!™ on, than with the I CAN SPEAK!™ off. Which we find so surprising. Did you not, we often wonder, look at the cover of the box? The ICS1900 is very plainly shown, situated on a sort of rack, looking facewise like Little Roger, albeit Little Roger is a bit crumpled and has a forehead furrow of sorts.

  Which is why we came up with the ICS2100. With the ICS2100, your baby looks just like your baby. And because we do not want anyone to be unhappy with us, we would like to make you the gift of a complimentary ICS2100 upgrade! We would like to come to your house on Lester Way and make a personalized plaster cast of Derek’s real, actual face! And soon, via FedEx, here will come Derek’s face in a box, and when you slip that ICS2100 over Derek’s head and Velcro the Velcro, he will look nearly exactly like himself, plus we have another free surprise, which is that, while at your house, we will tape his actual voice and use it to make our phrases, the phrases, Derek will subsequently say. So not only will he look like himself, he will sound like himself, as he crawls around your home, appearing to speak!

  Plus we will throw in several personalizing options.

  Say you call Derek “Lovemeister.” (I am using this example from my own personal home, as my wife Ann and I call our son Billy “Lovemeister,” because he is so sweet.) With the ICS2100, you might choose to have Derek say—or appear to say—upon crawling into a room, “HERE COMES THE LOVEMEISTER!” or “STOP TALKING DIRTY, THE LOVEMEISTER HAS ARRIVED!” How we do this is, laser beams coming out of the earlobes, which sense the doorframe! From its position on the head of Derek, the I CAN SPEAK!™ knows it has just entered a room! And also you will have over one hundred Discretionary Phrases to more highly personalize Derek. You might choose to have Derek say on his birthday, for example, “MOMMY AND DADDY, REMEMBER THAT TIME YOU CONCEIVED ME IN ARUBA?” (Although probably you did not in fact conceive Derek in Aruba. That we do not know. Our research is not that extensive.) Or say your dog comes up and gives Derek a lick? You might make Derek say (if your dog’s name is Queenie, which our dog’s name is Queenie): “QUEENIE, GIVE IT A REST!”

  Which you know what? Makes you love him more. Because suddenly he is articulate. Suddenly he is not just sitting there going glub glub glub while examining a piece of his own feces on his own thumb, which is something we recently found our Billy doing. Sometimes we have felt that our childless friends think badly of us for having a kid who just goes glub glub glub in the corner while looking at feces on his thumb. But now when childless friends are over, what we have found, Ann and I, is that there is something great about having your kid say something witty and self-possessed years before he or she would actually in reality be able to say something witty or self-possessed. The bottom line is, it’s just fun, when you and your childless friends are playing cards, and your baby suddenly blurts out (in his very own probable future voice): “IT IS VERY POSSIBLE THAT WE STILL DON’T FULLY UNDERSTAND THE IMPORT OF ALL OF EINSTEIN’S FINDINGS!”

  Here I must admit that we have several times seen a sort of softening in the eyes of our resolute childless friends, as if they too would suddenly like to have a baby.

  And as far as what you said, about Derek sort of flinching whenever that voice issues forth from him? When that speaker near his mouth sort of buzzes his lips? May I say this is not unusual? What I suggest? Try putting the ICS on Derek for a short time at first, maybe ten minutes a day, then gradually building up his Wearing Time. That is what we did. And it worked super. Now Billy wears his even while sleeping. In fact, if we forget to put it back on after his bath, he pitches a fit. Sort of begs for it! He starts to say, you know, “Mak! Mak!” (Which we think is his word for mask.) And when we put the mask on and Velcro the Velcro, he says—or it says rather, the ICS2100 says—“GUTEN MORGEN, PAPA!” because we have installed the German Learning module. Or, for example, if his pants are not on yet, he’ll say: “HOW ABOUT SLAPPING ON MY ROMPERS SO I CAN GET ON WITH MY DAY!” (I wrote that one, having done a little stand-up in my younger days.)

  My point is, with the ICS2100, Billy is much, much cleverer than he ever was with the ICS1900. He has recently learned, for example, that if he dribbles a little milk out his mouth, down his chin, his SimuLips™ will issue a MOO sound. Which he really seems to get a kick out of! I’ll be in the living room doing a little evening paperwork and from the kitchen I’ll hear, you know, “MOO! MOO! MOO!” And I’ll rush in, and there’ll be this sort of lake of milk on the floor. And there’ll be Billy, dribbling milk down his chin, until I yank the cup away, at which time he bellows: “DON’T FENCE ME IN!” (Ann’s contribution—she was raised in Wyoming.)

  Mrs. Faniglia, I, for one, do not believe that any baby wants to sit around all day going glub glub glub. My feeling is that a baby, sitting in its diaper, looking around at the world, thinks to itself, albeit in some crude nonverbal way: What the heck is wrong with me, why am I the only one saying glub glub glub while all these other folks are talking in whole complete sentences? And hence, possibly, lifelong psychological damage may result. Now, am I saying that your Derek runs the risk of feeling bad about himself as a grown-up because as a baby he felt he didn’t know how to talk very good? It is not for me to say, Mrs. Faniglia, I am only in Sales. But I will say I am certainly not taking any chances with Billy. My belief is that when Billy hears a competent, intelligent voice issuing from the area near his mouth, that makes him feel excellent about himself. And it makes me feel excellent about him. Not that I didn’t feel excellent about him before. But now we can actually have a sort of conversation! And also—and most importantly—when that voice issues from his SimuLips™, he learns something invaluable, namely that, when he finally does begin speaking, he should plan on speaking via using his mouth.

  Now, Mrs. Faniglia, you may be thinking: Hold on a sec, of course this guy loves his I CAN SPEAK!™, he probably got his for free. But no, Mrs. Faniglia, I got mine for two grand, just like you. We get no discounts, so much in demand is the I CAN SPEAK!™, and in addition, our management strongly encourages us—in fact you might say they even sort of require us—to purchase and use the I CAN SPEAK!™ at home, on our own kids. (Or even, in one case, the case of a Product Service Representative who has no kids, on his elderly senile mom! And although, yes, she looks sort of funny with that Little Roger face on her frail stooped frame, the family has really enjoyed hearing all the witty things she has to say, so much like her old self!) Not that I wouldn’t use it otherwise. Believe me, I would. Since we upgraded to the ICS2100, things have been great, Billy says such wonderful things, while looking almost identical to himself, and is not nearly so, you know, boring as when we just had the ICS1900, which (frankly) says some rather predictable things, which I expect is partly why you were unhappy with it, Mrs. Faniglia, you seem like a very intelligent woman. When people come over now, sometimes we just gather around Billy and wait for his next howler, and just last weekend my supervisor, Mr. Ted Ames, stopped by (a super guy, he has really given me support, please let him know if you’ve found this letter at all helpful) and boy did we all crack up laughing, and did Mr. Ames ever start scribbling approving notes in his little green notebook, when Billy began rubbing his face very rapidly across the carpet, in order to make his ICS2100 shout: “FRICTION IS A COMMON AND USEFUL SOURCE OF
HEAT!”

  Mrs. Faniglia, it is nearing the end of my lunch, and I must wrap this up, but I hope I have been of service. On a personal note, I did not have the greatest of pasts when I came here, having been in a few scrapes and even rehab situations, but now, wow, the commissions roll in, and I have made a nice life for me and Ann and Billy. Not that the possible loss of my commission is the reason for my concern. Please do not think so. While it is true that, if you decline my upgrade offer and persist in your desire to return your ICS1900, my commission must be refunded, by me, to Mr. Ames, that is no big deal, I have certainly refunded commissions to Mr. Ames before, especially lately. I don’t quite know what I’m doing wrong. But that is not your concern, Mrs. Faniglia. Your concern is Derek. My real reason for writing this letter, on my lunch break, is that, hard as we all work at KidLuv to provide innovative and essential development tools for families like yours, Mrs. Faniglia, it is always sort of a heartbreak when our products are misapprehended. Please do accept our offer of a free ICS2100 upgrade. We at KidLuv really love what kids are, Mrs. Faniglia, which is why we want them to become something better as soon as possible. Baby’s early years are so precious, and must not be wasted, as we are finding out, as our Billy grows and grows, learning new skills every day.

  Sincerely yours,

  Rick Sminks

  Product Service Representative

  KidLuv Inc.

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  Stanley Crawford