“So the marbles started in that trench. That was them banging each other up. Like war. Like football. Football is war. You need a helmet in both.”
Hucka D.:
The football player — Nietzsche is it? — is green and gold (green jersey and gold helmet and pants) and when we see him Pico or Alvarado say they’ve been shooting reds and yellows all day. Green and yellow become red and yellow. This is the equivalency of Frank and Herman Parks (for one thing). Map Rat, and the wedding of Frank and Herman and all. LINK Shooting seems also to refer to marbles, as you shoot marbles in a game of that name. Is it still my turn to talk?
bb:
Sure.
Hucka D.:
Then Nietzsche Nitschke still runs in the trench, and bangs his head against its walls, looking around at all 3 sides afterwards, apparently.
bb:
Cool.
Hucka D.:
But he is a marble. That’s the bottom line. Or his helmet is a marble. He gets dented up. He is an old school player. Green Bay.
bb:
Bob Underston.
Hucka D.:
Ed Edwardston.
The trench is his grave, like Addie’s. Head to foot. Helmeted head. Foot with an “e”. He gets frustrated; throws the helmet out of the trench toward the Monkee.
bb:
Peter. Peter the Monkee.
Hucka D.:
But then he still attempts to bang his now unhelmeted head against the end of the trench. But with the shift of the helmet from one head to another, the war has also shifted from football, a limited field like a limited area in a trench, to a bigger arena: the world. World war. And football has become war. Football per se is now ineffective as a…
bb:
Don’t say it.
Hucka D.:
Bloodletting.
bb:
Drat!
Sunklands 