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Show Acting Alone Page 81 these foreigners. Like for instance these weird little fishing villages. They were just as decadent as any rich neighborhood or slum in America, except they didn't enjoy the modern benefits of indoor plumbing or cable television. Nobody in these seaside villages married - there was inbreeding galore, resulting in people with chimpanzee feet. (You sell them your rubber thongs and they put the big toe strap right between the two middle toes, because their big toe is on the side like a chimpanzee-thumb.) And every night as you slept in the sand with or without your Shanny you could hear the bloody gurgles of an old fisherman being harpooned by his son, who's just found out that it's not a girlfriend he's been fucking but a sister. And everybody meanwhile would be limping or swimming by with these chimpanzee feet. It was almost as bad as smalltown polygamist Utah. What a place for Axelrad to study! Sam assumed that the little guy must be doing fieldwork at that secret encampment on Cheyenne Mountain, for one advanced degree or another. But Sam could not figure out why a school so reputedly advanced in the social sciences as the University of Chicago (or Houston? - same difference) would be sending its boys out to unhip Eastern Colorado after such passe local stuff. Indians, maybe? Sam had never seen nor heard tell of any tribes currently or formerly extant on the mountain. Tapioca farmers on the Amazon, or, even better, these hellish fishing villages around here would be more the thing for Sam's little Jewboy-buddy-from-wayback. In any case, Axelrad or no Axelrad, the non-surf god portion of Sam hated being outdoors in primitive places with cliffs and oceans and jungles in front and behind all the time, all coarse and gross and unimproved, like |