Still Life by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Still Life

Page 200

One insists that it is race based, inviting further annotation.

One objecting demonstrator tries to start a chant, singing; “Let’s Go Brandon,” knowing everyone will “hear” something else; something less safe.

The chant stumbles at first-half-hearted echoes, a few confused glances. But then the crowd catches the rhythm, not the words. It's not "Brandon" they're repeating, not really. It's the ritual of refusal, the coded defiance, the shared wink that turns language into camouflage, prompted by collective disgust.

A nearby vendor selling hot dogs pauses mid-squeeze, mustard arcing like a question mark. A police officer shifts his weight, eyes scanning for intent beneath irony. The chant morphs, not louder, but stranger. Someone adds a tambourine. Another, a kazoo. The sound becomes less slogan, more séance.

A woman in a trench coat begins scribbling in a notebook labeled "Glossary of the Unclear." She writes:

Brandon (n.): A placeholder for unspeakable dissent.

Chant (v.): To summon ambiguity through repetition.

Safe (adj.): A term rendered obsolete by tonal mischief.