When I was a child I dreamed as all children do, of going to Disneyland. I would read books in the library and look at all of the pictures. Kids riding roller coasters, talking to Donald Duck, eating cookies and shaking hands with a robot Abraham Lincoln. I was absolutely fascinated by the Abraham Lincoln robot. It walked around and recited the Gettysburg address in a theater called “The Hall of Presidents” The books said that the robot was so lifelike that you couldn’t even tell it was a robot. Wow. Disney sure looked like a lot of fun. But my parents were never gonna take me. It was too expensive. Hell they weren’t even my real parents. So who could blame em. They didn’t have enough money to take me and their own kids as well. Blowing a bunch of money on some fucked up foster kid… that’s silly.
I remember sitting in school bored out of my mind. I would often times daydream about Disneyland. I’d fantasize about robot Abraham Lincoln kicking in the door and yelling, as he beat the holy shit out of Mrs. Lawton and half the class, “Come on Billy lets go! To California! To Disneyland!” and I would climb on his back and he’d knock the crap outta the other half of the class and then we’d hop in Lincolns Trans-Am and hit the open road for adventures. We’d go see Goofy and the ocean. We’d eat candy and live happily ever after in the Haunted Mansion. The End.
But it wasn’t the end. Robot Lincoln never showed up and my foster parents never took me to Disney. They did take me camping out in the woods one time and tell me they didn’t know if they could keep me or not, because I was bad… but that’s a Hallmark story for another time.
Don’t worry it all worked out in the end. I made it to California. Sure I was 27 yrs old and broke. But I had an old Buick station wagon, a snub nosed .38 revolver, some books and half a sheet of acid. I had a plan for old Robot Lincoln. He’d been assassinated once when he was alive, so I was sure his robot doppelganger could use the same kind of hospitality. And hell this way I could go out in some kind of crazy blaze of fucked up glory. Beats dying alone in some little dead end town. My plan was to give everyone in attendance at the “Hall of Presidents”, a communion (the acid) and then read em some Alan Watts while it kicked in. Then I’d blow Lincolns robot brains out when the fuzz busted in. A blaze of glory indeed. Bon Jovi would be proud.
And it would have been great too had I not gotten lost and my car broken down. Those old Buick wagons had great motors but lousy transmissions. So I stayed at some zen monastery. It was free and I was kinda into that sorta thing. I didn’t leave for 5 years and when I did it was with the abbot’s blessing. I’d decided to go back to the Midwest and start a new branch of the zen center. Out of curiosity I decided to visit Disney on my way out of town. Just to see. Just to take a peek.
It was funny standing in front of that glass case. Lincoln was no longer doing his Gettysburg address in the Hall of Presidents. No, now he was retired and was stripped down, his naked robot self on display for all to see. I too was naked, naked of all my anger and childhood issues.
I stood there in my orange robes chuckling softly to myself. I stood there so long that a guy came over and asked me if I was OK. I replied that I had never been calmer or clearer and that I was certainly glad that I was able to do this without any anger or hatred. I squeezed off the first round just a half inch or so below Lincolns left eye. The second bullet hit him square in the chin. Through the shattered glass I saw his eye pop out and sparks fly from his beard. The screams were just as I’d imagined. The guard was on me now and as he wrenched me to the ground I saw Lincoln beard catch fire and his head become engulfed in flames. I too was engulfed, engulfed in the peace and bliss that only a man who has truly achieved his destiny can feel. OMMMMMMM
