Read Online The Ghost Network by Catie Disabato - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Catie Disabato
Ads: Link
right now, is that working for them?”
“They’re not paying me for this, if that’s what you mean.”
“I’m wondering if the New Situationists condone you and Nick speaking to me,” I said.
“They aren’t in charge of who we talk to. I mean, they aren’t in charge of who I talk to, they aren’t in charge of who Nick talks to anymore. They aren’t like that anymore. We’re just kind of … keeping some projects going. We’re kind of a skeleton crew.”
“Did they tell you to say that? Nick used the same phrase, ‘skeleton crew.’ ”
“That doesn’t come from them, Nick and I talk all the time. He said it to me once, I think.”
“And you don’t know who any of them are?” I asked.
“No, and I don’t care. Like I said, the money’s good. And legal. I had my lawyer make sure. Basically the New Situationists don’t exist anymore. Berliner says everyone really fell apart after Kraus was arrested. Don’t believe him when he implies that they’re still some big thing. He just wants them to be. He can’t give anything up.”
Taking into account my interviews with Berliner and Kraus, and the hostile tone of the letter I received from David Wilson when he rejected my request for an interview, I believe the New Situationists are masters of smoke and mirrors, and not much else. A group of young people got together, wanted to change the world, and latched onto the pseudo-academic ramblings of another man who’d wanted to change the world and failed. People consider them important and powerful only because of the firm devotion of all members to keep quiet, despite the personal consequences Kraus suffered. They have the appeal of a secret society. Berliner, an isolated teenager, was particularly susceptible to the charms of hidden knowledge. They taught him to make screen prints and how to draw maps, and then put him to work creating new secret cartographies. But if someone from the New Situationists decided to talk, I think the New Situationists would turn out to be less powerful than most people think they are. The silence and secrecy makes them special, but there isnothing behind the curtain but a few angry children and a poorly planned terrorist event.
Berliner obviously still harbors a deep sentimental attachment to both Kraus and the New Situationists. He agreed to speak with me only if I promised to include the following quote he prepared:
“The death in the L bombing was accidental and not considered a ‘casualty necessary to the betterment of their cause,’ as Marie-Hélène Kraus’s prosecuting lawyer argued. The plan was to make a revolution without bloodshed. Marie-Hélène Kraus is a killer but she isn’t a murderer. She isn’t morally corrupt.”
Berliner visits Kraus weekly at the Dwight Correctional Center, a maximum security prison for female violent offenders about an hour and a half outside of Chicago. He drives to the jail every Saturday, bringing with him a carton of cigarettes, nail polish, the cashmere cardigans from Nordstrom that Kraus likes best, and any magazines or books she requested the previous week. He doesn’t use his car for any other purpose; he bought it just to see her. Even though he’s taken other lovers, Berliner still considers himself Kraus’s boyfriend. They plan to get married as soon as she makes parole. I believe one of the main reasons Berliner agreed to speak with me at all was to lobby on Kraus’s behalf.
In Davis’s parents’ lakeside home, Davis finished recounting Berliner’s early years. Taer asked if they could open a third bottle of wine. Davis told her to go ahead, and flicked a lighter over and over again, to light another cigarette. With the new bottle of wine open and poured, Taer pushed Davis to move ahead to the parts of the story with Molly Metropolis.
Davis snapped back at her, “There’s some important stuff that comes before that, but I can skip it if you’re going to be a such a bitch about it.”
“Sorry,”
“They’re not paying me for this, if that’s what you mean.”
“I’m wondering if the New Situationists condone you and Nick speaking to me,” I said.
“They aren’t in charge of who we talk to. I mean, they aren’t in charge of who I talk to, they aren’t in charge of who Nick talks to anymore. They aren’t like that anymore. We’re just kind of … keeping some projects going. We’re kind of a skeleton crew.”
“Did they tell you to say that? Nick used the same phrase, ‘skeleton crew.’ ”
“That doesn’t come from them, Nick and I talk all the time. He said it to me once, I think.”
“And you don’t know who any of them are?” I asked.
“No, and I don’t care. Like I said, the money’s good. And legal. I had my lawyer make sure. Basically the New Situationists don’t exist anymore. Berliner says everyone really fell apart after Kraus was arrested. Don’t believe him when he implies that they’re still some big thing. He just wants them to be. He can’t give anything up.”
Taking into account my interviews with Berliner and Kraus, and the hostile tone of the letter I received from David Wilson when he rejected my request for an interview, I believe the New Situationists are masters of smoke and mirrors, and not much else. A group of young people got together, wanted to change the world, and latched onto the pseudo-academic ramblings of another man who’d wanted to change the world and failed. People consider them important and powerful only because of the firm devotion of all members to keep quiet, despite the personal consequences Kraus suffered. They have the appeal of a secret society. Berliner, an isolated teenager, was particularly susceptible to the charms of hidden knowledge. They taught him to make screen prints and how to draw maps, and then put him to work creating new secret cartographies. But if someone from the New Situationists decided to talk, I think the New Situationists would turn out to be less powerful than most people think they are. The silence and secrecy makes them special, but there isnothing behind the curtain but a few angry children and a poorly planned terrorist event.
Berliner obviously still harbors a deep sentimental attachment to both Kraus and the New Situationists. He agreed to speak with me only if I promised to include the following quote he prepared:
“The death in the L bombing was accidental and not considered a ‘casualty necessary to the betterment of their cause,’ as Marie-Hélène Kraus’s prosecuting lawyer argued. The plan was to make a revolution without bloodshed. Marie-Hélène Kraus is a killer but she isn’t a murderer. She isn’t morally corrupt.”
Berliner visits Kraus weekly at the Dwight Correctional Center, a maximum security prison for female violent offenders about an hour and a half outside of Chicago. He drives to the jail every Saturday, bringing with him a carton of cigarettes, nail polish, the cashmere cardigans from Nordstrom that Kraus likes best, and any magazines or books she requested the previous week. He doesn’t use his car for any other purpose; he bought it just to see her. Even though he’s taken other lovers, Berliner still considers himself Kraus’s boyfriend. They plan to get married as soon as she makes parole. I believe one of the main reasons Berliner agreed to speak with me at all was to lobby on Kraus’s behalf.
In Davis’s parents’ lakeside home, Davis finished recounting Berliner’s early years. Taer asked if they could open a third bottle of wine. Davis told her to go ahead, and flicked a lighter over and over again, to light another cigarette. With the new bottle of wine open and poured, Taer pushed Davis to move ahead to the parts of the story with Molly Metropolis.
Davis snapped back at her, “There’s some important stuff that comes before that, but I can skip it if you’re going to be a such a bitch about it.”
“Sorry,”
Similar Books
