literární spot:Batman@Stealth.com

"Gotham City, 1953. Batman is lying in bed, wearing the famous “batmask,” complete with pointy ears. He’s listlessly playing with his cock. Is he masturbating? Flesh & Blood on October 15 last year (according to well-informed sources) claimed that Batman detested sperm, and, out of principle, refused to masturbate. On the other hand, Flesh & Blood, February 21 this year, described in detail the self-mutilating and fetishist practices Batman performed with the underwear he acquired from Pamela Degrado’s estate. He bought her entire estate specifically and only for her underwear. But (it’s said) Pamela D. never actually wore any of it. All the evidence indicates that she ordered it from a catalogue put out by the Gotham Kaufman mail order service on the day of her unfortunate death.
(Other sources claim that Pamela D. reached into her wardrobe and found underwear she didn’t recognize on the day she committed suicide. In a subsequent telephone conversation with a close friend she said the underwear had made her pregnant because it was allegedly “contaminated.” She confessed that she had to do something about it quickly. She said she could feel the baby moving in her belly. See Flesh & Blood, August 22 last year.)
Batman is lying in bed naked, listlessly “watching” TV (Gotham City boasts two public and two private channels, as you are no doubt aware). He flips through the Gotham Kaufman catalogue… scissors for removing nose hair, including batteries and a cleaning brush, price 345; Hydas Easy Free depilator, including batteries, price 1,095; electronic darts with accessories: double in/double out handicap programming, 30 extra darts, network adapter 230 V, price 1,995; Tahiti 200 fitness machine, solid steel construction, manual arm curl, overhead press, price 11,990; projection radio alarm clock, digital/analogue, alarm and snooze modes with adapter, price 1,695; wireless desktop fan, diameter 50 cm, price 2,895; deep fryer with double thermostat, metal fat filter, automatic dribbler, temperature-indicating light, price 2,995; men’s socks, dark blue, brown, green, carbon, black, anti-static…. Batman thinks how incredibly complex the world has become over the past few years.
Not long ago Gotham’s Flesh & Blood ran an inch-tall headline reading: “Batman declares his apartment ‘bacteria- and germ-free zone.’” The multi-millionaire and multi-humanist Pantopon Batman had locked himself (they say) into complete isolation in his palace in Gotham Hills because of his phobia of
infection from pathogenic germs. The truth is that Batman spends most of his time naked, and he only touches things using paper towels. He has nothing but a bed in his bedroom — he had all dust surfaces removed. Carpets, blankets, curtains, tables, chairs, cabinets, bookcases, books — all gone. Naturally, room temperature must remain high enough to preclude the need for covers. His entire bed (they say) is covered with black plastic wrap. He places a plastic inflatable pillow under his head. The only person Batman keeps in personal touch with is his “invisible” servant Stealth who walks around the “zone” in a special antiseptic suit. Stealth’s life, too, is constrained by a strict antiseptic regime. Before and after each visit to the toilet, he must (just like his master) wash the seat with an antibacterial sponge; before and after each use he washes his hands with antibacterial soap; he covers himself with an antibacterial blanket. He must spray his shoes with an antibacterial spray and he applies antibacterial antiperspirants.
Think whatever you like. The thing is, scientists at Gotham State University discovered a few years ago that microorganisms — microbes and pathogenic germs — were the most populous living thing on the planet. (Anyone who thought it was insects, you’re wrong.) Five million microorganisms inhabit one cubic
millimeter. Further research suggested that Pamela D.’s epidermis — especially her lips — was home to more bacteria than a toilet seat. Apparently, even greater numbers encrust her teeth. (In 1863, Antonius van Leeuwenhoek, the inventor of the microscope, discovered that the number of people living in the Netherlands doesn’t equal the number of tiny “animals” he found in his mouth, not by a long shot. [They say] he took one look at the seething microbes resident on a tiny slice of enamel and fainted.)
Two weeks ago the Sunday supplement of Flesh & Blood, Gotham edition, published an excerpt from Pamela Degrado’s intimate diary. To make things even juicier, the publication had delved into its treasury of investigative journalism to pluck out another jewel: Batman’s flight membrane was (they said) quite dessicated and his aviation abilities thus negligible. To maintain a fresh complexion (they said), he rubbed human ashes into his skin — just like the ancient Egyptians. At the beginning of last year (they said), he found himself in a mental institute, stumbling amidst the drooling insane, with almost total memory loss — and the only thing he still remembered (they said) was his own name. Batman’s secretary called up Flesh & Blood’s editor-in-chief and told him that Batman Corporeal (as a majority owner of the newspaper) was canceling the Sunday supplement. Ever since then there’s been no Sunday supplement in the Gotham edition of Flesh & Blood.
Anyway, it’s noon now. Just a while ago, Batman checked the temperature in his rectum and in his armpit. He double-checked that the temperature in his rectum was half a degree higher. He’s now lying in his bed, curiously watching the veins in his white arms. He has very long, arachnodactyle fingers and toes. He’s observing the shape of his meticulously bitten nails. He’s storing his nails in a marble box — sort of a smaller version of an empire sarcophagus.
(Note: Batman [they say] went on holiday to Madagascar a few years ago, where he visited a local king. He noticed that the king was always surrounded by a group of men called “ramangos.” Their task was to eat the King’s trimmed parings and lick every spilled drop of his royal blood. As they were cutting the king’s nails, the ramangos picked up and swallowed them all. If they were too big, they chopped them into pieces and then
swallowed them. When the king was injured, if say he stepped on something sharp, the nearest ramango had to lick the blood off the ground. Batman gave the king an immobile copy of his Batmobile. The king [they say] gave Batman one of his ramangos: Stealth.)
It’s evening. Batman is lying in his bed, curiously watching a glass filled with his golden urine. He feels slightly dizzy. Just a moment ago he echologically registered (using a sonar) that his servant Stealth was entering his hermetically closed “antibacterial zone,” wearing his special overalls and a veil over his face. (Batman’s sonar is the hit of bionics. Its reaches up to 0.05 mm and covers 5-1,500 m, angular resolution is on a good day 5’, at times even below 1’. The broadband echo-localizing pulses [6.5-100 kHz] are apparently created in Batman’s mouth with high-frequency vibrations of his tongue. It’s actually a sort of special smacking.)
Stealth: Sir, Mr. Exxon Valdez just called from his floating tub. He says the Event will commence in two minutes. I also have to remind you that your film screening is in twenty minutes, as it is every evening at this time. Do tell me if you wish to postpone the screening.
(The thing with the screening is as follows: Batman actually looks forward to just one thing all day: the regular evening screening. Every day at 9 p.m. for over the past year, he has watched the screening of his favorite film, the famous epic Myth of Shushrut. It’s an old, black and white bulimic love strategy, famous for its final 15-minute autopsy scene. The young Pamela Degrado appeared for the first time on screen in the main
supporting role. That’s the same Pamela who later poisoned herself with laundry detergent.)
BatmanTM: Did you wash the seat with an antibacterial sponge?
Stealth: Of course, sir.
BatmanTM: What is the event Exxon is talking about?
Stealth: Michael (18) and Daniel (19), two homosexual students, announced their plan to “enter maturity and seal their love with their first sexual intercourse” for millions of GlobalNet users to see. GlobalNet, which is sponsoring the sensational event and sells paid advertising space, expects it to be the biggest GlobalNet online broadcast ever — they expect a billion viewers, especially in Asia and the Arab world.
BatmanTM: Doesn’t this threaten our film industry? (The film industry is one of the things Batman couldn’t imagine his life without. Batman Corporeal is the majority owner of both Hollywood Brothers and Universal!)
Stealth: I don’t think so. Announcing the “homosexual defloration” of one of the boys on GlobalNet, the young couple’s spokesman denied that it had anything to do with money. Logging onto the GNP website is absolutely free.
BatmanTM: How would you decide?
Stealth: There is no doubt that desire is the Law of the Universe. Its eternal return is the rule.
BatmanTM: You’re watching TV and you find out there is a wasp on your arm. What do you do?
Stealth: I’d kill it.
BatmanTM: Do you mind that two young men cannot father a baby?
Stealth: With today’s scientific achievements they will be able to one day, sir.
BatmanTM: OK. Let’s stick to our own desires then.
The screening is over. Moved as ever, Batman wipes sweat from his temple using paper towels, which he throws into a special container at the bedside. He’s carefully watching the congested capillary fibers on his pale arms, sprayed with antibacterial spray. Using a soft sea sponge (it is more appropriate than a plastic one), he wipes his sex with a sterilizing solution. He’s applied a few drops of turtle oil to his complexion. This is his ritual before going to bed. With quick movements of his tongue, he emits whistling echo-localizing pulses that fan out right across his bedroom. Feeling safe, he falls asleep within ten minutes by slipping on a Valouch Sleep MaskTM.
"

01.03.2001