When the bartender asked the Founder if he wanted another mezcal, he asked her, ‘What’s the chance that that jackdaw you are seeing flies into a window?’
‘He’s waiting for me at home’, she said.
‘You know how you say ‘jackdaw’ in Czech?’
‘What’s bothering you?’
She ruffled her tail feathers as she asked. That’s how she gets the tips, the Founder thought. He handed her his phone.
‘Read’, he said.
She tried to enlarge the text on the screen with her talons. ‘Give it to me’, he said. When he handed the phone back, he said, ‘There’s no going back, after you do it with a mammal.’
‘In your dreams.’
‘When I close my eyes’, the Founder said, ‘I see pink flamingos. But none as beautiful as you.’
‘For fuck’s sake’, she said.
‘Can I get that mezcal?’
‘Don’t move.’
As she turned her back to him and poured, the Founder reflected that the Media Res was quiet for eleven A.M. on a weekday. That was peak time for Homeland Security and Justice Department personnel. The bar was empty except for some ICE agents sitting at a table in the back trying to eat a plate of crayons. ‘Take the mask off to eat, ya morons’, the Founder shouted across the room. A big agent with neck tattoos stood up noisily and grabbed a handful of zip-ties. The man sitting next to him – a skinny-looking older White guy, grabbed the agent’s elbow, shook his head, and pulled him back into the seat. ‘You only need one of those’, the Founder said. ‘I only have two hands’. He displayed his hands, wrist-first, shoulder height, to the room. The agent pulled his mask off, stuffed a red crayon into his mouth, and exhaled steam through his nostrils.
‘I hope those guys tip well’, the Founder said to the bartender.
‘Quiet’, she said. ‘They help when we have health code violations.’
‘Read’, he said.
She held the phone and squinted. ‘Do you think you will be fired’, she asked.
‘I might fire Marketing.’
‘I like Marketing.’
‘So do I, but her services will be redundant.’
‘Does that bother you?’
On the screen, a speech bubble coming from the mouth of an AI bot named Claude summarized a battle fought during the Korean War:
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Battle of Pork Chop Hill
Location and Context
Pork Chop Hill is situated in the eastern part of the Korean Peninsula, near the 38th parallel, specifically in the region known as the Korean Demilitarized Zone (DMZ). The battle occurred during the Korean War, which lasted from 1950 to 1953, and it was one of the key confrontations between United Nations forces, primarily composed of American troops, and the North Korean People’s Army (KPA) along with Chinese forces.
Strategic Significance
Pork Chop Hill held significant strategic value due to its elevated terrain, which provided a commanding view over the surrounding areas. Control of the hill allowed for better observation and artillery support for operations on both sides. The hill was part of a larger series of positions known as the “Punchbowl,” which included multiple hills and ridges that were heavily contested during the war. Gaining control of Pork Chop Hill was seen as essential for maintaining a defensive line and preventing enemy forces from launching further assaults into South Korea.
The Battle
The battle for Pork Chop Hill occurred in two main phases: the first in April 1953 and the second in July 1953. The fighting was intense, characterized by close-quarters combat, artillery barrages, and significant casualties on both sides. American forces, primarily the 7th Infantry Division, were tasked with holding the hill against repeated assaults by KPA and Chinese troops.
- April 1953: The initial attacks were met with fierce resistance, as American forces utilized their superior air support and artillery to repel the KPA. However, the North Koreans and Chinese continued to press their attacks, resulting in heavy fighting.
- July 1953: The second phase saw an intensified offensive, as the KPA and Chinese aimed to capture the hill before the signing of an armistice. Despite being outnumbered, American troops held their ground, utilizing defensive tactics and reinforcements.
Casualties
The battle resulted in significant losses on both sides. Estimates suggest that approximately 2,000 American soldiers were killed or wounded during the fighting for Pork Chop Hill. On the opposing side, the KPA and Chinese forces suffered even heavier casualties, with estimates ranging from 3,000 to 5,000 troops lost. The high casualty rates reflected the brutal nature of the fighting and the strategic importance of the hill.
Impact on the War
While the battle for Pork Chop Hill showcased the tenacity and resilience of American forces, it ultimately had limited strategic impact on the overall outcome of the Korean War. The armistice agreement, which was signed on July 27, 1953, effectively ended hostilities without a clear victory for either side. Pork Chop Hill was abandoned by American forces shortly after the armistice, and the DMZ was established, solidifying the division of Korea that remains to this day.
The battle highlighted the futility of the war’s static front lines and the heavy toll of attrition warfare. Despite its immediate significance, Pork Chop Hill became emblematic of the broader conflict in Korea, where battles were often fought for minimal territorial gain at great human cost.
In conclusion, the Battle of Pork Chop Hill was a notable engagement during the Korean War, exemplifying the complex dynamics of the conflict and the fierce determination of both sides, even if it did not alter the war’s eventual outcome
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‘What does this have to do with manufactured housing’, the bartender asked.
‘Everything.’
‘You are a strange one.’
‘I think you like strange.’
An ICE agent stood up. He placed one foot on the chair he had been sitting on and the other on the floor. He tried to bend down to tie the laces of the boot covering the foot on the ground, but his gut got in the way.
‘It has to do with the home in the park in central New York where the guy died.’
‘You mean the guy who walked around naked and shat wherever he stood?’
‘Correct.’
‘The home where everything, after you put all the crap that he had been hoarding into a dumpster, was covered with a half-inch of shit?’
‘Yup.’
‘The guy who had that giant, Game of Thrones – type scaly scab-type thing covering his leg?
‘Yes.’
‘The home you got title to through an act of God.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘That was a year ago.’
‘Just about.’
‘And it still has not been rehabbed?’
‘Nope.’
‘I’ll give you another mezcal.’
.
‘So, what happened?’
‘Over the course of several months, a bunch of Chinese, North Korean, American and Thai soldiers bashed each others’ brains out. No territory was gained or lost and the battle had no effect on the armistice negotiations. It is an example of the sorrow and the pity of war.’
‘I mean, about the home.’
‘Mutate the mutanda.’
A group of ICE agents had drawn a target on the back of the only female agent in the group and taken darts from the board on the wall. Two others were playing mumblety-peg with a hand grenade. The only agent who remained seated at the table had placed his own head in a vice. As he turned the lever to tighten it, he threatened to send himself back to Fredonia.
‘I thought Shepler’s cousin was going to do the rehab.’
‘He was the first guy to work on it.’
‘And?’
‘He took the big stuff out and did an initial clean.’
‘Did it look better when he was done?’
‘Then, he started working on other projects and he threw out his back on one of those.’
‘So – while he was working for you, he did other projects.’
‘Yup.’
‘And he injured himself doing one of these other projects?’
‘Correct.’
‘So, what happened?’
‘I fired the bastard! He couldn’t work, anyhow!’
‘Did you pay him?’
‘Yes. I am a sucker.’
Two of the ICE agents had put metal pots on their heads and were head-butting each other, like longhorn sheep. When the skinny White agent heard that the Founder had honored his commitment to pay the contractor, he pointed at him and laughed.
.
‘So – what happened next?’
‘I hired another guy who wouldn’t give me a fixed price. He charged me hours and rates.’
The ICE agents who had been head-butting each other stopped, took the pots off their heads, looked at each other, pointed at the Founder, and laughed.
‘OK, I’m a sap’, the Founder shouted across the room. ‘Get over it.’
‘Did he at least give you an estimate’, the bartender asked.
‘He blew through it pretty quickly.’
‘Why?’
‘Because instead of pulling up the original sub-floor, Shepler’s cousin had covered it with new sub-floor. The initial sub-floor was coated with, you know, shit. Covering it up with a layer of plywood didn’t solve the smell. The new guy had to rip up the sub-floor that Shepler had put down. He took out the sections that were really bad and coated the rest with three coats of kilz.’
‘Did that solve it?’
‘Some people said it didn’t smell anymore. Others said it did.’
‘What did you do?’
‘What do you think I did? I fired the bastard!’
‘Do you think your emotions got in the way of business judgment?’
One of the ICE agents had taken his shirt off. Another was tattooing a Totenkopf into his back. A third was grinning and rubbing his dick as he watched the other two men.
‘I have thought about that’, the Founder said. ‘But I believe that, if I had kept him on, he would have bled me dry.’
.
‘The third guy gave me a fixed price’, the Founder said. ‘He was a local guy and Dee Dee said he seemed to know what he was doing.’
‘Do you trust Dee Dee’s judgment?’
‘I think her estimation of people is often too kind.’
.
‘Did you just let the third guy at it?’
‘I told him that Mike would have to supervise him by face-time. I told him he would get paid in three chunks. He would get the first payment after he showed up, brought his tools and did a full day’s work. The first red flag for me was that he wanted the initial payment in cash.’
‘Uh-oh.’
‘He caulked the cracks between the sub-floor sheets and put another coat of Kilz down. He put down some flooring but he added a threshold between the bathroom and the bedroom. Mike had told him not to do that.’
‘And then?’
‘And then, he got squirrely. He said he couldn’t show up because he was in Rochester. Then, he couldn’t show up because he totaled his car. Then, he couldn’t face-time with Mike because he didn’t have data. When I checked a Lowes receipt, I saw he bought a table saw for himself.’
‘The fuck?’
‘I love it when you talk dirty.’
The ICE agents were playing a game where the loser of each round of rock-paper-scissors had to chug a can of motor oil.
‘Then, I asked Dee Dee to have a look in the home. Turns out he had been living there. He had been shitting in the toilet even though there was no water to flush with.’
‘The sorrow and the pity.’
.
‘So? What happened after that?’
‘Well, I needed to take care of the smell once and for all, so I poured some chlorine dioxide into a couple of Lowes buckets, added water, closed the windows and left it for a few days.’
‘Did that work?’
‘It smells like chlorine gas now, instead of shit.’
‘That’s a step up.’
‘Yes, it is.’
One of the ICE agents – a large guy with thick glasses that bugged out over his ski mask – began to stim.
‘Then, a guy who owns a park nearby told me that his manager could do it.’
‘Is this the Hasidic guy?’
‘Everyone in his park thinks he’s Amish.’
‘Did she fix it?’
‘She seemed very competent. She gave me a fixed price and a written contract. She said it would be done by March first.’
‘And?’
‘And she didn’t show up. And she complained that she could not work in the chlorine smell.’
‘Did you pay her?’
‘Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times, there’s a job for me with them’. The Founder pointed toward an ICE agent who, unable to eat a crayon through his mask, was pushing it into his ear.
.
‘So, what are you going to do’, the bartender asked. She cocked her head and groomed a neck-feather as she said it. She is as beautiful after six mezcals as she is before, the Founder thought.
‘I am going to have Mike travel down from northern New York to do the work as soon as the snow stops. He is busy plowing now.’
‘He would do that’, she asked.
‘He volunteered’, the Founder said. ‘I mean, I will pay him, but he suggested that he could do the work.’
‘Wow.’
‘He’s a good one. He thinks like an owner.’
‘You think his job is secure?’
The Founder paused before he answered.
‘The Economist calls this generation of job seekers ‘generation tool-belt’. You can produce marketing copy with AI. You can write computer code and do tax planning. You can draft a securities prospectus, a legal pleading and a PhD dissertation. But you can’t use it to crawl under a mobile home and replace a frozen water riser.’
‘Your son calls it ‘revenge of the retards.’
‘That son is a degenerate. The other loves his mother and calls home.’
‘So, when it’s all over, will you make money from the trailer?’
The Founder paused. He looked like he was eating starch balls, or stomach acid.
‘With luck, I will break even. Any profit I do make will be long-term capital gain.’
At the table behind them, the ICE agents had begun to hunt a swarm of gnats with baseball bats. One agent – the agent who had wanted to zip-tie the Founder – held up an insect carcass as a trophy. His eyes were red and his nostrils were dilated. The table was in splinters.
‘These morons will be gone by the time it is sold’, the Founder said. ‘They are all good candidates for a Darwin award.’