Reach Out And Touch Crazy
Next day. The police bring Frank back to the hospital in Leeds while other police officers are breaking into Steve's place in Harris Street, the priest shooting video all around. (Okay, now the shuffle's gone into the Hosannah Chorus from Jesus Christ Superstar. My computer is inventing music I don't own! That's messed up!) There's a collage on Steve's screensaver: Steve, Peter, Fiona and Dave, and Jude. A bunch of pictures of Steve are all around (so that you know whose room this is), some in which he looks like a gay mime, and somebody's digging hair out of his bathroom sink and handing it to the priest. The priest leaves the apartment and walks down the block to his car -- there's a long winding white stripe leading along behind him. As he opens his car door, we see Steve watching from the other direction. The priest notices him, and Steve puts his fingers to his lips, for silence. The sign of Harpocrates, the child Horus, the new God of this age. More Gnostic stuff, if you're keeping score. The priest looks away. Osiris the Father dies away, and Isis gives birth to Horus, a child God. Not of rules, but of play. A transition from finite to infinite games, as my friend Karen would say. The Third Testament; the Gospel of the Son. I promised I wouldn't go there, and now here I am. You tell me. It only gets worse, and it's not me doing it.
Moving on. The priest meets Steve in a coffee shop, and there's talk of a secret book of apocrypha that was all in code and told them the latitude and longitude of the return of the Son of God, "the lamb will appear in the city to the north," that kind of thing, and the priest admits that the Vatican has arranged things with the British government. Just so they can talk. The cough of an obsolete engine. "Your mother still alive?" Steve asks. "D'you want her to wake up with her legs turned to stone?" If not, Steve asks, the Vatican and Sexy Priest guy should leave him alone: "The work starts tomorrow." Priest tells Steve to stop with the threats, and since he doesn't seem interested in Steve's offer that he piss off, they continue to chat. The priest -- Father Dillane -- went to a posh school, and his "Christian" name, as Steve jokes, is James. Steve: "The minute I start, it's not gonna stop. Never. I want one night. I wanna get pissed. And see Judy. Please." Dillane's curious about the whole "tomorrow" thing, but Steve says it doesn't work like that: "Find out tomorrow. Won't find out till it happens." He can't be both human flesh and omniscient at the same time: "No warning." Dillane smiles, feeling that: "Some of us have been trying for years." Steve nods. "Some of you have been shagging choir boys." Whoa. You can't expect Dillane to just take that: "How dare you? 'Some of us'? Most of us...Every day, somebody laughs and tears us down. And you're doing it." Steve just smiles: "That's more like it. You're one of the few, Jimbo." And if we're going there -- and be assured that we are -- it's nice that the single priest onscreen is "one of the few," even if he's mostly just decoration. At which he excels. Dillane asks him what happens if people don't listen: "If they don't believe, what happens then? Are you damned?" Buzz shot dead, Steve just stares.