Nana's Song

An avant-garde cyberpunk prose written in 2013

It was decided that this would be the last game of Mahjong for tonight.

Nana and Portman version were north to south, and Gerald and Hanamichi were east to west. Nana’s liquid screen glared “LOADING,” in order to process her current hand.

“Aeh-Aeh-Aeh-Aeh, Shohoku #1, tilt dat jawn again,”

Gerald pointed out to Hanamichi. Portman whacked her palm on Nana’s monitor as if she heard it for the thousandth time. Nana’s screen went black, and five seconds later, her face reappeared.

“Ready to play mahjong?,”she said in her OSX Laila voice-box preset. She was also the jukebox. She played on very low, the song titled in ASCII font, “Mouse on Mars - Schnick Schnack Meltmade.” It gave some sort of fringe comfort to every board game night.

The last hand finally went out. “Alright, dis is mah best yet,” Gerald said between him and Nana.

Both Hanamichi and Portman would've rather played Android: Netrunner tonight, but things were not according to plan. Portman had no chance of winning this one. She gazed up at the neon light, too bored to smoke again. Hanamichi passed her tiles anyway. The gibberish electronic tune kept them alive.

“Aight stick him up Nansta!,” Gerald said with the utmost confidence. Suddenly, Nana turned off Meltmade. Portman looked up.

Nana talked using a sequence of herself from different issues archived in memory. She had a voice file for every English vowel; spanning from a digital letter “E” still from Vol.1, and all the way to the classic Microsoft Sam “O” from Vol.2, almost looking like a sex doll.

“Hey guys, I’ve been practicing with my killer bannnnnnnnnnnnnd [a lag in speech synthesis] recently. Would you like to hear a song me and NANA [a loud glitch effect] did?” She would break down like this during a game. It was her way of saying she lost.

“Nansta, wuts in yo hand? Stop bein’ a sour faggot and show me whatcha you got!”

“Not again,” Portman said.

It was embarrassing that Nana could not even remember that in her circuits, Nana Portman was the musician inside, and she was the housemaid.

“Nana, you wanna go now? I got some soma at my cell,” Hanamichi said. He had a chance with this woman, compared to the girl he recently broke up, Haruko, even though he still thinks about her every week.

Trauma, right?

Everyone had anxiety issues when Meltmade wasn’t on. The room turned dark by Nana’s orders. She also controlled the room.

“Okay guys, here I go.”

…Nana’s screen went black, the orange neon light was the only thing alive.

Gerald stared at the screen, mouth open. Hanamichi and Portman did not feel like it. Whenever she sang, her stills would animate in motion. It was awkward and not possible by her standard computing.

She sang in-sync with the cut-up samples:

“In your heart, there's a world of sadness, I love you with

all heart.

Love is like a bullet in the head - uh huh.

What you heard is never really what I said - uh huh.

Always the war in 1983 - this is the world of today.

In our mind, there is only the money and there is nothing

for you.

Then hours work no flowers in the mind.

She's got the look (she's got the look!)

You said that you loved me And I thought that it was true

You said that you needed me. And baby, I believed that too.

And if I should start to cry,

and I can't begin to tell you why,

and I stumble when I begin,

it's ‘cause I don't understand anything.

(You reach for me from miles away,)

You're a danger, you're a stranger.

Got to know the way to make you mine.

Come on dancer give me a chance and

Make me love until the end of time.

KISS ME KISS ME BABY so you can tell me why.

Take me take me up to the sky.

KISS ME KISS ME BABY so you can try me now.

Tell me tell me watching the moonlight.

Kiss me baby don't worry I'm your lover.

I'm in action for you, darling.

Kiss me honey don't trust me like a cover.

Still alive my love for you.”

...Portman looked up at the corner of the room, and gave out a long sign. Nana was obviously not done yet.

Hanamichi became worried. He got up with Portman, and they both slowly walked towards the door.

“I'm not afraid of the price I pay.

I won't lie down as you walk away.

I know you must have seen him.

I'm sure you must have heard it all.

I know you used to be him.

Did anybody care at all?

My eyes gain focus the second you walk in.

Feathers of evil shaking and burning.

Daddy, oh daddy, oh daddy, you're listening.

I know that they're dirty, I know that they're faking.

So, what kind of voodoo do you do to make me feel this

way?

What kind of voodoo do you do to make me feel this way?

As soon as you turn up my skin starts to burn up.

I burn up I burn up.

As soon as you turn up.

So, what kind of voodoo do you do?

What kind of voodoo do you do?

What kind of voodoo do you do to make me feel this way?

Up in flames.

Up in flames.

Up in flames.

My love will go up in flames for you.

Profoundly profane and it drives me insane.

[Noise] - What do you know - Don't blow your top now,

here we go!

Ingenuity and progress never progressed out of the sun.

All experiments prove not need the established.

Greed and pain inflicted on the animal model still nothing.

No cure the ravaged instinct silent waking to a

Chemical perversion wartime underground.

Imperfect plotting grows the seeds of time.

Imperfect plotting grows the seeds of time.

Imperfect plotting grows the seeds of time.

Imperfect plotting grows the seeds of time.”

The song was finally over. The lights in the room emitted a light blue. Portman and Hanamichi rushed out of the room. They were done for tonighg

Gerald became fascinated with Nana's performance. He could care less about the game now.

He shook his head, “Yo, dat beat “like, I like. celebration, no way mang.”

Gerald had a lot to say about politics. Only Nana listened to his ramblings. He was black, a midget, and a committed Zionist. Hence, he always wore that same large size Star of David t-shirt to every game. Gerald stood on the table, on the tiles, face to face with Nana.

“Yo music, know wut it's like? It’s candy- coated! Bullshit!” Waving his hands spastically as he talked, “Do you wanna make music that's ill or do you want to make music that evokes the masses. …You know what George Lincoln Rockwell said? I quote, ‘The masses of people will not study! They read comic books, they look to go see the TV, they like to read dime- novels, and they will not study like us Nazis do. The masses of people liked being entertained and everything you give them must be sugarcoated.’ I repeat, ‘sugarcoated’. “Nansta, if you want to make a bettah chune, it can’t be sugarcoated! Aight? Stop makin chunes what they like and make songs that mean somethin’, got dat!?”

Gerald finished his speech with one last note, “Rockwell, dats who you should respect, Rockwell, mah hero!”

It was silent for a bit. Nana computed her criticism. “…[*bzzzz]… …You’re a nice boyfriend! How’s about a game of Mahjong?”

Gerald got off the table, “Bitch-ass computer, don’t mean shit. Aight you shuffle this time.” Gerald stayed for the second game. Nana was his only friend.

She sang back, in a fading, sad, vocoder voice,

“I'm only human,

Of flesh and blood I'm made,

Human,

Born to make mistakes.”

END.

-pe

Revised on July 17th, 2023.

Originally published on April 5th, 2013.