karenika - books

Choke

Shoveling food into his face, Denny says, "Why you do this is so infantile."

I stagger over and kick him, again.

Why I do this is to put adventure back into people's lives.

Why I do this is to create heroes. Put people to the test.

Like mother, like son.

Why I do this is to make money.

Somebody saves your life, and they'll love you forever. It's that old Chinese custom where if somebody saves your life, they're responsible for you forever. It's as if now you're their child. For the rest of their lives, these people will write me. Send me cards on the anniversary. Birthday cards. It's depressing how many people get this same idea. They call you on the phone. To find out if you're feeling okay. To see if you maybe need cheering up. Or cash.

It's not as if I spend the money phoning up escort girls. Keeping my mom in St. Anthony's Care Center costs around three grand each month. These Good Samaritans keep me alive. I keep her. It's that simple.

You gain power by pretending to be weak. By contrast, you make people feel so strong. You save people by letting them save you.

All you have to do is be fragile and grateful. So stay the underdog.

People really need somebody they feel superior to. So stay downtrodden.

People need somebody they can send a check in Christmas. So stay poor.

"Charity" isn't the right word but it's the first word that comes to mind.

You're the proof of their courage. The proof they were a hero. Evidence of their success. I do this because everybody wants to save a life with a hundred people watching.

With the sharp tip of his steak knife, Denny's sketching on the white tablecloth, sketching the architecture of the room, the cornices and paneling, the broken pediments above each doorway, all this while still chewing. He lifts his plate to his mouth and just shovels in the food.

To perform a tracheotomy, you'd find the dent just below the Adam's apple, but jut above the cricoid cartilage. With a weak knife, make a half-inch horizontal incision, then punch the incision and insert your finger to open it. Insert a "trache" tube, a drinking straw or half a ballpoint pen works best.

If I cant be a great doctor saving hundreds of patients, this way I'm a great patient creating hundred of would-be doctors.

Closing in fast is a man in a tuxedo, dodging between the onlookers, running with his steak knife and his ballpoint pen.

By choking, you become a legend people will cherish and repeat until they die. They'll think they gave you life. You might be the one good deed, the deathbed memory that justifies their whole existence.

So be the aggressive victim, the big loser. A professional failure.

People will jump through hoops if you just make them feel like a god.

It's the martyrdom of Saint Me.

The author of Choke doesn't need an ad from me. He already has a cult following. I've previously written about Invisible Monsters. Choke is written in Chuck's refreshingly stark and unusual style and even though I find the stories extremely disturbing, I truly enjoy his style and the messages of his novels. And I'm proud to say that, this time, I was able to figure out the twist way before the end.