Mannequin: Materialism

A Story by Abishai100

Narrated 'fable' of a 'prince' who claims he's married a mannequin who came-alive and injected him with capitalism-race measure (for the Ego).

A cool summer adaptation of Mannequin (Michael Gottlieb), a classic tale of capitalism's special readings of the heart/physique. Thanks for reading,

----

====

I was inside the shopping-mall inside the Windy-City when I beheld the vision of this incredible Galatea-mannequin. Galatea as you know is the mythological being who came to life after she was simply sculpted as a Romanticism-statue by her artist-creator, and the Galatea-mannequin I beheld inside that mall in Chicago was something of a similar caliber, in my honest examination(s), and maybe that's because I'd always been something of a capitalism-race superstition 'fan' or writer or thinker, brooding about the ornaments and 'pieces' that made fortune-life in the Western-world a 'vision' for the still-life image of commerce/wealth (hmm).

When I was inside this mall, inside the Windy-City commerce-hub of great consumerism activity, I was thinking of my new cyber-chess society (NewPorcellian) and how/why I intended to use the club-platform for special post Cold-War game-diagrams of capitalism-linked politics decision-making, for a reading concerning the 'risk' and pyramids of fortune superstition in the civilization of empires and media (ha).

My name's Amlan Satan, and while I was working on my cyber-chess storyboards/diagrams and then visited the Chicago-mall and beheld the vision of my mall-Galatea mannequin, whom I nicknamed 'Esmerelda' (after the Victor Hugo heroine of classic fame/beauty!), I decided I had begun to 'transform' myself into something of a metaphysics thinker and contemplated why I'd want to draw interest not from the intellectuals of capitalism but from the true Romanics, those working inside this Homeland commerce 'system' and (perhaps) contouring intelligence...and social-media friendship(s).

I decided to get myself a new car, a mod-classic/used Volvo white-sedan ('90s model), which I used to drive-around and feel 'pensive' about the fact that I started 'dreaming' Esmerelda (my Windy-City mall-Galatea mannequin) was coming-alive and whispering messages about 'possession' in capitalism-race consciousness/culture (wow).

ESMERELDA: Do you 'doubt' I'd might become your messenger of fortune/love?
ME: Why not?
ESMERELDA: I feel that 'sense' of 'doubt' in your spirit, prince.

ME: You think I'm a prince, Esmerelda?

ESMERELDA: Why don't you call me by a shorter, more 'cute' name?

ME: How's about...Ezzy?
ESMERELDA: Perhaps I'm from another 'dimension' here to court your optimism.

ME: All's fare in optimism in capitalism, no?
ESMERELDA: Perhaps this is the right-tone for inventions in Homeland love, prince.

ME: You're really from an 'alternative' dimension/universe?
ESMERELDA: Why not (there's always 'space' for conscious travel/contact)?

Sure, I fell in love with 'Ezzy' (Esmerelda), and I believed she promised me she'd become my muse or love-angel should I come to terms with my own sense(s) of 'doubt' in this capitalism-race culture/Homeland, and so to inject myself with some extra credit inspiration for sporting commerce-life energizer-vigor, I got myself a 'cool' 20th-Century Sabatini (Argentina) youth-fanzine like pro-women's tennis spirits image-item for a reflection on what made capitalism/media and sports-fanfare/marketing a thing of more idealism for the modern Western citizen of the States (hmm). After all, Sabatini shocked media-fans of tennis with her 'cool' defiance of the then-indomitable Graf (Germany) in the 1988/1990 US-Open Finals, casting this 'deed' for magic/materialism (wow).

ESMERELDA: Here I am, in moving spirit, inside your home, awaiting your love.

ME: I injected myself with extra-credit inspiration, for a less 'brainy' view of capitalism/America.

ESMERELDA: That's why I came to you...I sensed you heeded my courtly advice.

ME: Ezzy, I'll make you the best egg-curry you've ever tasted, my love.

ESMERELDA: Wow...seems your social-media life 'draws' an artist in you.

Ezzy/I got married and had a darling-boy/son named Damian, for whom I decorated a special college-media 'fanfare' themed (basketball!) bedroom and hoped he'd never discover his 'secret' origins and how his beloved mummy was once, yes, a mall-mannequin. This tale I'm relaying to you, I'm placing in a buried time-capsule in my Windy-City backyard, for a future archaeologist for 'discovery' of what made my age of capitalism-race lifestyle a thing of (arguably) 'superstitious' wind.