“The Bliss Instant” —
A transcript of Dr. Robert W. Carson, PhD being interviewed for his biography by novelist Mitchell Stemm — August 19th, 1977.
As transcribed for broadcast teleplay by the offices of Penn & Brewer; January 1994.
(NOTE: Due to improper storage, part of this tape was deemed inaudible or unplayable. No other known written transcript exists. Audible play begins at approximately the 1 minute and 22 second mark.)
—BEGIN TRANSCRIPT—
Dr. Carson: “(inaudible)…clinics…(inaudible)…but I was interested in taking it further. “
Stemm: “And is there a Case X for this? A jumping off point that you can recognize?”
Dr. Carson: “I can’t… because of the nature of it. (inaudible)… you see? There is not a focal point. We can’t trace anything back to any one individual. It would be impossible to do so given the number of people that have existed on earth so there is no “Adam” here.”
(long silence)(inaudible noise)
Stemm: “What are the figures?”
Dr. Carson: “Well now, this is a hard thing to track. A life has to be observed from beginning to end; every single moment. Maintaining records of every individual that comes into contact. Bus drivers, waitresses, friends, and cousins. When notification of a traumatic death of any of these individuals is received, I then do an exhaustive backtracking until I find the “Bliss Instant”*…
(* the “Bliss Instant” has been rumored to be defined by Dr. Carson as the moment the death of a contact is set into motion and can’t be reversed. The exact definition, as held by Mr. Carson, is not known to be permanently documented.)
“… but I believe that based on a 75-year life span, every human is inadvertently responsible for the death of six others. Now, what does this mean for you? I don’t know. Are you guilty? Not per se. Who would hold you accountable? And for what?”
Stemm: “Do you find that people often feel defensive when you tell them about this?”
Dr. Carson: “Defensive, no; dismissive, yes. (long pause) There is nothing that anyone can do about this. Nor is there anything anyone should. I didn’t begin looking into this with heroic intentions and I certainly don’t have them now. It’s history, it’s science and it’s fascinating. When you begin to understand how complex and incessant of a fact it is; you embrace apathy.”
Stemm: “Do you consider yourself apathetic?”
Dr. Carson: “I consider myself a mercenary of reality, I suppose. Our population is beyond analogy. It’s incredibly vast and ever changing. I hate that people die but then again, I love that people are born. The world is a function. It’s an event. Existence is a gathering and while it may be taboo to excuse yourself, some of us do; but the vast majority of us choose to live and so we choose happenstance.
(pause)
When your father’s heart gives out one day, it may be because of his poor diet and high blood pressure, sure. But it may also be because at age 5, when you were learning to throw a baseball, you caught him in the chest with a strong throw. This gave him a rip the size of a pinprick in his aorta. It healed up for the most part but his blood pressure would raise and the expanding vessels would cause it to reopen just a little; scar tissue would build. His heart was able to beat for another 32 years but not a day longer. It’s not an accusation; it’s an anecdote. We as humans love the idiosyncratic and the macabre but more than anything we love ourselves. We love to think about our own lives and maybe we even get a slight buzz out of the idea of ourselves as the relentlessly innocent killers of strangers.”
Stemm: “That’s all wonderful stuff. It really is. Is the example one that you’ve come across? With the child ripping the aorta?”
Dr. Carson: “It is. Water?”
Stemm: “Please. Now, if you could speak more about the Buckley case…”
Dr. Carson: “Sure. It was a sort of miracle that we even – “ (ringing)
Stemm: “Please – feel free.”
Dr. Carson: (speaking inaudibly, believed to be into phone) (long silence)
“Ok. I’ll unplug that or we’ll never get anywhere.” (long pause) “With Buckley it was unbelievable to me that we were able to get that off the ground and actually see it through.”
Stemm: “Because of the logistics?”
Dr. Carson: “Absolutely. This was the late 1940’s and I was asking for permission for a life. To own and sort of smother this individual’s existence with my omnipresence, while remaining far enough removed to never directly effect his environment or choices. From the instant of birth until death, after only seventeen years. I lived in the apartment above his and spent every day of his life observing him and those around him. We never met, though I of course knew his mother and had her permission to do my work. His father, I never met.”
Stemm: “It’s hard to imagine the magnitude of that undertaking.”
Dr. Carson: “Oh, I still am in disbelief over the success of it.”
Stemm: “It was a great stride in learning. You are owed.”
Dr. Carson: (inaudible)
Stemm: (inaudible)”…hear about the stand out cases from Buckley.”
Dr. Carson: “Sure, sure.”
Stemm: “How many did he have?”
Dr. Carson: “Buckley had 4 by the time he died. Again he had only aged 17 years.”
Stemm: “And which of those stands out most to you?”
Dr. Carson: “Oh. Well, in terms of which I thought was most intriguing?”
Stemm: “Whichever cases you found most startling, I suppose.”
Dr. Carson: “Sure, yes. There was his childhood friend, Abel – very small, stout Mexican boy – he and Buckley shared a birthday. They were a wicked pair. I remember – and they couldn’t have been more than 7 years old – the two of them would pick nearly every cherry out of Buckley’s mother’s only tree; mash them up into a sort of mush and fill mason jars with it. Well, it turned out they were trying to make wine or really just booze, I guess. They’d let the stuff sit in the sun and ferment for weeks but they could never get it down their throats enough to see if it worked.”
Stemm: “And what happened to Abel?”
Dr. Carson: “You mean how did he die?”
Stem: “Yes, if you would, please.”
Dr. Carson: “Well, he was bitten by a spider. It was late summer and the boys were both having dinner with Abel’s family and as Buckley was leaving Abel’s home; he stopped and took clear note of a Brown Recluse spider resting on the hinge of the screen door. He didn’t tell anyone or make any attempt to kill the spider. Later, I made a small blue mark on the spider’s back. Sure enough, 9 days later Abel was being rushed to the hospital. His right armpit was nearly rotten from the rancid bite and the infection and poison were spreading into his organs. It would have proved to be an incredibly painful way to go had he not been eviscerated by his seatbelt in a head-on collision only a few miles from the hospital. The ambulance drivers described him as looking like a busted piñata. I found it tasteless due to his nationality, among other reasons.“
Stemm: (inaudible)”…terrible.”
Dr. Carson: “The driver of the other vehicle happened to be a nurse from the hospital they were heading toward. She had fallen asleep at the wheel. She claimed to be exhausted from working a double-shift.”
Stemm: “Why is she not to blame for Abel’s death?”
Dr. Carson: “Buckley saw the spider first. No spider, no car ride. No car ride, no car accident.”
Stemm: “Though the nurse may still have been exhausted and caused another accident…”
Dr. Carson: “Oh, it’s nearly a guarantee that she would have. Yes.”
Stemm: “But that wouldn’t have fallen into Buckley’s…jurisdiction…I suppose?”
Dr. Carson: “Correct. I found the spider cradled in a thick, undisturbed web just behind the space heater in Abel’s bedroom and killed it.”
Stemm: “And what was Buckley’s reaction to Abel’s death?”
Dr. Carson: “He was upset, oh yeah.”
Stemm: “Did he ever mention having seen the spider?”
Dr. Carson: “Never. “
Stemm: “I need to flip the tape.”
(TAPE STOPS; TAPE RESTARTS) (white noise and shuffling)
Stemm: “If you don’t mind, Dr. Carson, I’d love to know a little bit more about some of the specifics of this – “
Dr. Carson: “— I’ll have to stop you before you say “theory”. This is not a theory and the fact that people want to call it a theory only further reinforces it as otherwise. No one wants to hold the full weight of reality. We may be able to distance ourselves enough to omit from our list of daily concerns that “completely benign” decisions we make could result in the death of a complete stranger but not the death of our best friend or our mother or even our postman. We refuse to believe that we would let that happen but the point is that we are not letting it happen. It is happening, and solely because of our existence but we are not letting it happen. We are blissfully ignorant and to be otherwise would disrupt nature. Whether we like it or not, if we live our expected 75 years we will have ended 6 lives. And who knows where each individual is at during any given time with their tally.”
Stemm: “You mentioned the word ‘nature’ which reminded me to ask; do animals count in this?”
Dr. Carson: “No. Animals do not count.”
Stemm: “Ok.”
Dr. Carson: “Why would animals count?”
Stemm: “They’re alive. And technically making decisions on a daily basis.”
Dr. Carson: “Your pet dog defecates in your living room because you were not home to let him outside. You have a dead Starling in your mudroom because your pet dog has instincts. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Stemm: “Ah.”
Dr. Carson: “I’ll talk about just one more of Buckley’s today. Edna Brick.”
Stemm: “It’s B-R-I-C-K?”
Dr. Carson: “Right. Edna was in charge of looking after the horses at a wealthy stable in town. She had been working there for a few years and had saved up enough leave hours to take her first long vacation and was at her last day of work before she was going to head off; I think to a lake house in the Wisconsin Dells. Buckley was about 16 and had been assigned to make a bottle rocket for school using water as a propulsion system. He went down into the lower fields, maybe 100 yards from the stables Edna was working in and shot off his rocket. It was propelled by a foot-pump and hose system and went about 8 feet in the air before crashing down, unceremoniously. Naturally, Buckley decided to attach firecrackers and attempt his launch again. With a gun-like ‘pop’ he sent the rocket out maybe 15 yards from the stables. Buckley headed over to pick up the rocket and made his way home. Edna was found a little less than an hour later with her head completely caved in; trampled by the scared horses who would later have her brain matter hosed from their hooves. Buckley never knew. He didn’t even know they were stables; the rich people rarely even let the horses outside.”
Stemm: “May I include that?”
Dr. Carson: “Which part?”
Stemm: “How she was found.”
Dr. Carson: “Please.”
Stemm: (inaudible)(long silence) “…Buckley? What happened to him?”
Dr. Carson: “Flu.”
— END TRANSCRIPT —
NOTE:
Dr. Robert W. Carson died of pancreatic cancer in the hospital on October 3rd, 1979. However, he managed to outlive Mitchell Stemm, who died September 21st, 1979 of a massive heart attack in the same hospital’s stairwell. He is thought to have been bringing Dr. Carson an edit of his biography.
