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You
're
on
a
platform
in
a
castle
in
Ireland
with
bottomless
darkness
all
around
the
edge
of
the
platform
,
and
ahead
of
you
,
across
an
arm
's
length
of
darkness
,
is
a
rock
wall
.
"
Rain
,
"
Tyler
says
,
"
fell
on
the
burnt
pyre
year
after
year
,
and
year
after
year
,
people
were
burned
,
and
the
rain
seeped
through
the
wood
ashes
to
become
a
solution
of
lye
,
and
the
lye
combined
with
the
melted
fat
of
the
sacrifices
,
and
a
thick
white
discharge
of
soap
crept
out
from
the
base
of
the
altar
and
crept
downhill
toward
the
river
.
"
And
the
Irish
men
around
you
with
their
little
act
of
rebellion
in
the
darkness
,
they
walk
to
the
edge
of
the
platform
,
and
stand
at
the
edge
of
the
bottomless
darkness
and
piss
.
And
the
men
say
,
go
ahead
,
piss
your
fancy
American
piss
rich
and
yellow
with
too
many
vitamins
.
Rich
and
expensive
and
thrown
away
.
"
This
is
the
greatest
moment
of
your
life
,
"
Tyler
says
,
"
and
you
're
off
somewhere
missing
it
.
"
You
're
in
Ireland
.
Oh
,
and
you
're
doing
it
.
Oh
,
yeah
.
Yes
.
And
you
can
smell
the
ammonia
and
the
daily
allowance
of
B
vitamins
.
Where
the
soap
fell
into
the
river
,
Tyler
says
,
after
a
thousand
years
of
killing
people
and
rain
,
the
ancient
people
found
their
clothes
got
cleaner
if
they
washed
at
that
spot
.
I
'm
pissing
on
the
Blarney
stone
.
"
Geez
,
"
Tyler
says
.
