In an unprecedented display of materialism, O.L Pulseloose returned to the land of the Michigamme in what the Potawatomi would call "quirky, fallen form," extending his right hand over his left shoulder as if to say, "I have gone, I have returned yet it's still a quarter-to-six." Interviewed at a primitive cabin near the remote village, Gobles, Pulseloose spoke in terse tones as he described six months spent in North York, near East York and York itself in the sprawling suburbs north of Toronto. In Ontario, the legendary professor said he visited a gift card convention and kibutzed directly with many of Toronto's oldest pigeons, one of whom was heard to comment, "I could swear I saw this guy in Marin County in the '70s, speedreading Norman Mailer with no money and less initiative." Quashing this myth while endorsing others, Pulseloose fielded questions with both hands as his close friend from college, John Sununu, sat nearby, chuckling at a line from a Popeye cartoon that played on a VCR as the character, Wimpy, said to the character, Bluto: "I'll have two hamburgers, for which I will gladly pay you next Tuesday."

Stream: How are things in Canada?

O.L.: Nearly extinct. What passes for humor in Canada wouldn't make it out of rewrite down here, let alone to local cable.

Stream: If Canada is such a dull place, why did you stay there so long? Do you hate yourself or something?

O.L.: I can handle myself in the morning, in the afternoon I'm ambivalent and at night there's severe inconsistency. I might turn melancholy or I might turn ancestral. It depends on the biosphere. If the modules are right, I arch left. You can never tell. I can't either. In Canada, it's twice as confusing because of the French factor. Not only can you not understand those people, most of them fail to grasp the impact of rap music in our culture, particularly Tex-Mex rap, which may be the strongest indicator of what's ahead for all of us, black or white, rich or famous, smoking or not smoking?

Stream: How's it feel being back in the states?

O.L.: It feels chilly. What month is this?

Stream: April. It's spring.

O.L.: That explains everything. They told me it was June and I believed them. I'm fundamentally disoriented. I thought we were going to Wisconsin. I want to go back to North Fond du Lac.

Stream: Aren't you a native of Michigan, of Birmingham, actually?

O.L.: I am ... but it doesn't make me proud. Closer to the truth, I feel as if I am of Birmingham but my real self is reflected in a broader mosiac.

Stream: Does it find its basis in an aesthetic sense or is it embodied in antipodal lifestyle issues?

O.L.: No, it's on the wall of a synagogue. Actually, it seeks its own path and gathers at the river. It's like the proverbial will of the proverbial wisp. You never know when it's going to rise up in a shrilled tone or wither distinctly, like a crow's wing in nuclear winter.

Stream: Speaking of carcasses, how do you like Clinton's chances in the caucuses?

O.L.: Clinton's history. "Song-Gus" is history. The Civil War is history. David Duke is archeology. It's all in the library, on the same shelf as A Tree Grows In Brooklyn. And Jerry Brown, for all his appealing radicalism, is ultimately a demagogue ... as bad as any of them. I long for Billy Carter.

Stream: How can you say that? Clinton has won several primaries, he's sent Kerrey, "Song-Us" and Harkin a message and Pat Buchanan owns a gun. If no one's really ahead on the Democratic side, who's going to run against Bush?

O.L.: Everyone's looking at Ross Perot but, shoot, I like Sen. Bill Bradley, the Democrat from New Jersey by way of Oxford and the New York Knicks. I have this vision of a deadlocked Democratic Convention turning to Bradley ... and George Bush turning to mush.

Stream: Can anyone beat Bush?

O.L.: Bush is his own worst enemy and everybody knows it. His insincerity alone should be enough to take him out, way before the convention. And he's got big problems in Iraq ... they hate him there.

Stream: Does a scud missile have his name on it?

O.L.: That's unclear. Does a scrub bristle have fizz bane on spit?

Stream: That's even less clear. And we're asking the questions here. Please stay with your answers.

O.L.: Well please stay on politics. I don't care about sports anymore and I'm getting really sick of commuting.

Stream: OK. Whatever happened to guys who should be Democratic frontrunners, people like Mondale, Dukakis or Gary Hart?

O.L.: Dukakis became an actress, Mondale's got a deal with the former Soviet Union and Hart had what I call a Hart Problem. He challenged the media to track his womanizing, then he went out and womanized and they nailed him with it. What else can you say? The guy was a schmuck. Still is.

Stream: How about Clinton?

O.L.: Strange behavior for a political aspirant, heina? Directed and ambitious to a fault, his ascent was marred, nevertheless, by temptation and ambiguity. Affairs, phoney ROTC overtures ... it's inconsistent with wanting to be president. Why he messed up I'll never know. I know it doesn't take much to cool the electorate's jets in a presidential primary. Ultimately, I'm not sure any of us has kind of background people are looking for today. I know I don't.

Stream: Where'd you screw up?

O.L.: In graduate school. I got three "Bs" and two "C's." It was death. My advisor suggested I get into journalism.

Stream: Did you take his advise?

O.L.: I really got into it.

Stream: Now you're out of it. Do you feel out of it?

O.L.: To the contrary, I feel with my experiences in York I've come to literally define what it means to be truly into it. Think about it. Laurie Anderson pulls my newsletters out of trash bins. Even Barry Manilow bought my book on Oakland County.

Stream: How's it doing?

O.L.: The book?

Stream: No, the length of the interview.

O.L.: We're out of room.

Stream: Perfect. We're out of questions.

O.L.: Perfect, I'm out of beer. Have a great spring!

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