I guess I’m posting John Cheever story reviews on Thursdays and Job (Iyov) chapter responses on Mondays now. I’ve gotten so far behind that I had to switch the days. So as an apology to the readers who want two articles a week, here’s an extra bit. Twenty years ago, I considered it my first sale even though no one paid me.
I’m not sure if this one is already online. According to my Story Tracking page, “Whispers of Wickedness” bought it, but I can’t find it. Possibly it was published in the zine. So maybe three people read it. I have tried to sell it other places, but not much success. And that’s fine.
As far as I can tell the archives for Whispers of Wickedness are still up. Here’s my review of a book by Andrew Humphrey who might be a meteorologist but could also be a journalist for BBC. That’s what I found when I google Andrew Humphrey.
Anyhow, when I wrote this under the influence of Heiner Muller and Abbie Hoffman.
After the Revolution
by Tim Lieder
A play in five movements. The length is dependent on the struggles of history. Dialogue may be added.
Movement One: Hippies in wheelchairs. Tragic Japanese women with knives, soldiers. Soldiers running headfirst into another war carnival --- couldn’t be helped --- more to protest, more to ignore. A lone smile. Cockroach sonatas.
Movement Two: Singing churchwomen laud the virtues of the immaculate conscription. Wash your hair. Cute old ladies wielding hacksaws chase the hippies. Off with her head. Suicide with air-filled syringes. All the soldiers are either dead or screaming. Cockroach opera. Pain.
Movement Three: In a strait jacket wired on speed, struggling dead soldiers chase the ladies, some corpses dragged off return as angels. Hippies circle the wheelchairs. Corporations dissolve. Unions fight counter-unions, counter-unions fight radical factions. Radical factions try to walk away. Radicals feel righteous but useless. Two fat guys with swords fight. Cockroaches get arrested. Croaking.
Movement Four: Too many orgasm songs. Hippies get wheeled off. Christ figures fall. Soldiers and women do a Living Dead routine; amuse the cockroaches. Hippies get shotguns, splatter the orderlies. They stay on stage. Tired psychedelic patterns mix and merge. Become grey dull dead. Norman Rockwell prints are projected to scare the audience. Spiders crucify the cockroaches
Movement Five: Hippies get tired of this shit and leave. Fish people stroll in carrying laser pistols. Old ladies sing praises for and the soldiers fight for the power and the glory of the cockroach. Everyone eventually dies. Empty stage. Harsh white light. Lone figure enters and paints stick figures on the floor.
The End
Anyhow, if you’d like to help me out with my rent here’s my Gofundme
If you’d like to read much better fiction (including a Santa Claus Serbian Genocide Tale) here’s my self-published Sugarplum Zombie Motherfuckers