It hit me hard yesterday, c Confronted by the injustice to Herman Wallace, the man held by the state of Louisiana in solitary confinement for 41 years, essentially as revenge. It started me on a slide when news of dozens of elephants had been slaughtered in Africa for their tusks, deepening an already critical issue bringing those great and majestic creatures to the brink of extinction. Then there was the general lack of interest in combating across a broad level of society in even giving a shit about global warming and the gouge, rip and tear policy of upending the planet for every last drop of fossil fuels like some desperate junkie tearing apart a home for the smallest fix. So then there was the story about the amount of trash left in orbit around the planet, making it treacherous for any wayward alien to come anywhere near this planet and bitch slap us into a perspective on the precious nature of the planet and universe simply by showing up. Top that off with a new island created by a recent earthquake off the coast of Pakistan, which is now essentially a trash can and ashtray instead of a place of marvel and science.
So by around 3 I was in one hell of a mood. Polishing a science fiction I have been working on the last year or so I began hoping for that planet killing asteroid we will no longer detect as we all but abandon space and science in favor of stupid and wasteful shit like war, and while we do less and less with the money steadily being stolen or given away to corporations. We are sliding backwards into this primitive tribalism the world over, a species wide psychopathy of piggish, linear thinking idiots. And I hope it isn’t an arc of civilization we are on, as if we momentarily peaked as a civilization, and now are plummeting back to insipidness.
I’m trying to keep a better perspective, imagining the love between parent and child, two people falling in love, the help of a stranger. Then I start thinking that parent may teach that kid to grow up as an asshole, those two people falling in love will vote republican and say stupid ass things about homosexuals, immigrants and other religions. Told you I was in a shitty mood.
The novel is titled, “An Angry Jasper Adventure: Skullboy and escape from Chicago.” The novel is about a burned out space bounty hunter whose mouth gets him in trouble, most especially with his space hooker girlfriend, who is also a spy for the rebel alliance on earth. You’ll all be shocked I’m sure to know that it is a very sarcastic piece. He’s about had it with humanity too, but finds good in people despite himself. It is not autobiographical. It is not. Just drop it… Anyway, here is a taste of the book:
He was a huge sod, with arms the size of tree trunks. His mis-formed face was folded with a feverish scowl betraying a murderous mood. The deep lines of his brutish forehead overlapped, shadowing deep-set black eyes. A huge double chin and crooked jaw protruded almost grotesquely outward. Scars, odd lumps and strange patches of hair covered his face.
That massive head sort of lolled back and forth to a rhythm of short, grunting breaths, like a mad dog that ought have been put down long ago. Drinking only helped focus his nasty mood. He’d gone through a bottle of vodka already, and was well into his second. Giant hands wrapped fully around the bottle, as though he meant to crush the thing, or that he might just swallow the whole damn thing, bottle and all. The ashtray before him was filled to overflowing.
The guy stunk something awful, a putrid mixture of sweat, turned liquor and death. The kind of stink that chased flies away, made hogs bury their nose or made maggots gag. But it was his expression that told the lout’s story best. It was the face of a man who knew he was done for, and now it was just a matter of how many he would take down with him.
He lit a cigarette and looked up through a cloud of smoke at a figure striding down the center of the street. Tumble weed bounced between the approaching stranger and the tavern, chased by a dusty gust of wind. The fugitive grinned and crumpled the lit cigarette in his palm. When life becomes a cliché, he thought of the tumbleweed, then it’s time to get out. But he was damned to leave this world easily, and certainly not alone!
And I started thinking about that asteroid, and how it might be the best thing to the rest of the decent people of the universe. God forbid the same pigs on this planet just leave a trail of shopping malls, environmental rape upon uncounted worlds and piled of cheap trash in every fucking corner of the universe.. Porn instead of art will proliferate for millions of light-years in every direction because from a prurient and capitalist dominated culture porn sells to uneducated and reactionary rubes way more than art and literature. Hell, the Right all but champions that perspective in efforts to screw with public education, defund the National Endowment for the Arts and to undermine the importance in multi-dimensional thought and cognition through liberal arts degrees, especially literature. Okay, maybe Angry Jasper isn’t the most literary thing I’ve done, but I sneak in some deeper thoughts, like a statement on pop culture to influence future history when viewed totally out of context. Also, shit blows up in the book in some really cool ways.
I’m venting, obviously, but I am nonetheless concerned that we’ll turn the rest of the universe into a big crap pot like we are doing with the planet. And I am concerned, if we can survive our current planet wide slide towards ultimate banality of blind gluttony, that we’ll view the jewel of the universe as our own gravel pit, strip mine and sewer. And my most eloquent wish for all humanity in that regard is to please WAKE THE FUCK UP!
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