Monday, June 13, 2016

chapter 2.02 pre-victorious


pre-victorious


Like a three-legged camel crossing the vast emptiness of the Gobi Desert, the National SomethingSomething Radio reportage of the pre-victory pre-acceptance victory acceptance speech lurched onwards towards nothing at all.

"Hello, this is Jack Werthless in Washington. Anonymous Intern, can you tell us what is happening?"

The intern reported what she was seeing. That way, every listener would have a rough idea of what  talking looks like. She spoke with hushed excitement. "Jack, I can tell you that Queen Bintonian is now opening her mourh. Air is appearing to move into her lungs, yes, air is somehow being displaced by a pressure gradient into her lungs. Oh, now the pressure gradient has been reversed. Air is being forced out of her lungs. Repeat! Air is being forced out of her lungs! Hark! She speaks!"



"My name is Eevellary Bintonian." A roar of thunderous applause was heard.

"She has created speech! She has created speech by passing air through her vocal mechanism, stimulating the vibration of the vocal cords themselves! Amazing! And what a profound statement. She has told us her name!"

"Because my name is Eevellary Bintonian." More thunderous applause.


The intern continued. "It appears that her plan is to continue the cycle of alternating pressure gradients to force air into and out of her lungs! This will allow her to speak many words!"

"Amazing," said Jack Werthless in D.C.

"Excitingly amazing!" replied Anonymous Intern.

"And..."

"Ah! She's about to create another amazingly exciting sentence!", said Intern.

"And furthermore, unlike my opponent, Burning Sandman, my name is Eevellary Bintonian!"

The crowd roared again. "Braiiiiiiiiiins!" they cried in unison.

"What was that, Anony?", asked Jack Werthless in D.C.

"It appears," replied Anonymous Intern, "that many of the those present are the zombie-like undead creatures. Which should have been obvious from their blood-soaked clothing, the bits of brain and intestines clinging to their mouths, their slow, clumsy movements, and the fact that none of them seem to be able to clap their hands. They keep swinging and missing, hitting the zombie next to them, and then they begin eating one another. However, their enthusiasm for Ms. Bintonian is very evident, very amazing, and very exciting!"

"And as my mama used to tell me..."

"Oh, she's winding them up with a 'my mama' anecdote, the cheering and excitement is unbelievable."

"Ahem, as my mama used to tell me, the best meal is meal of human brains!"

The crowd roared. "Brainsssssssssss!"

Anonymous Intern had to shout over the noise of the crowd. "Jack in D.C., the crowd is eating this up!"

"Wow! Tell me, are there any, you know, people who are still alive in the audience?"

"It does appear that there is one--oh wait, she panicked and they got her. They got her."

"What happened, Anony?"

"Well Jack in D.C., they ripped her apart and are now feasting upon her flesh and guts. Oh wait, now one has cracked open her skull cavity. Yes, the creatures are going in for the gooey mess that is the human nervous system. They are very excited!"

"Are there any  other--"

"Wait Jack, she is about to make another word. Perhaps another sentence. Oh Jeebus this is exciting and amazing and stuff!"

"That's right, there you go, feast upon those delicious nutritious brains. Vote for me and you will never want for brains!" 

"Sounds like she's really pandering there to the undead voters," said Jack in D.C.

"Well Jack in D.C., that's politics. Oops, buckle up kids, here comes the big finish!"

"Yesterday, my name was Eevellary Bintonian! Today, my name is Eeveellary Bintonian. And tomorrow my name will still be Eevellary Bintonian! Unless I legally alter my name or get a divorce, my name will always be Eevellary Bintonian! And this year I'm going to go to Washington  D.C. and people will call me Eevellary Bintonian!" 

"A powerful message," said Jack in D.C., "but will her promise of more human brains resonate with the supporters of Burning Sandman?"

"If they have half the love for human brains that this crowd does, no doubt about--oh hell, they spotted me. Gotta' go."

"Good luck, hope you don't get eaten, heh heh. Next up: Why won't the Sandman just do us all a favor and drop dead?"


Friday, June 10, 2016

chapter 2.01 - pre-acceptance acceptance of the pre-victory victory



the pre-acceptance acceptance of the pre-victory victory



From the speakers came more annoying, pointless speech. One voice was somewhat human, but at the same time sounded completely spineless--invertebrael, one might say. "Hello, this is National SomethingSomething Radio with Ari A. Lapdog. And this is another overpaid lapdog."

"I'm just an intern," came the voice of a young women. 

"Oh boo hoo. You're here because you're a girl. So what do you think about this momentous occasion of a corrupt, war-mongering narcissist who is about to accept her pre-acceptance with victory speech for a victory she has yet to win? You must be very excited about this momentousness. I mean, you're both girls!" 

"Let me check the script. Okay, it's um, where's my line, oh screw it--this is the best toothpaste ever!"

"We're selling a candidate here, not toothpaste. Yet. This is journalism, remember: So just read the script."

 "Oh, right right, it's a public service. We only sell brands. Like the best brand of all, Brand Bintonian!"

"I think you're getting it!"

"I'm so excited about this motherfucking toothpaste dammit! Keeps your teeth white as fuck!"

"Bintonian, Brand Bintonian."

"The candidate?"

"Yes, the candidate!"

"She will keep your teeth white! Also: Send us your money, don't be a free-loading cunt!", exclaimed the intern.

"Now you've got it!"

"But if you want my honest opinion, as a woman, I believe that I really cannot support Eevellary Bintonian for president because--"
Ari A. Lapdog cut her off with a line usually only heard in pornograpic videos: "Shut up you stupid bitch here she comes here she come oh she's coming!" he squealed. He began stomping his feet, Unable to contain himself, he stomped his feet in anticipation. 
A curtain parted, revealing a golden throne upon a dais. And on the throne sat the prematurely victorious not-yet-a-queen queen, Eevellary Bintonian herself. 

"A thunderous applause is going through  the crowd of vetted Bintonian supporters! The people who loved her five minutes ago still love her!", cried Lapdog. "Okay, the throne is levitating forward to the microphone. And her mouth is opening--she's about to speak--and oh godddddddddddddddddddddddd!" Ari Lapdog then passed out cold. As his body slumped to the ground, the intern snatched the microphone from his hand.

"Ha, now it's my time to shine!", she cried. "She appears to be inhaling air into her lungs. And now the first word is coming out now...any second now...and here it is!"

And then, clearly reveling in non-victory, Eevellary Bintonian emitted a word. The word resounded throughout the crowd. 

"Hey."

"Braiiiiiiiiiiiins!" roared the crowd.


Sunday, June 5, 2016

chapter 2.0 - radio haze (iv)



notes of future  past


To: The Desk Of Dr. Glyxxzzitt Borg, Professor of Human & Earth Studies, Earth University

Dear Professor, 
Enclosed is the file you requested of this thing known as "public radio" or "pubic radio" (we had long hours of discussion about the proper spelling. In fact a bout of fisticuffs broke out! Our expert on Americanese, Dr. Fryxxzzitt Borg (no relation) attempted to punch the professor of Australianese right in his external orosensory gland. Instead it ended up smashing into one of those strange metallic Earth artifacts which clutter his office (I think it he calls it a "blender", some sort of useless ceremonial gift handed out at weddings), and ended up shattering several small bones in his third arm, not to mention a great deal of blood loss. Therefore it will be some time before we can supply you with further transcripts. Let us hope this will suffice for now. 

**MINCEMEAT [note: more radio]]**

[translator's note: transcript, 21st century Earth era; source unknown]

Anchor: In people who matter have died news, reports are filling our inboxes here indicating that dance-rock-pop-soul-rhythm-and-blues-musician-songwriter-appeared-on-innumerable-posters-and-t-shirts guy, Mince, died from an accidental  overdose of Lesspainfulnyl. Although Mince was taking the drug to relieve physical pain from an injured hip and he decided to forgo surgery for that pain, and belonged to a cult that forbids surgery out of some batshit interpretation of book written thousands of years before anesthesia and antibiotics, and in spite of the fact that it should be common knowledge after 40 years of drug war hysteria that any opiod produces physical dependency, let's frame this from the perspective we should: Addiction.  Dr. Addiction, welcome. 

[Translator's note: still working on translation of 'batshit'; may have been a popular character of local folklore who brought fertilizer to the ancient humans. See my monograph, "Origins of the Batshit Myth: Questions Without Good Answers." In addition, "Anchor" seems to have been a very common name. Whether it was passed down matrilineally remains a matter of intense dispute.]

Dr. Addiction: Zombies ate my family!

Anchor: We brought you here to talk about someone who matters.


Dr. Addiction: Right, sorry.

Anchor: Perhaps the zombies were high on smack?

Dr. Addiction: Oh, no doubt about it. Opiod addiction is the greatest crisis facing our nation except for the zombie holoc-

Anchor: I'm sorry but we're not discussing that. Do you want this shot to raise your profile and get that CRAP TALK on youtube?

Dr. Addiction: A CRAP TALK OH FARK YEAH!

Anchor: Good, then play ball and MAYBE you'll get somewhere.

Dr. Addiction: OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES BOOK DEAL HERE I COME!

Anchor: Alrighty, now settle down...

Dr. Addiction: Ahem, right.

Anchor:  ...and tell us how dangerous this drug is.

Dr. Addiction: Worse than having to see zombie sucking out your wife's brain. And I should know. 

Anchor: That's better. Your future is starting to crystallize and I can see your speech on ubertube. And on the side column I can see links to dozens of extremely popular cat videos. Yes, you will be that popular.

Dr. Addiction: OH GOD OH GOD--

Anchor: Ahem.

Dr. Addiction: Sorry. Started to get carried away there.

Anchor: No need to make orgasmic noises, this isn't some Nora Ephron crap from the 80's.

Dr. Addiciton: Who? What?

[Translator's note: "Nora Ephron" appears to have been another figure of folklore, feared as a supernatural being who would somehow get into one's home with her demonic powers of "basic cable connection", whatever that could be, and steal children's souls with bad cinema.]

Anchor: Never mind. Just compare Lesspainfulnyl to a banned, illegal drug so that we all know how bad and evil it is and make it sound as though we're standing up to HUGE PHARMA even though we're going to do nothing of the sort. 

Dr. Addiction: It's worse than the zombie holocaust because HUGE PHARMA.

Anchor: How huge?

Dr. Addiction: Enormously huge.

Anchor: Can you be more precise?

Dr. Addiction: Huge huge. I'm gesturing with my arms to demonstrate how huge it is.

Anchor: Remember, this is radio. People can't see you.

Dr. Addiction: HUUUUUUUGE....

Anchor: Horrible. There you have it, Mince is now meat. Heh heh, that's a good one.  Thank you doctor.

Dr. Addiction: I have to go bury corpses of my wife and children but not before I sever their heads from their bodies to prevent them from returning as undead.

Anchor: Thank you and you have a great day too!  

[Translator's note: End of file.]