Five years ago, the world as we know it ceased to be. Luckily, the world as we know it from The Road Warrior came into being. Many people were prepared for this turn of events. Too bad those people were geeks and nerds without any real survival skills. Tragically, they were all rape-murdered by corporate CEOs who, it turned out, were the biggest sociopaths on the planet. Some nerds and geeks survived longer than others due to their proficiency at oral sex. But even these desperate, shameless nerds could not last for long. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea gave and gave and gave but eventually, as he knew deep down would happen, he used a little too much teeth. He was thrown into Lightning Dome, a more terrifying version of Thunder Dome, where twenty combatants entered and nineteen left. Mostly because the nineteen were working together to fightfuck the lone other. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea lasted thirteen minutes, a good showing but not good enough to be remembered for more than the long weekend.
As it turned out, some of the most depraved and richest CEOs were the biggest fans of Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea. When the updates stopped (for, you see, DC Comics continued to publish during these post-apocalyptic times although their market share was now worse than Dynamite. In their defense, Gail Simone was being forced to write all of the titles deep within Dynamite headquarters, and all of the titles featured naked lesbians as every character), the CEOs grew desperate for the only written entertainment they could stomach. A new Tess was needed. And who better to take over the job than the monster that delivered the death thrust to Tess, Goggles McDeathhurt.
And now, five years later, Goggles McDeathhurt and Xanadux Rat Wine (Mit Jellied Pinkies) Present: HOLY FUCK! Don’t Put That There Chai Tea!
[Slight buzzing sounds for several seconds before being replaced by clear and enthusiastic sounds of fucking. Sounds reach a loud frenzy before dissolving into simply hurried breathing and panting.]
Archivist Melville: "Mmm. Thank you, Goggles."
Goggles: "Thank you, Archivist. I fucking needed some of that. I think I see why you chose the name Melville."
Archivist Melville: "*chuckling* Because I'm a damn good scrivener?"
Goggles: "Heh. It's not your pen I was impressed with."
Archivist Melville: "Quite a perk, this limo, hmm?"
Goggles: "Yeah. I'm just sorry we don't have enough vehicles for all these Old York and Reading City refugees."
Archivist Melville: "What are you going to do with them, Goggs? What's the plan?"
[Long silence punctuated by a few deep inhales and some slight coughing.]
Goggles: "I don't know anymore, Mel. I just don't fucking know. I thought I knew. I had this grand idea...this beautiful vision of paradise...Buzztown shared with everyone. But now...looking at them and traveling with them...there's just too damn many of them. How do this many people agree on anything?"
Archivist Melville: "What about the Kinder Camps? Weren't you going to...I don't know...?"
Goggles: "I'm still waiting to hear from the Professor about Death Carousel up in Maine. I thought maybe the abandoned children might have some insights on a new way of life, having been mostly raised outside of the Former Times. But from what I heard on the Upper Kinder Camp recording, that ain't no place for adults, you know? Maybe it's different elsewhere. Maybe we can learn something and incorporate it into our vision of the future. Maybe...fuck, Mel...maybe it's just too late for us. Our time is done. Let the kids have it, see?"
[Another long silence.]
Archivist Melville: "Why the language, Goggs?"
Goggles: *laughter* "Why not? I figured the revolution needed a language all its own. We need something new, sees it? Something that isn't...wasn't theirs."
Archivist Melville: "You just want to burn it down and start over. My colleagues and I want to save it all. I can't quite fathom how I've found myself locked inside an expensive limousine with a young, gorgeous, brilliant, Polynesian rebel."
Goggles: "Fuck it. I have no idea why I've been fucking an old, pasty white librarian the last few years." *chuckles*
Archivist Melville: "Daddy issues?"
[Another long silence.]
Archivist Melville: "Shit. Sorry, Goggles. I just...oh, just sorry."
Goggles: "No, no. Fuck it. Father issues is probably right. Why else was I so obsessed with my fucking college Literature teacher when the end of the world decided to squat down on top of us and release its bowels?"
Archivist Melville: "You know I'm not going anywhere, right? I promise to be by your side no matter what we need to do next."
Goggles: "Naw. Don't say that, Mel. No more promises. Promises don't belong in this new world. Promises only get people killed. You do what you need to do when the time comes to do it. Only thing that matters is staying alive."
Archivist Melville: "You think Shortystuff will make a move soon?"
[Another long silence. Slight coughing. An electric buzz.]
Goggles: "Fuck. Who even knows if he's alive anymore. Or if he cares."
Archivist Melville: "Well, he did try to get to you through me. So, he must want something."
Goggles: "I think he just wanted me out of his city. I still have a voice but...what good is it if I'm not identifiable. If I'm not one of them...one of the Lower Voices, you know? Now? I'm just a wanderer. An outcast. I'm no good to nobody except to get them riled up, angry, and scared. And that...fuck, man. That ain't what I wanted. I ain't never wanted to be that."
Archivist Melville: "Why...why the comic books, Goggs? Seriously, what the fuck were you doing? You could have been reading Emerson or Thoreau! Shakespeare! The founding fathers had some pretty fine things to say about revolution too, you know?"
Goggles: "Fuck all those white men. What the fuck do they have to say that's ever meant anything at all to me? Comic books...well, shit. Lotta white men behind them too...and in them, see? But...but they can sometimes transcend the person writing them. The characters are an amalgamation of lots of different writers and different minds and...and...they react to the audience. The characters, whatever race they might be, whatever sex...they reflect the audience. They're masked for a reason, you know. Bruce Wayne might be white...but Batman? Fuck no. Batman's a symbol. Spider-man's a symbol. Peter Parker may be white but why the fuck you think J. Jonah Jameson is so scared of Spider-man, hmm? Cause he's the unknown. He's the other. He's, you know, not white."
Goggles: "Take a character like Black Lightning. Written by a white guy. Talked like a jive turkey for a long time. Could easily be looked at as, well, as just another poor attempt at diversity that a white guy did all wrong. But he was also an educator that spoke white people just as well as any fucking white guy. But he knew the strength of language, and the place of language, and that speaking jive didn't make him uneducated...it transformed him into somebody who belonged in a very specific space. Oh, sure, it also helped hide his secret identity! But spoken language is important, and Jeff Pierce...or Tony Isabella? Who cares, really?...anyway, he, or they, knew just how important it could be. But you think the kids first encountering Black Lightning gave a shit about all that political and language crap? No way. This here was just some cool black dude with super powers that was going to get shit done. You think those kids cared that a white man was writing him? No fucking way. Maybe you can say it's manipulative. But you can't also say it wasn't fucking inspiring."
[Electric buzzing. Knocking noises. Another long silence.]
Goggles: "I don't know what I'm trying to say. I mean, race matters and yet, in comics, maybe it...you know...maybe it matters less. So I didn't want to foment revolution on the words of old white guys. I wanted to use super heroes. Fuck yeah, more of those bastards are white than need to be. But it's easier to obfuscate the person behind it all. Writers, editors, artists, multiple characters, masks...the fucking masks, see?...it's easier to inspire a wider range of people. At least...well, at least that was what I was thinking. I was thinking of Black Lightning. And, well, maybe a little bit of Katana too. Maybe I was thinking a lot about Barr and Aparo's Outsiders. They were more than just a team. They were a family, you know? And they were diverse. And they...they fought against the Force of July! They fought against unbridled patriotism! Think about that! They were revolutionary!"
Archivist Melville: "I can watch you talk comic books naked while smoking a joint all night, Goggs."
Goggles: "Shut up. It might be entertaining for you but I've been having to watch Moby shrink down into a little polywog there for the last few minutes. Put some fucking shorts on or something, why doncha?"
Archivist Melville: "You're a cruel woman."
[Shuffling sounds, static, and several grunts]
Archivist Melville: "Is this the comic you were going to talk about next? New Guardians?"
Goggles: "Yeah. Yeah, but...well...shit. It just depressed me. See, it's about this Lantern, Kyle Rayner, that's decided he has the right to change the universe so that nobody has to suffer. But one woman rebels against his ability to change her even though the change will make her happier. He shows her the suffering in the universe and how he's making it better but she still refuses to change because it's not his choice. It's everybody's choice."
Archivist Melville: "Aha. I see."
Goggles: "Yeah. What right do I have? I'm fucking tired, Mel. Maybe...maybe I should just drive off...leave everybody to figure the way forward for themselves. But then...I mean, how can...." *sighs*
Goggles: "Why the fuck are they following me? Why did they leave their lives, hunh? I regret leaving Buzztown! I regret my choices in Saint Lois! I'm beginning to regret this whole movement! All I do is regret my fucking decisions! And now I'm going to regret encouraging this nonsense! I already see the future. I see The Professor slipping out of the city when things got too hot. He had to live his life his way and he couldn't be responsible for anybody else any more. That's me. That's me, very likely...and very soon, I'm afraid."
Archivist Melville: "Why'd you leave Buzztown, Goggs? You talk about it like it was blissful and serene?"
Goggles: "I felt too guilty there. Skates, Alice, Little Tokyo, Tallyforth, Cummerbund...dead. All dead because of me...or, well, us actually. They made their choices as well. But why did those choices lead me to safety and paradise and them straight to their graves? I couldn't stay. I had no right to be there. But other people living in the hell of the cities brought about by the rich fuckers? They should have the chance. The people like Shizgiggles...still out there, somewhere...like my long dead friends...those people deserved happiness and comfort. But not me. Fucking hell, not me."
Archivist Melville: "Who the fuck do you think you are, Goggles? Fucking Moses?"
Goggles: "What? I...heh. Maybe. Yeah. I'm the fucking Muses, aren't I? Everybody deserves the Promised Land but me. Maybe. Maybe that's it exactly. Anyway, how about you shut your fucking mouth so I can get some sleep, hunh?"
Archivist Melville: "Goggles...I...yeah. Okay. Go to sleep, you dumb bitch."
Goggles: "Fuck off, old man."
[Clicking, shifting of leather on leather, loud slam. Rustling and static and, eventually, snoring.]
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