FORGET DICKENS, RE-READ ELLISON!

 

Harlan Ellison’s “Santa Claus Vs. S.P.I.D.E.R.” kept coming up on my social media (who sez it doesn’t do any good?) It was always one of my favorites, so I re-read it. Ahhhh! Just what the doctor ordered and in these troubled times.

For those of you who never read the story, Santa Claus is not just himself, but a James Bondian secret agent. S.P.I.D.E.R. is an evil organization that has taken control of some high-ranking U.S. government officials circa 1968. It’s outrageous, wildly imaginative, and hilarious. 

It’s also the sort of thing I’d like to recommend to people born post-Star Wars who think all his work is depressing and don’t understand how he became a big deal. For me, it’s Harlan at his best, having fun throwing words and ideas around, and targeting those who drive him into his legendary rages. Depressing stories win awards—they’re considered more “literary”—but he could be funnier than Douglas Adams and more gonzo than Hunter S. Thompson in his manic mood.

My idea of a great read.

Dare I suggest a new tradition? Instead of dragging out Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” re-read “Santa Claus Vs. S.P.I.D.E.R.” It's more in keeping with the way the world is going.

It would be fun to read it aloud.

I’d also like to see adaptations, graphic novels, animated holiday specials, movies!

Sure, the actual politicians skewered are now forgotten (some of you reading this have probably never heard of Richard Nixon), but now they come off as amusing grotesques. If any kids are curious, that’s why Quetzalcoatl gave Google.

Also, even though Harlan may have objected, it would be fun to replace the Forgotten Ones with modern equivalents. Who is the 21st century Ronald Reagan? Lyndon Jonson? George Wallace? 

I’ve found that with satire, these things don’t get old. All you have to do is change the names to expose the guilty. What goes around comes around, unfortunately.

Meanwhile, make merry while you can!

What if in a few decades, people think of Ellison rather than Dickens?

 

CHICANONAUTICA SEZ “JOAQUIN . . . JOAQUIN . . . DO YOU READ?

Chicanonautica, over at La Bloga, reviews Scott Russell Duncan’s Old California Strikes Back.

What is Old California?

Who is Joaquin?

What's with this Zorro guy?

Where is it all going?

MY DIABOLICAL PLANS FOR 2025

“MOOHOOHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

This calls for a mad scientist chortle. I’m getting ready for the new year.

And what a new year:

First, I’m not going to let the returning president get me down.  I’ve got better things to do. 

Next, I’m going to get more aggressive about finding a publisher for my novel, Zyx; Or, Bring Me the Brain of Victor Theremin. I’m rethinking everything about it, taking that bizarre state of what passes for civilization these days into account. Expect me to rant at length about this later.

Then, there’s the growing pile of short fiction that I’ve created over the last few years . . .

So far this century, most of my sales have been the result of editors coming to me, and I sell about the same amount as I did when I was beating myself up submitting everywhere and racking up rejections. These stories are not being read and that makes me feel bad, so I’m going back to the grind again. I’ll be surveying the market, and submitting regularly. I’ll report on what happens.

Also, l’m once again resolving to draw more. Gotta keep those chops. Who knows, I may need some illustrations, or graffiti, or something. And like I’ve said before it does good things to my brain.

I’m going to need my brain in top condition. There’s going to be some ugly shit happening in the next four years. 

Strange things are growing in my gray matter already. Monsters are bubbling up out of my id. I’ve got to let them out or my head will explode.

I hope to transform it all into art and literature.

I’m working on a new story—I should confess that I haven’t written any fiction since finishing my novel last year—and it’s called “Once Upon a Time in a Mass Deportation.” It’s got this smartass Chicano being interrogated by the National Guard, and things get . . . maybe a little more gonzo than magic realist. I’m using it for an example of how I do the voodoo that I do so well as part of an online writing workshop that’s part of a Latin@ Futurity class being taught at the University of Illinois Chicago.

These days, the Global Barrio extends to Chicago, and beyond. Sounds like sci-fi to some, but it’s my reality.

With a bit of luck, the students will be infected. Weird shit will start growing in their brains, and they will start committing acts of speculative fiction. And all this cultural mutation will be turned loose on the Trumptopia 2.0 . . .

“MOOHOOHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

I wanted to be a mad scientist when I was kid. It may happen yet.

Now, if only I had time to create a sarcastic filk song about it to the tune of In the Year 2525 . . .