Cannibal Pygmy Goat vs. the Oil Slick from Hell


So I’m working on this novel. It’s about horrible monsters from beyond space and time ripping big gaping holes in the very fabric of reality, threatening mankind’s survival across the multiverse. I’ll probably be throwing in some Satanic horse poop too.*

It’s unfortunate that this novel bug has gripped me at this particular moment, because I’m already busier than a three-peckered goat (thanks for that expression, Ken Rolstron!). The project that I’m on at work is nearing completion and I’m grinding out steaming mounds of text at an alarming rate. Also, there’s this blog. I’m starting to regularly get tens of hits on it and I don’t want to kill my “Murfmentum.” It’s all quite exhausting.

Cannibal Pygmy Goat Monster will Eat Your Soul!

On the other hand, writing is a huge distraction from the news of the day, so I have very little time to be outraged by the crap people are pulling in the world around me. For instance, I’m hardly infuriated at all by the thought that BP may have purchased so much political clout that they’ll escape major penalties for their “little accident” in the Gulf.

See, according to this Newsweek article, BP has spent millions and millions of dollars in Washington DC on lobbying efforts to weaken Federal offshore drilling regulations and lower penalties. Also, over the years they’ve put a bunch of the “Beltway” elite – folks like Leon Panetta (current CIA director), Christie Todd Whitman (former EPA director under Bush II), and former Majority Leader Tom Daschle on their payroll. I’m sure that these Very Important Dudes serve in Very Important Positions, like “Director of Appearing in Photos in the BP Annual Report,” and “Special Liaison to Other Politicians Who Really Want to Get Grotesquely Overpaid Corporate Jobs After they Leave Office.”

With all of the dough they’ve spent on politicians, BP may get off with a wrist-slap and a stern talking-to on TV by angry-looking Senators (all of whom will have taken their campaign contributions over the years). This doesn’t piss me off even a little. I’m just too damned busy writing.

Now THIS is fucking scary!

But here’s what does piss me off. When writing a horror novel – even a zany and wacky horror novel like the one I’m doing, you have to think of really awful, terrifying things to make your readers’ skin crawl. And frankly, it’s hard to think of anything more horrible and terrifying than an oil slick the size of Puerto Rico headed toward people that are just starting to dig their way out from the effects of Hurricane Katrina. That’s the worst thing I can imagine – far scarier than the Cannibal Pygmy Goat Monster I was going to put in my crappy novel.

So now I’m just screwed.

Hey, BP: stay the fuck off of my turf, willya? You stick to what you’re good at – buying influence in Washington – and I’ll stick to what I’m good at – writing bad genre fiction and raging impotently at huge soulless corporations and corrupt politicians. Okay?

Unless you’re looking for new board members, in which case, let’s talk. Call me.

 

__________________________

*They say that you should write about what you know.

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5 Responses to “Cannibal Pygmy Goat vs. the Oil Slick from Hell”

  1. letmebeyoursong Says:

    I always get writing urges in the middle of midterms or a giant project in which I have zero free time too. I think it’s our creative brains needing a release during stress. That’s my theory.

    Answer to this problem: vaseline monster. Makes you feel greasy and fills your orifices until you can’t breathe or swallow. Use the petroleum to your advantage!

  2. Slick Says:

    I recently heard a story on On the Media saying that too much attention was being put on whether the oil spill had hit land. It could be destroying every single living thing in the ocean, but you just can’t see it.

    I just mention this to brighten up your blog. Frankly, it all seems a much more effective way to destroy the world than ripping asunder the fabric of time and space. That really takes a toll on your joints, especially at your age.

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