ACT 2 will be released one chapter per day. Here’s your email notification option.
As I stated on the ABOUT page, one of my motivations for conducting the lit experiment is to fee d out a number of ideas, about how we can build a better world, that I have failed to move forward over the years. Some of those are innovative biz ideas, others are systemic reform ideas. In ACT 1 I wove three of thos ideas into the story, in chapters 6, 9, and 13.
I also teased an idea I call Commonwealth several times.For your possible amusement, here is a Yahoo News report on my fialed attempt to get the idea to Richard Branson.
Commonwealth is revealed to the public, for the first time,in ACT 2. But I have broken the idea up, in attempt to keep the story from bogging down.
For those of you who are interested in the idea, here is a separate page where it is presented exactly as I have pitched it as a conceptual proposal.
This particular version was put together for POSTMEDIA, which is by far the largest newspaper conglomeration in Canada, so it contains Canadianisms that will be lost on those of you who don;t know nothing ’bout Canada. But if you’re clever enough to understand the idea itself, you’ll have no trouble disregarding the alien nomenclature.
Now, with no further ado, here’s ACT 2, boop-bopp-beedoo!
“…only the sci-fi geeks are clever enough to find a way to move us beyond money.”
“My friends in weird places might kill us all. In fact, they just might do that before this is all over, for one reason, or another, or just for the Hell of it.”
Madonna knew the answer, “We don’t do business with the big guys. The fuckers won’t have anything to sell.”
Madonna grinned, and feigned protestation, “I’m a good Catholic girl.”
“Sure… according to Zappa’s definition of what a good Catholic girl is,” laughed King.
“How much bigger is this idea?”
Lance smiled, “Within a year, we have our own bank, the largest in the world. Within five, we have our own sovereign nation.”
Over and over they fought for dominance, pulling each other’s hair, grunting and howling like rutting beasts. It wasn’t love making; it was ritualistic Klingon mutual rape.
Kitty wore not a stitch, as she hot-footed it through a Dali-esque forest on the northern bank of the Pigeon River.
Then, as quickly as you can say, ‘Jesus Fucking Christ.’ Jesus’ head was rolling on the ground, and his feet were playing football with it.
“Given how many of the chosen people will die after gathering to pray for protection, I wonder if anyone has considered accusing orthodox leaders of being Nazis.”
To be more specific, Madonna was wondering if Kitty already knew that she wanted to fuck Lance, and was already making plans to do just that.
“Gallant knights don’t fuck and run, leaving damsels out of dress in distress, with a bun in the oven.”
She was thinking ‘I’ll put a stiletto rigt through your esophagus,’
“But I’ll give you one last chance. I advise you to walk away, or I’ll open you up like a pig on the killing floor.”
“Oh, c’mon” King sneered. “Is that what you’ve got? Is that all you’ve got?|”
“Don’t you think we should produce a reality TV show from inside a slaughterhouse, Stephen? You’d be the perfect host”
“Madonna asked King, “So, what hurt more; losing the million bucks, or the humiliation?”
And here came Kitty Kaboodle, vegan crusader, hottie heroine, friend and defender of animals one more time, screaming down the helter skelter slide, like death from above, with all guns blazing.
“Unable to produce enough murder for every table, the braindead meatheads said, “Let them eat dog. And cat. And rat. And bat. And anything else that bleeds!”
When Kitty’s pretty little ass disappeared from sight, Madonna asked King, “So, what hurt more; losing the million bucks, or the humiliation?”
“The whole thing started when it became apparent that a Trump presidency was a real possibility. We knew he would be divisive. We thought that he might inadvertently do to the USA, what Gorbachev did to the USSR, namely fragment it. Balkanize it.
“You gonna make sure the tape is erased?”
“If he hasn’t already made a copy for himself, yes. I am going to protect the girl.”
“I would die a happy man if I could ever be one of your dancers. In a concert, or a video.”
“Are you gay?”
“Do I have to be?”
“Well, it wouldn’t hurt your chances.”
Madonna knew damn well her boyfriend wanted to see the girl get down and dirty. It comes with the dick, after all.
“The insanity of it all,” Miss Kaboodle said in wonder. “What a strange species
What a mad, mad world.”
Kitty looked at Madge and wondered how many blowjobs Commonwealth would have saved her from having to administer, and grinned.
“But if they’ll pay five bucks for a coffee, they’ll pay five bucks for a book, or album, or film. They won’t have a choice. They can’t force us to give them what we create.”
“Woman have been fantasizing about castrating men as long as men have been fantasizing about raping women.”
There was no mistaking the fact that the sexagenarian was being saucy, and Lance grew aroused, and horrified, simultaneously.
“Max was vile rich white trash. He used to have a large photo of him and OJ Simpson laughing their idiot heads off rigt above his desk.”
King, who had just been talking to his friend in weird places about Salmi, laughed a little nervously, and said, “Good luck with that.”
“What you need to understand, when it comes to Commonwealth, is that 99 cents of every dollar we ever pull in will be earned simply by starting the enterprise”
“Yes, but if a Mexican drug cartel leader wants to buy the Aussie’s book, for ten bucks, where’s the harm?”
“We’re going to see Bjork?” Kitty squealed. “I love Bjork!”
“Iceland has no military, so we just recruit a bunch of gun nuts, and take the island?”
“Without art, earth is just eh,” Madonna reminded everyone.
“Yes,” laughed Kitty, “but if you add sex, it’s fuckin’ eh!”
“After attempting to compete with Youtube, with Google Video, Google gave it up, and purchased Youtube for $1.65 billion, about a decade ago. Present value is estimated at $160 billion. And we are going to completely destroy it, using nothing but pennies.
“The Attorney General of the ‘Show Me’ state has climbed up on his hind legs, pointed a cloven hoof at Beijing, and commanded, ‘Show me the money, chinky-chinky Chinaman!’”
“So, when he appears in the confession booth, the priest is surprised. And when he confesses to a murder, the priest is shocked.”
Miss Ciccone did not deny the accusation that she wants to rule the roost at the Vatican. In fact, she laughed manically, and confessed, with an absence of contrition, “It has always been my wet dream.”
Kitty agreed. “Agreed. He can wear one of her bras as a mask, although one of Dolly’s wouldn’t be big enough to cover that yapper of his, but never mind that. ”
It’s always heartening to know that something that fired off in this massive, festering mess of looming dementia in my head has triggered a few moments of laughter for someone, somewhere!”
Stephen sat back, entranced. Two tasty tarts flirting with each other was about the best floor show an old man could hope for in a family restaurant.
“Do you seriously think she has to fuck a guy, or three of them, to get them to do what she wants them to do?”
“He makes a small fortune, which he doesn’t even need, peddling bunk Viagra around the world.”
“Bunk Viagra made in China?”
“Yes. Even better; it’s all made in Wuhan.”