The Parochialist

The Parochialist
Masked and Parochial

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Davey G and the...is the handle for writer, performer, musician and sports fan, David G. Cookson. This blog (as the late George Carlin would say) is just a place for his stuff.

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Thursday, February 28, 2008

A Parochialist exclusive! A Davezine preview!

Some of you may have noticed there wasn’t a post last week, and for that, I apologize. I’ve been working on something big, something that has taken up a lot of my anti-City Paper rage. Now, for the first time, I present to you the prologue to my new story about the City Paper, the full version will be out next month in Davezine 13.
Low Level Bureaucrats 3: The Rise of the Collective


Prologue
One issue of last week’s Beatown Weekly hung in the window of the red paper box on the corner of 30th and Martin, just hours before a new batch of issues would arrive. It was unusual for Beatown Weekly to remain in the box for so long, but this had been a slow week--the second week of October typically was, and it didn’t help that the rain that had been beating the box for days had been steadily soaking the edges of the display paper.

At Another Planet Café, the last paper had been picked up about thirty minutes after a stack had been dropped off. At the Corner Deli, the last paper was gone within 2 days. At O’Reilly’s Pub, the last issue was being used to sop up vomit from one of it’s patrons.

The issues that had made it into the hands of Beatown residents had directed many of them to a whole range of activities over the weekend. And now, Tuesday night, the new one was only hours away.

*
I gotta go home, thought Darth Rexman, the goateed, mid-thirties editor of the Beatown Weekly. He drained the last of his coffee as he pored over the prototype of the latest issue. He stared out the window into the Beatown night, and saw a bum peeing in an alley, then watched as a police officer came upon him to “ask him a few questions.” It was all part of the “zero-shenanigans” police policy that had been in place since the O’Flannery administration.

Rexman watched the mini-drama unfold as the bum looked for his apparently non-existent ID card, and then was summarily handcuffed and detained, to await the appearance of the Beatown Paddy Wagon.

Rexman looked on, disgusted with what had become of this city since O’Flannery had taken charge. This was his legacy: a place where everyone gets locked up, and nobody can park anywhere.

It was late, and he was tired. But now he was inspired.

He began to write.

At 12:30 a.m, after letting out a big, wide, expansive yawn, Rexman decided to call it a day. It was frustrating when things weren’t right. But he supposed that was the sign that he was on the right track, for being completely satisfied with ones work leads to completely unsatisfactory work. Or so said that stupid “self-affirmation” sign above his desk.

He shut off the lights and headed down the three flights of stairs.

Rexman, still locked in his thoughts about this week’s issue, found his beat up old Civic right where he left it, now the only vehicle on the floor of the parking garage. He pulled out his key and headed toward it, thankful to be at the end of long day and wondering if his wife would forgive him again for coming home so late.

He slumped down in the seat of the Civic and put the key in the ignition, when he felt a cold sweaty hand over his mouth, and a sharp pain in his neck, and then…blackness.

*
A few minutes later Rexman came to. Where am I? His hands were bound by duct-tape as he realized he was in the tiny backseat of his own car, which someone else was driving. He looked at the driver. “Who are you? Where are you taking me?”

The driver kept his eyes on the road, not turning his head. “Relax, Mr. Rexman.” The voice was raspy, cold. Rexman could see the man had a gaping hole of baldness on the top of his head, and what little hair was left was totally gray.

“Who are you?” he repeated.

“Well, Mr. Rexman, we’re just gonna take a little drive, so just relax. As for my name? Love. Karl Love.”

Read Low Level Bureaucrats 3: The Rise of the Collective in next month's issue of Davezine #13!!!

Links!!!
Brian Morton's Blog
http://www.smirkingchimp.com/thread/13120

Movies
Charm City Cineaste
http://charmcitycineaste.blogspot.com/

Comics
This Modern World
http://www.thismodernworld.com/newest-comic/

The Maakies
http://www.maakies.com/

The Perry Bible Fellowship
http://www.pbfcomics.com/

Music/Events

Music listings.
http://patsdistrict.com/music_scene/maryland_music_scene.html
http://www.bmorelive.com/

Other Weekly Features
Michael Shermer’s E-Skeptic Newsletter!
www.skeptic.com/eskeptic/08-02-27.html

The Straight Dope
http://www.straightdope.com/columns/080222.html


Anything you think I should link to? Drop me a note!

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About Me

My photo
Davey G and the...is the handle for writer, performer, musician and sports fan, David G. Cookson. This blog (as the late George Carlin would say) is just a place for his stuff.