When Germany lost its collective mind, the United States and its allies took steps to restore sanity, hold the Nuremberg trials, and deNazify their culture. The deTrumpfication of the USA is up to us, and our first critical step is decisively to destroy the Republican Party, beginning with the 2018 midterm elections. This book discusses a strategy for doing just that.
Here, I lay out the heart of this plan. Later chapters in this fourth part of the book try to answer the obvious (to me) objections to my plan.
This chapter contains the first in a series of pleas to various types of voter. All off us must work in tandem to destroy the toxic Republican Party and to hobble Scrotus McShitGibbon as quickly as we possibly can.
The 2016 election brought forth into full view the true nature of the Republican Party as it has devolved since the days of Nixon and Reagan. Trump--with all of his insanity, stupidity, love of divisiveness, and malignant narcissism--is the perfect embodiment of the GOP in its current state. Here is somewhat of a manifesto from my first non-fiction book.
Uh-oh! God the Father’s done wigged out. Santa’s just reported that the entire tone and texture of Earth has darkened, in the USA especially, on his Christmas rounds this year. It seems a would-be tyrant is gearing up to tyrannize. America’s democratic republic teeters on its last legs, this mockery of a man having rent its fabric, perhaps irreparably, in the weeks since his highly suspect election. Checks and balances? Out the window. Sexists, racists, anti-Semites, science deniers, homophobes, fake Christians, and bigots of every stripe feel emboldened to publicly trot out the cockroach natures they’ve hitherto hidden. When the sanity God and Saint Nick wait for refuses to materialize, it’s up to them to visit this godforsaken fucker moments after his super-weird inauguration and, in the infinite space afforded them by magic time, repair his wounded psyche. Although it’s a psyche as warped and mangled as any God Almighty has ever seen, he has a plan. He has several plans. But one by one, they fall through. Holy Hannah! Will God and Saint Nick succeed in threading their way through this perverse morass of Trumpian motherfuckery? Or are they . . . well, you know . . . DOOMED TO FAIL? Hold onto your hats, boys and girls. You’re in for a wild ride!
From the afterword, what I have to say to everyone on the planet, regarding the let's-hope-not-lethal mistake of not stopping this petulant Baby-Man from rising to the highest office in the land and so immediately besmirching that office forever. This is not what the future of any of us looks like. It's a temporary aberration. I wish we Americans could avoid enduring this murderous travesty and could avoid inflicting it on all of you. But let my words from the afterword stand. Just know that our connective bonds, as loving members of the world-wide family of humanity, are far stronger than any of this slave to disconnection's attempts to divide us. We are here and we are strong. Abide with us!
The Republican Party has gone increasingly off the rails since Reagan. Look who they gave us as their candidate. Now these unAmerican monsters are poised to pass poisonous legislation while Trump distracts us with his tinsel madness. Keep a clear eye on these jackals. Defy them at every turn. Vote as many out as are running in 2018. Same with state and local races. GOP is a thoroughly tainted brand. Here is my plea to them as part of the 4000-word author's afterword.
From Chapter Fourteen, in which massed heavenly forces are destined to succeed in transforming Trump completely, new angels bring out the baby-man's dead and dying "better angels" and God has a moment with one of the latter, holding her in his palm and connecting eye to eye with her pain and suffering.
Invoking the power of fantasy, I give Trump one final plea. Along the lines of, do you really want to follow the path we all fear, that oh so predictable path? Wouldn't you like a superb legacy, instead of the damnable one you're currently charting? Give us all another surprise, but this one a complete turnabout.
I include two pleas to Trump in the author's afterword. This is the first of them. In the novel, Trump has what's called a Road to Damascus moment, referring to the mythic moment when Saul turned into Paul, a radical and sudden transformation into goodness. As I state here, I harbor no "realistic" illusions that Trump will change at all, unless it be to become even nastier than he is. But I most definitely harbor fantastical illusions, and here I share them. Let's call this plea an incantation. May it find its way into the heart of the monster and melt away his monstrosity!
In Chapter Eleven, God, Santa Claus, and other skilled immortals attempt to fix Trump's psyche in seven major areas of horrendous breakage. They seem to come close to succeeding, but it all crumbles into a massive failure. God withdraws and enters massive brood mode. Santa observes the Almighty Father and struggles for a plan to deliver a decisive win and save the human race.
The first conversation, such as it is, among Don John Trump, God, and Santa Claus. A scrappy, thick-headed, thin-skinned little shit, isn't he? God's a hothead as well, though we human beings give him plenty of reasons to be that way. It reminds me of The Ruling Class (I once played the shrink in a production at CSU, Chico, circa 1982) in which two crazies, each of whom believe they're Jesus Christ, are set against one another in conflictual conversation. Here in Chapter Three, we learn what drives God to take on the task of fixing the unfixable fucker.
And when God and Santa Claus arrive, what happens? The Almighty Father--Mocker of Heaving and Urp--loses his lunch for the first time in . . . well . . . in forever and comes within a quarter of an inch of showering Trump's face with divine vomitus. Hephaestus, in charge of the heavenly psyche factory, is called down to examine the sorry state of the demented fucker's psyche, bruised, broken, and blasted in so many places. Man, have our immortal saviors got their work cut out for them!
Prior to the arrival of God and Saint Nicholas, Donald John Trump sits behind the presidential desk, mired in the foulness of his thoughts and desires. Minutes before, he has forever tarnished the act of inauguration by being, well, inaugurated. Now the beastly, bigoted bamboozler of our worst nightmares sits alone, getting off on the coming abuse of power he intends to indulge in. But soon, our two immortal heroes will arrive to repair his broken psyche. Good luck with THAT task, guys!
Here's the Prologue in Heaven. I began similarly with Santa Steps Out. My God is awfully ticked off much of the time. In this opener, there's plenty to tick any deity off. Upshot is, it's time for a divine intervention to fix an unfixable fucker just inaugurated and about to begin wielding power he has no business possessing. I think you can guess the identity of this son of a bitch. Enjoy the opener to God and Santa Claus Trump Trump.
All told, the author's afterword come to 4,000 words. This excerpt presents the afterword's opening gambit, which is to lay out how the immortals . . . God, Santa Claus, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, and the Son plus an abundance of angels . . . spring from the first three novels in my Santa Claus Chronicles, those being Santa Steps Out, Santa Claus Conquers the Homophobes, and Santa Claus Saves the World. The excerpt also touches on why I wrote this short novel (about 22,000 words which makes it a novella). The rest of the afterword consists of addresses and pleas to various factions and to the unstable one himself. Please spread the word to your friends. The 99 cent price is temporary and this fantasy novel is as timely as they come.
“Visions far tastier than sugarplums dance in Santa’s head tonight . . .” His generosity is legendary. He has a devoted wife, a crack team of sky-borne reindeer, hordes of industrious elves, and the love of good little boys and girls around the globe. But what unholy desires now propel him into the lascivious clutches of a certain fairy? And who was he before sleigh and workshop, in times forgotten? She munches on molars, summons drowned sailors to her pleasure, and recalls, sharp as a pinprick, her life as the most savage of ash nymphs. Why then is she stuck, night after night, hovering above pillows to leave coins for gap-toothed brats? More important, how quickly can she captivate the jolly old elf to the north? He’s huge, fluffy, lonesome, and unbearably horny. On his Easter rounds, he contrives, as often as possible, to get a grip on himself and peer into interesting bedrooms. But who in the world will throw him down and ravage him as the lovers under his gaze ravage one another? For the answers, unknot that bright red bow, tear off those wrappings, and enjoy!
Here, from the Epilogue to SANTA STEPS OUT we find God, aka Zeus, delivering the Tooth Fairy's punishment for all of her "woman scorned" viciousness during the course of the novel. Here too we witness the birth of her thirteen nasty little imps, They play an important role as (primarily) antagonists in the sequels to this novel, SANTA CLAUS CONQUERS THE HOMOPHOBES and SANTA CLAUS SAVES THE WORLD. Does the Tooth Fairy deserve her fate here? You'll have to read the novel to find out!
Alas, in SANTA STEPS OUT, the Easter Bunny has been up to no good, that lonely, simpering voyeur corralled by the Tooth Fairy--via a bloody, savage fuck on the beach--into spying for her and worse,. Far worse. He and she return in the two sequels, Santa Claus Conquers the Homophobes and Santa Claus Saves the World. But here, God who used to be Zeus pays the Easter Bunny a visit and doles out an appropriate punishment for his sins.
Here, from Chapter Two, we are treated to Santa Claus returning home after his Christmas deliveries are done. We share the joy of the elves and his wife Anya. What we know, and they don't, is that jolly old Saint Nick has been seduced by the Tooth Fairy this night into an affair that is fated to last twenty years. Trouble ahead, then, as Santa's hidden Pan-side is activated little by little, an identity he has had no idea of.
From the opening of Chapter Thirteen, Santa Claus has a disturbing dream, only to wake to the horrendous vision of the Tooth Fairy savaging the toothless mouth of Wendy, a little girl who will eventually become immortal and Santa's stepdaughter. At thios point, the Tooth Fairy is a woman scorned, and hell indeed hath no fury like unto hers. In ancient times, she was called Adrasteia, the fiercest of the ash nymphs. Major trouble, then, for our sympathetic characters!
In Chapter One, Santa Claus has been seduced by the Tooth Fairy. Now, our poor saint has a guilty secret to conceal from his wife and his elfin helpers. Here I present to you Chapter Two in full. Santa has a newly awakened voice inside, the voice--as it turns out--of the Great God Pan, whom he used to be long ago but was fashioned to forget all about his lascivious, grasping past. Grim times lie ahead for an increasingly-less-jolly Saint Nick!
More than a dozen years having elapsed since my original author's afterword for Dark Highway Press (see my previous book bubble), I wrote a new one for the Deadite Press edition. BTW, [TITLE HERE] should read SANTA CLAUS SAVES THE WORLD, which was indeed published as my third Santa novel. Will there be a 4th novel? Who can tell. In the comments on Facebook, I'll add links to the book bubble cited above and to the sequels.
Here's what I had to say upon the initial publication of SANTA STEPS OUT from Jason Bovberg's Dark Highway Press. It's pretty straightforward, and I trust it will entertain you as well as fill in a lot of the background for the book's conception, gestation, and birth. Have at it, dear reader!
Santa Steps Out begins with a prologue in heaven. Now, when I wrote the novel back in the mid-eighties, it was far more difficult than it is now to find swear words in languages other than English. I somehow managed it, with what success or failure, dear readers, only native speakers will be able to judge. The gist of the scene is that, God being gone on vacation, something that should never have happened happens. Enjoy your humble author's opening gambit!
This excerpt is from Chapter Four and gives us a brief glimpse at some of Santa's elves, how one of them loses a tooth--quite the rare occurrence among these immortals--and puts it under his pillow. Bad idea! The Tooth Fairy, by this point in the story, has begun her long affair with Saint Nick and uses this opportunity to fuck him in his own bed while his wife sleeps undisturbed beside them. Oh such a naughty Santa!
Here's the opening section of Chapter Ten, "Invitations Accepted." By this point in the novel, Santa has abruptly ended his affair with the Tooth Fairy and, boy, is she steamed to the max. We have seen the voyeuristic Easter Bunny spy before. Well now, she'll recruit him with the most excruciatingly painful bout of bloody intercourse it'll ever be his pleasure to experience. Far greater suffering for Santa and his loved ones lies ahead. [You can tell, can't you, how much fun I had bringing these characters to life?]
Simple answer to that. I go into it somewhat in my Author's Afterword. Although I grew up in the 1950's with Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer seemingly always existing as part of the Santa mythology, in fact Robert L. May created him in 1939 while working as an advertising copywriter for Montgomery Ward. The president of that company--let us here credit and thank Sewell Avery--GAVE Robert May the rights to his work when it soared in popularity. And so, dear friends, Rudolph is under trademark or copyright or some such, and I thought it therefore prudent to give Santa another lead reindeer in my SANTA novels. Lucifer means lightbearer, so that name is the perfect choice. This excerpt is from Lucifer's POV.
Here in Chapter Five we're afforded a vivid picture of the Easter Bunny--his hens, his abode, and the mechanism by which are produced the goodies he delivers every Easter. We're also privy to his lust for Mrs. Claus and how he plans to win her over sexually. This furry fellow's a less than honorable creature, envious of Santa in so many ways and willing to violate human boundaries of behavior to get what he wants. Watch out for THIS one!
At the outset of Chapter Four, we are treated to our first extended view of the Easter Bunny, a lonely voyeur who loves to peer in at bedroom windows. In this case, the objects of his excitation are Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy going at it beside a sleeping Mrs. Claus. We'll see far more of this fascinating creature as the novel progresses. My research on rabbit behavior came primarily from two books: Marshal Merton’s A Complete Introduction to Rabbits and especially R. M. Lockley’s delightful The Private Life of the Rabbit. Feast your mind on this!
In this, the opening chapter of SANTA STEPS OUT, the Tooth Fairy--who is never to cross paths with Saint Nick on Christmas eve--seduces him over a series of three homes. More critically, Santa finds inside of himself a highly unsettling not-Santa. This in fact will prove to be Pan, King of the Satyrs, a vivid past life he has been made to forget but which will increasingly cause him no end of upset and trouble. If you warm to this opening chapter, you'll doubtless love the entire novel. Be aware that there are two sequels, namely SANTA CLAUS CONQUERS THE HOMOPHOBES and SANTA CLAUS SAVES THE WORLD. Enjoy!
It's that time of year again - when Santa Claus has to save the world! After conquering the homophobes, Santa Claus believes that humans can finally be nice instead of naughty. But dark forces from across history and mythology have other plans. One couple and their disintegrating marriage may just cause a chain reaction that will plunge the world into darkness and terror. So Santa and his pals begin an adventure from the North Pole to Heaven and Hell to save the soul of humanity. Robert Devereaux returns once again to the Santa Mythos that made him an underground horror fan favorite. The sequel to Santa Steps Out and Santa Claus Conquers the Homophobes combines pagan gods with holiday cheer and a large dose of sex and violence. Santa Claus Saves the World is a present for sickos of all-ages!
Here is the opening chapter of SANTA CLAUS SAVES THE WORLD, which begins with a serviceable epic invocation of the Goddess. We then catch up with the Tooth Fairy--she who was in ancient times the fiercest of the Ash Nymphs--and explore her devious intent. This is the third novel in my Santa Claus Chronicles, the first two being SANTA STEPS OUT and SANTA CLAUS CONQUERS THE HOMOPHOBES. Here, the task Santa takes on is to fix the human psyche entire, with some heavenly help to be sure, and with the concerted opposition of the Tooth Fairy. Enjoy!
Santa Claus is back. And flying beside him is Wendy, his freshly minted stepdaughter, who can peer into the future of selected children and offer them glimpses of the wonders ahead. But with that power come horrific visions of the turmoil and trouble the less fortunate among them are fated to suffer. Can Wendy and her stepfather prevent the suicide of Jamie Stratton in his teen years, as he grows up gay in a homophobic household and community? God the Father grants them three Thanksgiving visits to Jamie's tormentors, in hopes of bringing about a change of heart in them and eliminating their ingrained prejudices. Beyond the challenge of rescuing one precious child lies the far more daunting task of expunging entirely this brand of bigotry from the human race, as Santa and Wendy strive to remake the world in compassion and generosity. Along the way, they enlist the aid of the Easter Bunny, a highly persuasive fellow indeed. But the Tooth Fairy and her loathsome imps are hell-bent on doing all they can to stop Santa and Wendy-nay, to heighten mortal fear and hatred of anyone whose orientation strays even the slightest from the norm.
Here in Chapter One, the child-detesting Tooth Fairy takes stock as her Christmas Eve rounds finish and her loathsome imps return from their annual orgy of murderous mayhem against hapless child victims. Time then for bloody sex with Mommy. Oh man, is Santa--who was long ago the great god Pan and this former ash tree nymph's goatish lover--in for it!
Here's the opening section of Chapter One of Santa Claus Conquers the Homophobes, sequel it Santa Steps Out. While I'm straight, I have spent a lifetime engaged in theatre and music and so have many friends who sexual orientation differs from mine. This novel is my gift to them and a plea for not simply acceptance but embrace of these differences. Homophobia worldwide kills people, brings them unnecessary misery, and must be eradicated. Enjoy this opening gambit!
Oedipus . . . Freud’s favorite whipping boy . . . Ernest Jones’ ridiculous rationale for Hamlet’s mom-and-pop obsessions . . . and the most famous motherfucker of them all . . . Pity the ultra-discombobulated prince of Corinth, hoping for Delphic reassurance. Goggle-eyed oracle gawks and gasps his way, babbles her bullshit, and drops dead. A blasphemous bloke who claims oracles suck wind, Delphi worst of all, convinces Oedipus to head home instead of fleeing. There, they run headlong into the fecundity-drenched Festival of Demeter. Super-hot Queen Jocasta and her hateful, tiny-dicked hubby come a-visiting from Thebes. Makes the young prince’s pecker stand tall. He’s lost in bewilderment around Mom and Pop. And in a night of pitch-dark bedchambers and bare-naked thighs, a flurry of bed swaps lands them all in exceedingly compromising positions. How will our poor lad’s turmoils end? Who the fuck knows? Well actually, the blind bard knows. And trust me, this ain’t your great-grampa’s Homer, no way, no how! Fuck the Trojan War. To hell with storm-tossed Odysseus, the man of twists and turns. This Eros-inspired epic’ll have you twisting and turning, tossed in storms of ecstasy, as singlehandedly you read and moan and marvel!
Last night, I was reading Rachel Pollack's introduction to the new translation of Oedipus Rex (or Tyrant Oidipous as they prefer to call it) that she and David Vine did. In it, she briefly muses on what might have happened if Oedipus had not hightailed it to Thebes but instead returned home to Corinth. Would Laius and Jocasta have eventually come visiting, thereby keeping the oracular pronouncements on track? Well, that is PRECISELY what happens in OEDIPUS AROUSED. And the excerpt here brings Oedipus and us to that alternative decision. In my youth, I once had a comic book in which Batman and Robin give Superman on his birthday a huge (back then, you see) computer which shows what would have happened if Krypton had not exploded. All sorts of parallels proceed to crop up between Superman's earthly life and the one he would have lived on Krypton. Entertaining! And don't we all love stories in which a prophecy is bound to come true, no matter what choices a character makes?
Here in Book Seven, "A Mystery, a Riddle, a Dream," Oedipus and his cynical new friend, headed toward Corinth and a whole heap of ill-fated sexual encounters, run up against the riddling Sphinx, a terrifying creature indeed. Their answers to her riddles may surprise or startle you. But who among us are sufficiently knowledgeable in such matters to argue with Homer, the Blind Bard and the master of epic narrative? Not I, his lowly translator!
Delphi was the most renowned of the oracular sites in Greece, but there were scores of others scattered about the countryside. In OEDIPUS AROUSED, my retelling of the myth, Oedipus meets Pleusiddipus, a young cynic about oracles, and, for reasons revealed in Book One, they consult the oracle together. At the time I wrote this novel, I thoroughly researched what was then known or conjectured about Greek oracles and also our best guess as to how the oracle at Delphi was treated and her words interpreted. As you'll see from this excerpt, Sterope, alas, on her final day serving as the Delphic oracle, fares not well at all.
OEDIPUS AROUSED pretends to be Homer's long-lost and long-suppressed erotic epic, translated by me. In that way, my novel is somewhat similar to Vladimir Nabokov's PALE FIRE and William Goldman's THE PRINCESS BRIDE, both of which throw up the pretense that they are other than novels by those authors. My persona as the translator of OEDIPUS AROUSED bears quite a number of grudges against the university crowd, they who dare to cast doubt on the authenticity of the Homeric manuscript and on my bona fides. I had lots of fun researching Homeric scholarship and letting the details of that research plead my case. By the way, I really do have a PhD from the University of Iowa, major emphasis, the English Renaissance (Shakespeare and his friends), minor emphasis, Greek and Roman drama.
Caliban’s my name. Ah, but what’s in a name? You imagine you know me from The Tempest. But God damn that wretch Will Shakespeare to some special circle of hell. He had a nasty habit—recall Richard III—of skewing history to his own purposes. Caliban? He ain’t nothing like the inept villain painted by that upstart crow. I’m here to set the record straight. Bring my mom Sycorax, sorceress of captivating clefts, back from the grave. Relate how I came to triumph over her murderer, the magician Prospero. And through what peculiar magic I wangled my way into Miranda’s tight little body, usurping the bed-place of the prince Absurdinand . . . beg pardon, I mean Ferdinand. Inside? Wonders await. Caliban’s an open book. Or, with your kindly assistance, he soon shall be!
Chapter Two of CALIBAN, in which Caliban's mother, the witch Sycorax, relates the circumstances of his birth and the hell she endured nine months before that and beyond. The Algerian monster darkens her story considerably. Did I make all of this up? Hell if I remember!
Here's the opening chapter of CALIBAN. By the time Shakespeare's play begins, Caliban's mother Sycorax is long dead. In this chapter, we get a look at her, as Prospero and Miranda are about to land on the island. CALIBAN's first publication came in 2002 from Leisure Books, packaged with five of my short stories as CALIBAN AND OTHER TALES. This is virtually the same novel. In the first version, I oh so cleverly called the magician PopEros, an anagram of Prospero. No longer. At any rate, here's where all the fun begins! [Oh, and please know that lovers of Shakespeare will dig this book.]
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