Racist Tv And The Army Of The Black Monkeys

[justsarah]

I guess I'll go ahead and post of one of my completed stories. I still have stories like Ethova, about a young woman unknowingly married to a serial killer, that have yet to be completed. So I'll go ahead and post this.

Just be warned, I say complete but its still a work in progress. Its complete, but I can always improve it. I wrote for a few magazine that were bad about giving non constructive critisism, as they didnt regulate comments at all.

Anywho, on to: Rascist TV And The Army Of The Black Monkeys.


Racist TV Of The Cultural Monkeys

by JustSarah


It is the year 2100, censorship of television has been replaced by racist commercials, graphic violence in television, and all around uncensored racial comments. There is a young man that goes to bars, flirting with girls of his favorite nationality.

Being a racist himself, he decides it might be a good idea to make a television show where the nations people are classified according to their stereotypes. Eventually however decides that he wants to break the mold, and show that people were not as stereotypically depicted. He felt it was a bad influence on the children after all.

He is able to establish a company, that produces a cartoon that unlike many, actually had character development beyond mere stereotypes. Dutch girls still wore wooden shoes, German girls still ate bratwurst, and Mexican girls still wore a Sombrero and Birkenstocks. Seeing as he considered his work done, and no more reform was needed, he put in his notice.

A few weeks later, he notices the shows have began to go through major revision since the original producer left. The cartoon was becoming like the others if not worse. Dutch girls merely the same stereotype similarly depicted in other cartoons, but there we no complex character interactions beyond establishing already held bigoted beliefs about different cultures.

So he did the only thing he could, show the producers what real black monkeys were like. One night he snuck into the zoo, and the captured a group of monkeys. After making a special deal with them about bananas, they made a special plan to take back the company. He would create a diversion that would cause the racist producers to think rabid black people were going to storm a protest at the office building. His army shall call themselves the black monkeys.

The next morning, the man readied his army of primates, and he made the call to his former office. He tried to see if he could sign up for another job, but do to corruption they found him not racist enough for producing the film any more. So he said to them on the phone, “Hey guys, I got to warn you.”

The man over the phone said “Yea?”

“An army of black, Mexican, German, Dutch, and Swedish monkeys are going to attack the company in protest for bigoted comments if I don’t get my company back.”

“Yea whatever.” The man over the phone on the other end said.

“Its time to party.” The man said to his pet primate friends, “Group one, I need you to dress of like native Africans, and attack the set with spears. Group two, I need you to dress of like Mexican girls in a sombrero and Birkenstocks. Group three, I need you to dress of like bratwurst sausages, group four needs to put on a Dutch-mans wardrobe. For the final group, you shall come with me. We shall dress up like Swedish queens.”

After they got dressed, he made one last call, “Hey guys, I got to warn you again, the army of the black monkeys are coming.”

So the man on the other end said “You think were afraid of a bunch of black moneys!?”

So eventually they stormed the office in their cultural wardrobes, and ran sacked the building. Eventually he is able to get his company back, the monkeys were returned to the zoo with an extra supply of bananas, the world developed more ethical television, and every now and then he visits of favorite fur balls.

[/Story End]

A few errors I can see already are, that I need to learn how to show more than tell, and certain lines are confusing.

I may post up my outline for my Vaccine trilogy, depending on reception. I didnt post that yet, as thats one story I'd rather
not lose motivation to trolls on.

If this thread ends up being posted twice, could I ask a mod to delete? I didnt see it in the submit your work thing, forgot to put a title.:3

Basically I'm trying to convey evolution from a hard bioled racist, to a person who fights racists.

This is one of those stories I affectionately call: Fart fiction

The first draft often sucks, very often make very little since on the first read.

[The Muse]

I think the term "Fart Fiction" is hilarious.

As to your story itself.....it seems more like a synopsis of a story. If you were to put more work into it and flesh it out. Build your character well enough so that the reader can SEE what drives him as well as how and why he evolves.

Build your world and a bit of its back story so that the reader understands how the world degraded to the point it did.

Explain how the communication with the primates was possible.

Develop you conflicts to give your story meat and teeth.

Over all its an interesting idea....would make a GREAT surreal alternate universe type of story.

[Omen]

Well... hold on, I'm still stunned.

Okay, here we go...

The potential for this piece is BIG! Racism, prejudice, Science Fiction, propaganda, psychology, and sociology are all present. This means that those that are a part of each of these groups will at least pause to study the concepts being delivered by this piece of work.

The title alone was one that makes the tiny hairs on one's back stand up and the person passing in the bookstore look around before pulling the book out to read the back.

You have succeeded at creating an EXTREMELY edgy piece of work. When people read this type of stuff, they are searching to see where you cross the line as a writer and place your stance in reference to racism. This one did a fine job walking that line.

I percieved this as more of a story 'pitch' synopsis rather than a full or short story itself. The cause for this was from the amount and levels of discovery you created for us readers.

You introduced a future society with a society of entertainment based on racism. This made me hungry to know what everyday life was for a person merely living in a city there.

You showed us how television drifted back to the same routines after something different was introduced. This made me infer that the propaganda engine controlling the masses must not only be strong in your world but impactful on the existing cultures there. It made me wonder if nations and boundaries were the same. It made me wonder about the effectiveness of religion.

These are just some examples as to what your work is creating and the opportunities you have to draw your readers in.

I would also explore the clarity of your theme making sure to reiterate it in a steady patteern amongst the sections.

Your talent to create 'skwillies' with your subject matter and work play is SOLID. This is a compliment. I bet you would do well with a psycho story or strained abnormal romance!

I will definitely look forward to seeing some of the other works that you've produced.

[justsarah]

Do I need to put my other works in this thread, or are others fine? I could go ahead and post it. If its the wrong place, I can ask a mod to move it.^^

Also, it was loosely inspired from A Clockwork Orange. I came up with it randomly when I went to this mexican restaurant.

Also, its in the same universe as Vaccine, but the main character in this story has his own series. That series explain why he eventually arrives in this series.

Life Of The Spider

By JustSarah

Vaccine: The Spi
Doctor Machida: So I assume you got the dark matter?
Otis: Roger Doctor Machida: What time is it?
LCD Monitor: It is now 13:05 hours.
Machida: Are you ready to change history?
Otis: Roger!

The scientist fired the engine, and at first it seemed everything was going to be just fine, except there was a bug in the system. The machines sparked, and caused the whole lab to warp. He tried to get Otis out, but it was no use.

Otis woke up from a black and noted he was not in Kansas anymore, so to speak. More accurately he was not in Iceland anymore, and the place he was in did not look like the Andromeda galaxy.
Instead it looked like he was in some forest. The scientist did mention wormholes were unpredictable were they might end up. He sure wasn’t kidding. Otis tried reporting his current situation to the LCD screen.

Cut to - a nordic blonde girl is seen tending sheep on the farm, and saw a huge explosion in the distance, and directed her sheep back to the farm.

Cut to - Otis is seen climbing out of his crashed spaceship. Before blacking out, the villagers looked at him as if he were some kind of weirdo. He was tired, so he collapsed when he reached the town square.

He woke up, and found himself lying on a bench.

The house was pretty much one long room. He assumed the fireplace was were they cooked their food, and apparently benches were their beds and chairs.

Otis: Talk about living it up. What year did I warp into?

An older man, and a younger girl in what looked like Norse outfits opened the door, and hurried to close the door before the cool settled in.

(The Girl): Now hold on a sec poppa, who's that guy.
(The Father): I found this girly man. I figured something must have been up, so I took him in.
(The Girl): I say we kill him.
(The Father): Nah, I got a better idea. If he's going to stay for a while, he might as well be useful.
(The Girl): So were did you come from anyway?
Otis: Oh, I came from the far east.
(The Father): Me and Halldora are going sea fishing. Now make yourself useful and gather some firewood.

And then they left once more.

Otis just hoped that other nordic girls wouldn't be like this one.

Otis:(Th) I wonder what her head would look like on a stick? ...

Otis snuck out of the house early in the morning. He could here villagers cursing at his ship as if it were the product of the fire god himself. So he had to go see what was going on.

The villagers were attacking the cabin, and he had no choice but to self destruct the ship, killing the farmers instantly.

He couldn’t go back now, so he had to find a place in town to hide. He found a small cottage not unlike the house he stayed in the previous night.

He knocked on the door, and what looked like a lady in her late 20‘s, greeted him.

(Lady At The Door): How may I help you?
Otis: This is urgent, and I need someone to hear me out.
: What do you need?
Otis: I have no idea what happened, but there was some kind of bug in the dark matter engine, so I somehow landed here. I was suppose to land in the Andromeda galaxy. Do you know of any hardware stores around here?
: Wait what?
Otis: What year is it?
: This is the year 1040, in the year of our lord!

She let him come in and get some rest. Maybe he was delusional from being tired, she thought. Halldora came by that house, and knocked on her neighbors door. (The Girl Outside The Door): Excuse me, have you seen a young trell around this part.
Young Women (At the door): Why yes, he said something about coming from the future.
Haldora: Ya, servants have no intelligence what so ever.

Haldora's slaves tried to drag Otis out of the cabin, but he was able to hold them off for a little while, beating to death two of them with his robotic arm. Haldora could see the crazed expression on his face, and the blood spurting out of their body. She was terrified.

Then Halldora blew a sleeping dart at his neck, and he blacked out once more. He woke up to find he was tied to one of their benches.

(The Father): You think you got it bad. I'd normally give you 700."

And while whipping up a storm on Otis's back, Otis had images of his childhood go through his head. Images of why he murdered his three victims before going back in time went through his head.

In a flashback, we see Otis gulping the last bit of his Merlot, and then he got up and went to watch the news.

Tonight’s topic was about an arsonist that died in a fire. The other story was about a WWIII couple that proposed after the war.

He turned the LCD monitor off, popped the light out, and went to sleep.

Briefly, he thought about his life up to now, and his third eye took over. He saw a young girl, about nine being pushed overboard by the waves. Otis woke up in a breathless panic.

The next morning, he felt a lacking of purpose, and a since of emptiness. He took a shower, had something to eat, and went to work.

While walking to work, he took a moment to reflect on his previous life before now.

Deeper into his past, we see that Otis was born into a lower middle class family, but visitors to the house would never think that. His parents were frugal, so much so that when he woke up in the morning, his door would creak, and sometimes even fall on top of him when he exited his bedroom.

Otis: Dad, please help me up.
Father: Oh stop wining, get up and get ready for school.
Mother: Your breakfast is getting cold!

Oh brother, Otis thought.

He didn’t really want to take a shower, but it was the only one that he was allowed to use. Smells would sometimes crawl up from their earthly tomb through the vent, it was a choking stink.

Otis always had to check for bugs that were crawling over the floor before he took baths and showers. When he was younger, he saw a spider the size of a small dog crawl over the tub, the image of its brown bristled back burned into his memory bank. By the time he turned 13, he decided he would do his parents a favor and clean up their restrooms. At least he could take pride in something. School life wasn’t much better, but at least he go drown himself in the ocean of books in the library.

And then otis memory flashes to when he had school lunches.

Random Voice In Otis's Head One: Hey Otis, hasn’t your mother taught you never to double dip.
Random Voice In Otis's Head Two: Isn’t that right short stuff.

And then the combined voices of the girls father in the present combined with the voices of bullies in the past and said:

(The Father): Just like a bug, squish! The final images going through Otis's head before he passed out was the bullies stomping crickets and roaches. And then his thoughts fade to black.

Otis:(Th) Just like a squished bug. But I wonder whats its like to be a spider?

[/end]

Its just a Vaccine side story thats currently in its first chapter. Basically Otis has varying experiments done on him by the time he arrives in the Vaccine universe, and he become the super villain The Spider.

I also have a rewrite called: The Blood Of Katolinio, which is an alternate original story for Otis.

The Blood Of Katolinio

By JustSarah

I

I woke up in the countryside, not remembering exactly how I got there. From my observation, it seemed I was far away from the big city. I could feel the wind gently blow across my soft, flowing, black hair, and in the distance I saw what looked like a Renaissance fair. An odd time to have one it seemed to me, since I always went to them in May when I was growing up. Funny how you get used to something and think that’s how it is everywhere. No one could have blamed me for being curious about this whole scene, though.

What the hell had happened, had I passed out somewhere and gotten dumped here? I could smell the moldy aroma of decaying leaves on the dirt road. It must have been about five o’clock, but I couldn’t pinpoint the time exactly because I had never really found the need to wear a watch, at least not until I arrived here. I walked along the road, taking a minute or so to observe my surroundings.

To be honest I wasn’t really sure where I was, because the roads weren’t paved, and there were no traffic lights. Actually, at that moment, not only were there not any cars, but it felt as if I were in Amish country. I took my flashlight out of my pouch, just in case it got dark enough where I couldn’t see clearly. I could see cows grazing across the fields, which was definitely not a normal occurrence in my town.

Farming had slowly trickled down to nothing over the last decade, and now in 2030 you almost never saw a farm animal. I finally reached the fare site, but when I arrived, there wasn’t a place to buy tickets. Not only that, but as I walked further into the odd town, the residents looked at me rather strangely, as if I were some kind of demon. My style of dressing, let’s call it decidedly feminine, was not the norm.

My hair cascading down my back might seem unusual too. When I arrived at one of the shops, there was not any kind of electricity. Nothing to indicate I was in the modern era. I walked up to the clerk at the counter.

“I’d like to purchase a coke please.” I said to the clerk, who gave me an odd look. I would have
to get used to those looks.
“What is a coke?” The confusion in the clerks face let me know he wasn’t yanking my chain.
“Never mind, just give me some kind of drink, if you will.”
“Sure.” I was impressed the clerk was being friendly enough, since he definitely seemed to think I was odd. The customer is alway right, I thought to myself. He gave me a drink that resembled some kind of pale ale. Then he said “That will be five pence.”
“Wait, you guys don’t take the dollar?”
“A dollar?” The clerk said, giving me another of his strange looks. This time I gave him my own puzzled look. What kind of hell hole did I pop myself into?
“Ugh, never mind. Can you just tell me where a bathroom is?” Surely they would at least have running water. He pointed me in the direction of the place that apparently passed for a bathroom to him. With a quick glance, I could see it wasn’t very clean. I thought:

That’s not a good way to generate business.

I wasn’t desperate enough to use it, and decided to wait until I could find a cleaner one. I started to thank the clerk and ask him where I was, and more importantly how could I get back to civilization, but he was busy with someone else at that point, so I left. I was thinking I would just try to find some generous family willing to let me in, show me where I was on a map, and help me figure out a way home.

II

Not too far down the road, I found that kind family. They were also dressed in the Renaissance theme, and I was impressed that the whole town seemed to get into the spirit of the fair. Fortunately for me, I had arrived just in time for supper. After being invited to join them, I began to eat the meal I was offered. The plates they used were definitely unique. They were more like a rock hard stale bread, flattened out to eat on. The man who seemed to be the father began to speak to me.

“So where are you from, you don’t dress like you’re from around here?”
“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”
“He could be from the far east!” The wife proposed that idea. I guess that would make sense to them, I thought to myself, the Chinese do dress a bit differently from people in the west.
I responded, “Well, honestly, I’ve been more interested in figuring out where I am than where I came from. I’m not hanging around. Heck, I never knew you could spend the night at a Renaissance fair.”
“A Renaissance fair?” one of the little girls asked. All the faces around the table looked at me like I was deranged.
“You mean you guys have gotten so immersed in this place that you forgot it was a fair?” I asked, figuring they would know it was a rhetorical question. Just a little joke. Nobody made a sound, they just gave me more of those odd looks, so I asked another question to test their sense of time and place. Hell, maybe it was me that was off, I had no idea.
“So what year is it anyway?”
“You’re being silly, this is 1063.” The wife said.
At first I thought she was joking, and struggled not to choke on my turkey leg. Then I noticed none of them were laughing, and were staring right at me.
“I think you might just be getting tired. I can ask the children to go make your bed.” the husband said.
“Yes, I would like that, thank you.” I was just glad they hadn’t decided to throw me out. I was extremely tired.
“Ann and Bobby, could you kindly go make this lady man’s bed?” Lady man? Interesting, it didn’t actually bother me to be called that, and he didn’t seem to say it with any bad intention. They climbed the handcarved stairway, and did as they were told. Nowadays I would have expected lots of complaining about letting a stranger in the house in the first place, let alone having to make the bed for him. I guessed this family had been brought up with old-fashioned values.
“Have a good nights sleep.” the wife said.
“Thanks.”

III

I had a particularly hard time getting to sleep that night. I was thinking about my less than honorable past, back when I used to vandalize cars and other property, and served time in a state prison. I was also suspected of about five murders, but I was never charged because there was not enough DNA evidence linking me to them. So I only had to serve about five years for the vandalism. With those thoughts on my mind, I drifted in and out of sleep, but eventually fell into a deep slumber.

The next morning, I was awakened by a horn blowing nearby, several times in a row, so that was it for my sleep. I went downstairs and asked the man of the house what was going on. He told me the horn was sounded when there was going to be an execution. Apparently some girl with a history of being a thief was going to be executed for murder that very day.

Of course I was still clinging to the idea that this was all some over-the-top production for the Renaissance fair, so I didn’t think they would do it. I have to admit, I was more than a little curious, as I bet most people would have been in this situation. By the time we got outside, there was already a crowd gathering around the scaffold. Then I saw a girl in ragged clothes, with chains around her ankles and waist, climbing the stairs. She looked about fifteen.

I began to have this sinking feeling, and was really hoping these people weren’t psycho. At the same time I felt this sense of anticipation, and seemed to become one of the mob here to see her die. I could see the girl pray to her heavenly father, and finally she kneeled and placed her soft slender neck upon the block. I was frozen by a mix of curiosity and dread, and felt a little bad choosing to just sit there and watch.

It was becoming all too apparent this was a real execution, and I was just standing there. I thought:


Had anyone even proved she was guilty, and
was death really the punishment for theft?


Once again I wondered where the hell I was, as I saw the axe tumble down, and then her head fall into the basket. Messy, but I had seen worse. However being up close and personal, I realized this one seemed particularly morbid to me. But I had no idea why. Maybe because she was just on the verge of womanhood, and I had briefly entertained the thought of her as date material. But either way the deed was done. She would not be dating me or any other.

Now it seemed obvious that I had entered some sort of alternate society, where the people had found a way to avoid the laws and customs of the modern world. I had heard of cults that separated from society for the freedom to live as they pleased, but this seemed pretty radical. I realized it might not be as simple to leave this place as I had hoped, since they wouldn’t want their existence to be discovered.

I decided to go with the flow, which meant another night here at least. Leaving so soon after the execution might make it seem like I was fleeing, maybe to report it to authorities in the next town. That night I couldn’t sleep again, but this time it was because I could not get what I had seen out of my head. I wondered why it was bothering me so much, since I had never really been an emotional person.

IV

I had done my share of unsavory stuff, but none of it seemed as inhumane as the act I had just witnessed. Somehow I managed to get some sleep, but then my third eye took over. I saw the executed girl in a white dress, surrounded by a blue glow and standing by a lake. She was staring at me. The confusion that had surrounded me since I had woken up in this hell hole seemed to melt away.

It wasn’t a good feeling though. The girl in my dream had revealed to me that I hadn’t stumbled upon some alternate society in 2030. No, I had somehow fallen through a portal into the ninth century, for the purpose of witnessing her execution. Why it involved me I still didn’t know. I just knew I had to get out of there, and fast.

[The Muse]

The first one...Life of the Spider sounds a lot like a screen play. The second sounds like a really cool novel. I liked Blood of Katolinio quite well...It is the most surreal time travel scifi story I have come across lately.

My only advice would be to try to better match the syntax and grammar of the characters to their appropriate time periods. But that was the only BIG thing I personally noticed.

[mmcgriff]

I really liked where you were going with the Racist TV and the Army of Black Monkeys. (And Fart Fiction is genius! LOL)

You're right, you could do some more showing instead of telling. Ways you can do that is:

Shifting the POV: you can tell it in first person or, for a cool twist, from the POV of one of the monkeys

Give an example of the TV programs you were telling us about that shows the blatant racism and paranoia

Go into detail of the monkey's ransacking the building.

Add in personal thoughts of the narrator. A simple gesture or thought can let us know how racist he is.

The art of showing and not telling is a hard one to learn so all it takes is practice! But I agree with Omen, this is definitely edgy work and I love the social angles you take with your work and ideas period!

[justsarah]

I see, like for example: The was Ed, the show about a black serial killer, there was San Jero, a show about mexicans have a burriot eating match after church every sunday, and there was my favorite, Tulip girl, about a female super hero that crushed bad guys with her wooden shoes.

Yea, Blood Of Katolinio was going to be a 96 page short.

Oh and, the blood is not entirely literal. Once my my edits the second half of that story, I'll make a thread with the two together.

II just hope when I make a new thread, the social backwardness of some of the culture in my stories arent to disturbing. I find it a bit disturbing myself, but i also wear my heart on my sleeve.