(Note: Over the following few days these stories will have a decidedly political bent. A fiction writer does not necessarily agree with his or her characters’ observations. Fiction is written with “a voice”. It is not necessarily the author’s own. That’s what I reckon anyway…)
Myra Cozens has come up with an astonishingly resourceful idea. It circumvents the necessity of rewriting books of note; for example, the removal of that shockingly sexist and terribly unhappy Heathcliff in “Wuthering Heights”. We all know that Heathcliff was ill-fated because he had to sublimate his transsexual proclivity. It’s perfectly obvious that the sometimes-narrator of the story, Mr. Lockwood, was obsessed with and in love with Heathcliff. When Catherine says “I am Heathcliff” we know exactly what she means. If the whole entanglement of the novel could be simplified and everything called what it is then the novel might be able to be taught in our schools.
Myra Cozens’ astonishingly resourceful idea does away with the contemporary necessity of having to remove Heathcliff from “Wuthering Heights” altogether. Not to mention that horrible drunken sot in “Jane Eyre”, Edward Rochester. In fact most of the characters in “Jane Eyre” need purging from its pages.
The list of books goes on and on. Is there a book that does not need to be revised?
The astonishingly resourceful idea is to publish these novels on black paper with black print. It does away with every novel that drips of xenophobia and obviates the dominance of whiteness on every page. What a boon this will be! What a saving! No more expensive editors paid to cull offense-oscity from the pages of the classics. Let us purge the need for purging pages! The future is black print on black paper! Such a simple idea! Thank you Myra Cozens!
You’ve no idea how enraged Brianna’s parents were.
“We did everything right,” said Ruth. “We did everything by the book, and look at us now. Brianna is all of seventeen and has got a Valentine’s Day card. FROM RUSSELL. Where did we go wrong? Russell’s heterosexual. Can things get worse? Yes they can.”
“We brought Brianna up to respect transsexuals. How humiliating is this? I’m almost too embarrassed to be seen in public. Everyone will know. I told you she should have had that operation when she was seven. And now this Russell Hetero-raving-sexual sent her a Valentine’s Day card.”
“Oh my God,” wailed Olga. “Have you seen this Russell fellow that sent the card? He’s white. We brought up Brianna to respect black people and now she gets a card from a white racist. Our standing in the community plummets by the minute. This is soul destroying.”
“Oh!” screeched Winston, Brianna’s third mother. “We brought Brianna up to respect other cultures and now she gets a Valentine’s Day card from someone who’s not a foreigner. Come here Brianna. Come here instantly!”
“Brianna,” said all three, “we brought you up properly and you’ve become racist, homophobic, and xenophobic. From now on we disown you. You’re on your own, you disgusting ungrateful personage. You have shown no respect. Get out of the house.”
“I forgot to tell you,” said Brianna. “I’m pregnant.”
(WARNING: Like at most rallies this speech contains obscenities).
I find your presence here in this auditorium stifling. There are four hundred and twenty-four of you present in this one room. Have you considered how overwhelming this is to those with autism? And you’re acting as if no one in the world suffers from claustrophobia. There are no windows in this auditorium. The air conditioning simply instils panic and alarm in sufferers. We must be attentive to the needs of others.
Excuse me. Yes. You. The lady in the pink cardigan. Would you mind not making little comments behind your hand to the person beside you. Not only are you spreading germs on your hand, but the hubbub of noise alarms those of us who are sensitive to unwanted noise. How can we concentrate on the speaker? To say nothing of the applause. Clapping must surely be one of the most insensitive mannerisms invented. Please simply wave your arms in silence. No? Yes you in the ripped jeans. When I say wave your arms I didn’t mean guns. Which should be banned. I would ask security to accompany you outside. With that attitude you should be lined up against a wall and shot.
I find it threatening that so many of you are sitting facing the stage. Turn around and face the back of the auditorium like civilized people. It’s male dominance which produces this obsession with having their penises face the speaker. Everything is to do with masculine in-your-face arrogance. The front the front the front. All males are to turn around and face the back! In fact, a nearby venue has been set up and I would request everyone move to the hall across the road so as not to be so intimidating and aggressive and toxic. We’ll have none of that cock and bull nonsense that’s been going on for centuries.
That’s better. Now that we have an empty hall I can get on with my speech. Need I remind you, if there are any questions, that you are not to use any sexist pronouns? We must be welcoming here to all. We are not racist or homophobic or xenophobic like those horrible fucking inhospitable bastards who do nothing but instil fucking hatred in society. They should be shot along with every other white supremacist on the planet who refuse to piss in a transgender bathroom because of the fucking hostility they hold to those who are not like them.
Now can we continue? The chairperson of the National Poultry Association has asked me to speak at this convention on Predator Control When Raising Chickens.