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:: Alternate realities I may or may not envision frequently ::
Monday, April 12, 2004
I wrote this little piece last night:
Zef was the biggest castrati boxing promoter in the city, but it came at a price. You were only as good as your fighters' last bouts in his line of work, and lately things were falling apart. His last three had ended in draws. Draws. Even bribing that sleazebag of a judge hadn't helped.
It was getting harder and harder to find motivated youngsters willing to... apprentice themselves. Even when they did, he loathed the bloated whales they became.
To make matters worse, he was developing an obsession with The Misfits. A full-fledged, scary preoccupation. It came from nowhere, and he hadn't the slightest inkling why. He'd heard some of their albums back in high school, but that was decades ago. He never went in for their macabre antics, even if some of it was campy fun. But now he couldn't ditch a compulsion to listen to their entire collection over and over.
Glenn Danzig was in his head. Now with a day's worth of distance and retrospect, I'm going to try and figure out what in the blazes was going on in my head. Clearly this Zef fellow is a thinly-concealed morland inasmuch as he's really good-looking and has women hanging on his every word. The Misfits/Danzig obsession could be seen as a metaphor for my fear of death, but the encounter with the city alderman in the back alley of the brothel speaks to an exacting perversion to which I can't lay claim. I think all the equine imagery (and constant reference to heroin by its slang name "horse") is meant to parallel Zef's rise to power with that of the Roman equestrian class, which was more than a little bittersweet as the republic, struggling to reconcile the ideal of representative democracy with the practical considerations of a senate now forced to appease the swelling ranks of this newly-empowered warrior caste, was forced to metamorphose into an empire. To save its body, Rome sacrificed its soul. Just like Zef.
Ok, I'm free-associating at this point. End of entry.
(You too can name-drop circa-1980 hardcore-punk innovators and Roman aristocracy in a single entry! Just get a blog. Tell 'em I sent you.)
Posted by morland @ 08:52 PM
:: Comments ::
On a Misfits related note...
Do you think that Danzig wouldn't have quit to start his solo career if he knew how sucky he'd become?
Posted by: The guy who lives in vail but is moving on April 13, 2004 02:54 AM
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