A Book to Damage Children
While taking the occasional breather from pounding the Worst President Ever, it’s a netroots tradition to promote a book, preferably one’s own. So, having put in my time pounding, I’d like to briefly promote. My novel has been published just this week by Doubleday, and it has an unhealthy, unwieldy title, impossible to remember: Milrose Munce and the Den of Professional Help. Doubleday calls it “Young Adult.” I don’t mind. It is aimed equally at Old Adults, but my real purpose is to is mutilate the minds, souls, and political sensibilities of innocent children.
Now, I don’t believe in politicizing kid lit — mostly because edifying fiction puts even the most Ritalin-addled youngster into a coma. But I could not resist devoting half a sentence to the barbarism of the Toxic Texan.This half-sentence might seem innocuous, at first sight. You might even miss it. A child certainly will. Yet it is designed to plant a pernicious seed: the zygote of a bad bad thought. The children of Bush-lovers, in particular, will — when this seed quietly sends tendrils into their vulnerable, receptive crania — slowly become their parents’ worst nightmare. They will grow, right before Mom and Dad’s blinkered eyes, into drug-addicted homosexual Stalinists, promiscuous and pagan, with FULL HEALTH INSURANCE.Nothing to be done about this. It’s a hardcore half-sentence. And, as we know, gay card-carrying crack-addicts — dedicated to UNIVERSAL HEALTH CARE — tend to vote Democrat.
When read by a child lucky enough to be born to decent parents, however, Milrose Munce and the Den of Professional Help accomplishes something slightly less malignant. This half sentence (potent, and potentially illegal), causes such children to look up terms like “habeas corpus.” It makes them write papers — in sixth grade! — about the perils of a unitary executive. Worst of all, it moves them to oppose torture in all of its forms; and they will cruelly ostracize classmates who pull the wings off flies.
Again, despite this subversive agenda, Milrose Munce is designed primarily as a twisted novel for smart, sarcastic kids. It will probably amuse adults (who can be almost as intelligent). It will appeal, I hope, to those who cast a wary eye upon Harry Potter (except for that series’ SUBLIMINAL SATANISM — which is a joy to encounter, however you feel about popular kids who are really good at sports).
Children of gun-toting autocrats are, of course, innocent. We should not condemn them for the sins of their womanizing fathers. No, what we must do is quietly eat away at the foundations of their nascent, numbing ideology. We must rescue them from their personal Guantanamos. It is only through rigorous literary subversion, I submit, that we can turn these children into pot-smoking, Mao-loving, same-sex-addicted Radical Democrats, with FULL HEALTH INSURANCE. And that is the goal — the subversive raison d’être – of this potent and virtuosic half-sentence, subliminally inserted somewhere in the otherwise harmless pages of Milrose Munce and the Den of Professional Help. I fully expect this Extraordinary Sentence to win me Extraordinary Rendition, but it will have been worth it.
Okay, I’m lying. The half-sentence isn’t really that good. But the rest of the book is pretty swank, and I hope you’ll buy it.
(Milrose was published last week in Canada; the UK pub date is next spring, and the American date has yet to be nailed down. So for now you’ll have to buy it on amazon.com: Milrose Munce and the Den of Professional Help. But hey: we netroots types have that technical savvy required to shop on the interweb.)