What if Buddy Dooley and an unnamed co-conspirator, the first-person narrator, simply took Portland over?
Or tried to.
They're community organizers and they're fed up. They go place-to-place in the city to work up the crowd--to foment revolution.
This would be like a sweeping historical epic in their minds; in reality they would drink too much Merlot and craft beer while meeting an assortment of resistors, lunatics and other archetypes. They would advance, parry, retreat and reengage. Each new day would vaunt hope. Each evening despair.
They would bungle the job, of course, but learn a hard lesson. Mankind is disinterested--except regards each individual's search for salvation, or quest for wealth, or hunt for martyrdom.
Except in the cases of the do-gooders, who would join the revolt without question.
The reader would not know until the final curtain whether this is a dystopic or utopian vision--and maybe even then the tale's moral meaning would be elusive enough to confuse everybody.
Hmm...
I'd call it "A Delirious Catatonia."
TS
Or tried to.
They're community organizers and they're fed up. They go place-to-place in the city to work up the crowd--to foment revolution.
This would be like a sweeping historical epic in their minds; in reality they would drink too much Merlot and craft beer while meeting an assortment of resistors, lunatics and other archetypes. They would advance, parry, retreat and reengage. Each new day would vaunt hope. Each evening despair.
They would bungle the job, of course, but learn a hard lesson. Mankind is disinterested--except regards each individual's search for salvation, or quest for wealth, or hunt for martyrdom.
Except in the cases of the do-gooders, who would join the revolt without question.
The reader would not know until the final curtain whether this is a dystopic or utopian vision--and maybe even then the tale's moral meaning would be elusive enough to confuse everybody.
Hmm...
I'd call it "A Delirious Catatonia."
TS
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