Pissing Out The Fire Of Tyranny

 

So the house is on fire. The man our white trash relatives invited over to come set our house on fire has started shoveling burning coals right on the living room carpet.

What can we do but try to piss out the fire? Living in a house full of smoke that reeks of pee and scorched nylon is the best-case scenario for our immediate future.

So far the effort has been admirable. We all try to piss out the fire in our own ways, be it by participating in protests, punching Nazis in the face, making our voices heard on social media, or donating money to organizations which are better equipped and have more experience with pissing out fires.

Up til now, I've focused my only talent, the Power of Assholery, on making memes. It's just a trickle on the flames, not even coming close to the coals, but I thought it was the best I could do.

Then came along a hero with a powerful bladder who showed me it was possible to do more. His name is Dr. Chuck Tingle.

The hero America needs.

The hero America needs.

I was inspired. He was collecting other people's pee in buckets, and dumping those buckets into one of the most powerful piss cannons this country has. I could do that. Hell, I might even be able to do it better than Dr. Tingle himself. After all, I have the Power of Assholery, a sizable audience, and an abundance of pee jokes.

I could write a story set in my world of Caverns & Creatures, double the length of Dr. Tingle's book, and donate my profits from the story to the ACLU indefinitely instead of just for one day. What's more, I could see if my audio producer, Saturn Five Sound, would be on board to produce an audio version.

A few days later, I had written another goddamn masterpiece of contemporary literature. And how has the public responded? So far so good. At the time of this posting, my effort has earned a coveted orange bestseller tag next to the title on Amazon, seven 5-star reviews, and has raised over $300 for the ACLU.

If I seem like I'm patting myself on the back for my wonderful altruism, let me be clear that I'm not an altruistic person at all. Part of my success in self-publishing has come from long-term thinking over quick-and-easy cash grabs. The benefits I expect to reap from this effort are less tangible and immediate than the money I'll be happily donating.

It's one more title with which to drive up my Amazon Fantasy Author ranking.

Some people who've never heard of me will see the cover and learn of the ACLU donation, and buy the book just for those reasons. Some of them may even go on to read it and wonder aloud, "Who the fuck is this guy?", then be plagued with a need to sate their curiosity with my other books.

But the most important benefit will come years from now, long after the fire's been put out and the carpet replaced with some nice tile or hardwood flooring, and my kids and their friends discuss which side their families were on during Nazi-era America.

My kids will frown at first, and say "We lived in the Deep South, so most of our family were ignorant bigoted shitheads." Then they'll smile to themselves, pull their e-readers out of their bags, and say, "But my dad... Let me show you what kind of guy my dad is." And they'll show their friends this:

"He's my hero."

"He's my hero."


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