Lately, the world has been a bit topsy-turvy.
Maybe I am looking at it through a looking glass…
Or did Barry Allen make an ill-advised trip, and travel back in time, so now that we have a paradox on our hands, so to speak?
(Not to be confused with our beloved Earth 2, where science accelerates at a rapid rate, and villains are the mayors of cities and heroes are well…kinda douchebags, actually.)
Maybe I traveled into an alternate reality, where Superman is the adopted son of undocumented migrant workers, and has a really, really close relationship with Zod, and Batman is literally backwards, and kind of sucks…
Well, actually no.
Not that I am knocking on any of the above, and wouldn’t be open to a little possible experimentation…
Although I could argue that Barry Allen and his ill-advised time travel has had some kind of effect on my reality…
After all, the Cubs are World Series champions!
And we may not have Leonard Snart as mayor, but hey, we have a Cheeto for president! So maybe that time travel did do something!
Now, if only it had won me the lottery…
Or at least given me cool super powers!
Okay, back on topic…
I have actually traveled to alternate reality, even though that trip to Earth 2 is still on my bucket list.
In other words, I have read a book written by that Bachman fella…
Well, I am really not sure if those guys are one in the same, even if that whole story about death from cancer of the pseudonym is slightly suspicious…
Hey, you never know. If young boys and and middle-aged priests can “die” in one world, and be re-born into another (cooler) world, maybe writers can be stricken with cancer of the pseudonym, and end up being re-born on the Sons of Anarchy level of the Tower, where the writer in question takes a grisly sort of janitorial type of job, collecting macabre souvenirs as a form of payment…
Okay, again back on topic.
So, I read a Stephen King book.
Yeah, water is wet, the sun rises in the east, and Cheetos make terrible leaders of the free world…
So what else is new?
Well, this book is actually new, at least somewhat.
As most of us probably know, early in his career, The King of Horror decided that he would like to write non-horror stories, every now and again.
While King has actually written some fantastic books that can be classified as not horror (The Talisman, 11/22/63, Different Seasons and The Eyes of the Dragon all readily come to mind), early on his career, he was bound by some silly rules about how many books he could publish in a year.
Somebody thought that there was such a thing as too many Stephen King books! And they thought I was the crazy one!
So King did what any sensible King of Horror would do. He created a pseudonym.
As far as I know, this pseudonym did not come to life and murder people, forcing a flock of birds to be called, so they could carry him off, kicking and screaming.
(However, if he is employed by the friendly folks known as SAMCRO, all bets are off, as you gotta do what you gotta do to survive over there in the charming town of Charming, California.)
King named this pseudonym Richard Bachman. And for a while, that Bachman fella did pretty well for himself.
He wasn’t a horror writer, per se. No, Bachman explored the darkness of human nature. Man’s inhumanity to man, in other words.
He wrote of violence at school, corporate greed and of a dystopian government, that might actually not be fiction at this point.
And Bachman also wrote of our obsession with television, and our need to be constantly entertained, even at the expense of the feelings (and maybe even lives) of our fellow man.
In other words, I am currently reading The Running Man.
Dicky Bachman has come out to play.
So let’s indulge him, as we read and dissect The Running Man.
And, as always: