Saturday, December 3, 2011

Monkey Chaos 1.0

Many years ago, my son Ben Shearn, (whose blog "This list is life" is a must read for film geeks of all ages) told me that every year there is a monkey movie every year.
I for one would like to see Ben's list of the all time greatest monkey and primate movies of all time. Mine would be the original "Planet of the Apes."

So, I have written many scenarios for Monkey Chaos, my version of the genre. This is one of them. I don't remember writing it. And yet I find it, very much in my style.

This is me as a blonde.


Monkey Chaos  
by Nye Polanaise

Chapter 1
  
When Mickey Spilkes bought me a submarine sandwich in Lincoln Park in 1972, I had no idea that it was the prelude to the dissolution of polite society. After all as Freud once forgot to say, 'sometimes a hoagie is just a hoagie.' But Freud would have been wrong as was I and in a greater sense so was Mickey Spilkes.
    Before beginning his career as the subverter of Western culture, Spilkes was a gifted violinist, first chair of the Steelcase Symphony Orchestra. However in a tragic rush accident at Sigma, Sigma, Stigmata, Spilkes lost the use of his right hand and left eye brow. He was then unable to play the violin or react archly to any comments. And as this was before the days of the anti-depressant, he found work at the Chicago Zoo.
    There Mickey Spilkes found his soul mate, Ulysses, a nearly 600 pound lowland gorilla who could not sit anywhere he wanted. Ulysses had been expected to be the next Bushman or even Sinbad, popular animals beloved by adults of all ages and children from 6 to 7. Instead, Ulysses just grew fatter and spent his days sitting on a scale watching the dials go around.
    Mickey tended him lovingly and at one point thought of proposing but he felt self conscious about his eye brow, so demon-like he worked to create a formula which gave Ulysses the ability to communicate telepathically to other lowland gorillas and the guys who change light bulbs in really tall rooms. And what he communicated was a subtle message. And that message was "none of it matters, all life is pointless, give up while you still have a chance."

Chapter 2

    The telepathic assault was launched from zoos, circuses, rain forests, and certain television programs. It was supported by strange occurrences in rooms with high ceilings.
After years of this suggestion, the population became lethargic, disinterested, and motivated only by snack food and air pollution.
    Mickey Spilkes had won. Ulysses sat stuffed and mounted in Mickey's recreation of Carnegie Hall made entirely of Popsicle sticks and bags of Cheetoes. And me, I'm still on the road, looking for that next submarine sandwich.


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