Tragic Stories (disguised as jokes) is a collection of tales told by a monster to a demanding little girl.
Monsters are unlucky in love. Cupid explains. Some monsters are closer than others. There is a monster who only dines on one half of any available loving couple, A specialty. You can judge a person by their hat. If you want to protect your children (and see them less) you send them back in time. Hungry lions. The suicide machine built with love. Hate mail. Oscar Wilde judges the beauty pageant.
A bouquet of thorns. Falsely called the black book.
Sex Robot Cuddle Party & At the Existential Sandwich Shop;An older book: Perils of Free Thought: a book of no small dangerand my oldest books revised and reformatted for the world of the future, Scenic Cesspools (a novel of transgression)and Hard Fought Illusions of Choice.
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“Then no one shall have it!” said another monster, who was a friend, a foul-weather friend, of the first monster. “Anyone who complains shall have their sanity questioned!”
“Hear, hear!” said the number one monster, who finally felt validated by taking pleasure away from someone else. Which is what monsters do.
A third monster was paid 200 million dollars for formulating a policy paper explaining, breathlessly, why pleasure was being, must be, withheld from a large segment of the population, and why there was nothing that segment of the population could do about it. In fact, explaining how they were lucky.
The third monster was that kind of monster.
There are many kinds of monsters. They are a lot more supportive of each other than you might assume. They have to be. To get things done.