The Anathema of the Red Dwarf;
A Sermon to the Hypocrites of Detroit
A poetic drama in seven parts based upon a conversation overheard, August 2013
The Call
The Magician/Fool: I call upon Le Nain Rouge, my friend, the scourge of the land, to rise up with us and reclaim THIS land, for people, animal, vegetable, mineral, for those who came long before and will come, amen. The settlers have returned to settle the score, take back the isle, the water, and so much more. I fear their souls as my own.
Of course they designed not to know that this IS their intention, only the handful who are directing the show, the one’s with the dough, are in the know. it is not their intention, they’re cleaning the place up. The problem, my old accomplice, is that they are using your name, to move forward their lot, I know that you know they’ve been burning you yearly, a state sanctioned festive riot of fire and glut.
They’ve mangled your story, and marketed everything from beer to bacon with your name. What is worse, they’ve linked you with something I’ve yet to understand, they have rendered you in serve to the ruler of this, your own land. I know not to trust you, I know the score, this is not the first time I’ve stood at your door. We all are children of this white plague, but I think at this time there are more than enough things upon which we agree, not to take up the cause and dispose this lunacy.
Nain, my old friend, I ken you’ve spoken through me time and again. My vitriol, my spite, my fear in the night, my mother, my father, my brothers and sisters, along with their lovers. I do not know my own power lost friends. Nain, you are a slice of the fire, the Promethean light, that stings and sings in me, what do you say to my proposal today?
Can you speak to the people, speak in a way they can all understand, the white and the black, all the manufactured pawns in this multi- fronted attack? I know you’ll be harsh, pointed in fact, by no means do I wish to censor your ballast, but ask that you keep it well rounded and not spare anyone venom and their moment in the light of your night.
©EschatonLife