Deis Deis Baby
This was in the Justice (the school newspaper I work on) last night. Funniest shit ever.
STEM THE TIDE: 'A Not-So-Gay Future'
By Jesse Singal
The year is 2033. Two shacks sit side-by-side atop a small hill of dirt. Surrounding the hill as far as the eye can see is a devastated landscape of smashed buildings and burnt-out automobiles, punctuated with large craters and strewn with skeletal remains.
The door to one of the shacks opens and JOHN exits, stretches, and sits down on a log. The remains of a small campfire sit in front of him, and he picks up a stick and starts listlessly poking at the faintly-glowing embers. Soon BILL, twice JOHN's elder, emerges from the other shack, still half-asleep, and joins JOHN on the log.
JOHN: How'd you sleep?
BILL: Not well. Those damn wolf-bats kept me up all night with their howling.
JOHN: Yeah, sounded like they had found themselves a band of helpless children or somethin'.
BILL: Yep.
JOHN: Were there always wolf-bats, Bill?
BILL: Don't be stupid. 'Course not.
JOHN: How about spider-cats? Or anteater-pigs?
BILL: No and no.
JOHN: But I... I can't remember much else. There is something, though, from when I was almost too young to remember. Things were... different.
BILL: That they were.
JOHN: What caused all this destruction, Bill? What destroyed all our... our... what was that word you taught me?
BILL: "Cities."
JOHN: Oh yeah. What destroyed all our cities?
BILL: You ever heard of Massachusetts, young John? Or the city of Boston?
JOHN: Think so.
BILL: Massachusetts was what we used to call a "state" and Boston was its capital. I lived there, before all this. Wasn't a bad place, either. I mean, the weather wasn't good and most of the people were miserable, but it was nonetheless a place I was proud to call my home.
JOHN: But what happened to it?
[BILL sighs and looks out into the distance.]
BILL: I suppose you're old enough for this now. What happened came only to be known as The Ruling.
JOHN: The Ruling?
BILL: The Ruling.
JOHN: ...The Ruling?
BILL. Aye, The Ruling.
JOHN: The Ruling...
BILL: Yeah. In it, the Massachusetts Supreme Court decided that anyone should be allowed to marry anyone, as long as there were a total of two people involved. In other words, it said that men could marry men and women could marry women. Isn't it just about the silliest thing you've ever heard?
JOHN: Not really.
BILL: Well that's because you're young, John. Young and stupid.
JOHN: Oh.
BILL: You see, after The Ruling, compassionate, God-fearing groups like the Christian Coalition and Concerned Women for America tried to warn everyone that this would destroy the institution of marriage, and that society would crumble as a result.
JOHN: ...And did it?
BILL: That's a stupid question, John. A stupid question from a stupid kid. 'Course it did. Two years after the ruling, riots broke out in every major city. Year later, vampires subsequently took over the House and the Senate. Sure, they were voted out during the next election, but by then, John, the damage had already been done.
JOHN: Then what happened?
BILL: Nothin' much. 'Cept for those flash floods in Death Valley. And the Great Termite Invasion of '09. And the cyborg attacks. And when the anti-cyborg cyborgs went nuts and joined up with the cyborgs. And the 41-city Rosie O'Donnell tour. It was hell, John.
[JOHN stares out at the wasteland wistfully]
JOHN: All because of gay marriage?
BILL: Yeah. I really can't believe they didn't see it coming. Those stupid secularists...
JOHN: What's a secularist?
BILL: A secularist, John, is someone who doesn't think God or His word should be reflected in the government's policy. When the dollar plummeted after The Ruling, they were baffled. You see, they had always preached that it was "sound economic policy" that kept the dollar strong, but us true Americans - we know better.
John: What was it, Bill? What kept the dollar strong?
BILL: The sanctity of marriage.
JOHN: Ohhhhh. What else did the sanctity of marriage do before the secularists destroyed it?
BILL: More like "what didn't it do?" John. The sanctity of marriage single-handedly ensured American military dominance, helped fight terrorism, paved our roads, flew our airplanes and kept our water clean. I could go on, John, but what's the point? The sanctity of marriage is now a relic of the past and so is the United States as I once knew it.
JOHN: It's a shame. It sounds like it was a pretty great place. Too bad about that ruling...
BILL: Too bad, indeed...
[Off in the distance - but not by much - a groaning, tired voice is heard.]
BILL: Oh no. It's that damn Carl Sagan zombie again.
ZOMBIE: [off-stage] Objectivity... scientific method... BRAINS! RARRRRGGGHHHH!!!!!!
BILL: Sounds like it's getting closer, John. We better head in.
JOHN: No, I can't.
BILL: What the hell are you talking about? Get inside right now!
JOHN: No. I would rather be disemboweled by the zombie of a famous American astronomer than live in a world that could have been different if not for gay marriage.
BILL: You're... you're serious about this, aren't you?
[BILL looks JOHN in the eye for a moment and the two embrace platonically]
BILL: You have guts kid, I wish I had the courage to do the same.
JOHN: [tearfully] Tell your grandkids about me, Bill.
BILL: Oh, I can't have kids. Tree-climbing accident. I will keep your name alive though, young John. Now I better hurry in.
[BILL scampers back into the safety of his shack, leaving JOHN facing the audience as he waits out the approach of the slow but methodical Carl Sagan ZOMBIE]
BILL: Whhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy???????????????
[All lights fade]
THE END
Take that, Dad.
STEM THE TIDE: 'A Not-So-Gay Future'
By Jesse Singal
The year is 2033. Two shacks sit side-by-side atop a small hill of dirt. Surrounding the hill as far as the eye can see is a devastated landscape of smashed buildings and burnt-out automobiles, punctuated with large craters and strewn with skeletal remains.
The door to one of the shacks opens and JOHN exits, stretches, and sits down on a log. The remains of a small campfire sit in front of him, and he picks up a stick and starts listlessly poking at the faintly-glowing embers. Soon BILL, twice JOHN's elder, emerges from the other shack, still half-asleep, and joins JOHN on the log.
JOHN: How'd you sleep?
BILL: Not well. Those damn wolf-bats kept me up all night with their howling.
JOHN: Yeah, sounded like they had found themselves a band of helpless children or somethin'.
BILL: Yep.
JOHN: Were there always wolf-bats, Bill?
BILL: Don't be stupid. 'Course not.
JOHN: How about spider-cats? Or anteater-pigs?
BILL: No and no.
JOHN: But I... I can't remember much else. There is something, though, from when I was almost too young to remember. Things were... different.
BILL: That they were.
JOHN: What caused all this destruction, Bill? What destroyed all our... our... what was that word you taught me?
BILL: "Cities."
JOHN: Oh yeah. What destroyed all our cities?
BILL: You ever heard of Massachusetts, young John? Or the city of Boston?
JOHN: Think so.
BILL: Massachusetts was what we used to call a "state" and Boston was its capital. I lived there, before all this. Wasn't a bad place, either. I mean, the weather wasn't good and most of the people were miserable, but it was nonetheless a place I was proud to call my home.
JOHN: But what happened to it?
[BILL sighs and looks out into the distance.]
BILL: I suppose you're old enough for this now. What happened came only to be known as The Ruling.
JOHN: The Ruling?
BILL: The Ruling.
JOHN: ...The Ruling?
BILL. Aye, The Ruling.
JOHN: The Ruling...
BILL: Yeah. In it, the Massachusetts Supreme Court decided that anyone should be allowed to marry anyone, as long as there were a total of two people involved. In other words, it said that men could marry men and women could marry women. Isn't it just about the silliest thing you've ever heard?
JOHN: Not really.
BILL: Well that's because you're young, John. Young and stupid.
JOHN: Oh.
BILL: You see, after The Ruling, compassionate, God-fearing groups like the Christian Coalition and Concerned Women for America tried to warn everyone that this would destroy the institution of marriage, and that society would crumble as a result.
JOHN: ...And did it?
BILL: That's a stupid question, John. A stupid question from a stupid kid. 'Course it did. Two years after the ruling, riots broke out in every major city. Year later, vampires subsequently took over the House and the Senate. Sure, they were voted out during the next election, but by then, John, the damage had already been done.
JOHN: Then what happened?
BILL: Nothin' much. 'Cept for those flash floods in Death Valley. And the Great Termite Invasion of '09. And the cyborg attacks. And when the anti-cyborg cyborgs went nuts and joined up with the cyborgs. And the 41-city Rosie O'Donnell tour. It was hell, John.
[JOHN stares out at the wasteland wistfully]
JOHN: All because of gay marriage?
BILL: Yeah. I really can't believe they didn't see it coming. Those stupid secularists...
JOHN: What's a secularist?
BILL: A secularist, John, is someone who doesn't think God or His word should be reflected in the government's policy. When the dollar plummeted after The Ruling, they were baffled. You see, they had always preached that it was "sound economic policy" that kept the dollar strong, but us true Americans - we know better.
John: What was it, Bill? What kept the dollar strong?
BILL: The sanctity of marriage.
JOHN: Ohhhhh. What else did the sanctity of marriage do before the secularists destroyed it?
BILL: More like "what didn't it do?" John. The sanctity of marriage single-handedly ensured American military dominance, helped fight terrorism, paved our roads, flew our airplanes and kept our water clean. I could go on, John, but what's the point? The sanctity of marriage is now a relic of the past and so is the United States as I once knew it.
JOHN: It's a shame. It sounds like it was a pretty great place. Too bad about that ruling...
BILL: Too bad, indeed...
[Off in the distance - but not by much - a groaning, tired voice is heard.]
BILL: Oh no. It's that damn Carl Sagan zombie again.
ZOMBIE: [off-stage] Objectivity... scientific method... BRAINS! RARRRRGGGHHHH!!!!!!
BILL: Sounds like it's getting closer, John. We better head in.
JOHN: No, I can't.
BILL: What the hell are you talking about? Get inside right now!
JOHN: No. I would rather be disemboweled by the zombie of a famous American astronomer than live in a world that could have been different if not for gay marriage.
BILL: You're... you're serious about this, aren't you?
[BILL looks JOHN in the eye for a moment and the two embrace platonically]
BILL: You have guts kid, I wish I had the courage to do the same.
JOHN: [tearfully] Tell your grandkids about me, Bill.
BILL: Oh, I can't have kids. Tree-climbing accident. I will keep your name alive though, young John. Now I better hurry in.
[BILL scampers back into the safety of his shack, leaving JOHN facing the audience as he waits out the approach of the slow but methodical Carl Sagan ZOMBIE]
BILL: Whhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy???????????????
[All lights fade]
THE END
Take that, Dad.