That disgusting video by Rihanna (see yesterday’s post, “Abomination Video”) must have really gotten to me. I can set it aside while I’m awake; but while I’m asleep, it unsettles my dreaming mind.
With this amazing result: Last night I dreamed up an entirely new sub-genre of fantasy. I’m gonna make a fortune!
You’ve heard of “Grimdark,” right? The big new thing in fantasy: Grim + Dark. Everybody in the story is bad, and the baddest of the bad guys wins. Along the way there’s lots of violence, crime, cruelty, loveless sex, etc. (As every true interllectural knows, whatever is good, beautiful, positive, morally upright, and edifying is bogus, nothing but cheap “sentiment”; but whatever is evil, ugly, useless, immoral, and corrupting is “realistic.”)
Well, move over, Grimdark–’cause here comes Glumdark!
In Glumdark fantasy, which I invented in my sleep last night, all the characters are sad and the saddest of the sad guys wins–I mean, loses. In my dream was a Glumdark story in which all the characters had terminal diseases, and their space program was a bust because the zillion-dollar rocket went about 30 feet up and then crashed in my back yard. One of the characters checked into a motel and found his bed was full of bugs. Everybody cried a lot.
I realize this has been pioneered in later productions of The Hallmark Hall of Fame, bravely-dying-glamous-celebrity subgenre, but it needs to be brought into fantasy before it can really stretch its wings. Make way for the Invinclble Female Warrior who gets mauled to death by a squirrel, the All-Wise Wizard who makes a fool of himself on Jeopardy, and the star-crossed lovers who wind up fat, frowzy, and hating each other. And so on.
Like Grimdark, Glumdark makes fantersy much more realistic and interrlecturally respectable.
I mean, why be happy? Eh?