September 2010: You thought it was over. You thought you'd never pay 18 dollars for a book written by a marginally-talented, incredibly-handsome writer. You were right. This internet classic, a series of plays originally released by Six Gallery Press, finds new light this September. This September 11th, there will be a new holocaust. More reasonably priced and more widely available, this lost classic will reign supreme like Lord Satan pissing butterflies into the mouth of a broken legged Virgin Mary. Newly edited, newly right-justified, The Self-Esteem Holocaust Comes Home is sure to perform a psychic vasectomy. In Holocaust, we meet three violent policemen on the search for The Greatest Dad in the World. But why does one of the policemen have a ripped open face? And why is there a bus full of people heading towards an earth consuming fire? More importantly, why are two young men at a fast food restaurant talking about freezing bees? And good god, why are there two young ladies in the backyard during a halloween party, shaving each others' legs with a piece of a broken jaw bone? A looped video of a man with Down's Syndrome getting murdered with a baseball bat. A dead raccoon thrown into a tree. A pedophile waiting in the woods for his young boyfriend. A man alone in his apartment watching the people next door have a birthday party. An intact deer-spine for sale. Say what? What will become of the old woman who slits her young boyfriend's throat? And why does she call her boyfriend a name that is not his? And why does she give him a calculator for his birthday? Will anyone survive? Will this book fare well on goodreads? And when will the policemen be happy? Not until each suicides himself. This fall, the holocaust comes home. This fall, a scarcely reviewed book without a discernible genre becomes real, becomes paper, becomes something people are embarrassed to read. Where will you be when the self-esteem holocaust comes home?
You see him at the 7-11. You see him at the bus stop, trying to look at you without being seen himself. Who is he? He is a person. In this debut novel, a person walks around Chicago contemplating the possibility of starving to death on purpose. He borrows his roommate's car to drive around and then nap in. He goes out to look for a job but just talks to bums and imagines forming friendships with people on billboards. Who is the person? The person is you. The person is me. The person is sitting in his room shooting an empty pellet gun at his face, feeling the slow exhaustion of a Co2 cartridge against his frowning face. The person sits in a bathtub reading his roommate's yearbook. He considers the possibility of creating a piece of paper that is a contract mandating worldwide friendship. He buys food at Jimbo's and calls Jimbo after eating it, just to talk to someone. In every one of us, there is a person. In every one of us there is a person willing to spend ten dollars on a hundred page book, then review it on amazon. This October, a person says, "I am a person." This October, you will meet a person. This October, you will spill beer on this book while telling someone else about how it's "ok, but sometimes too much." You will see persons everywhere, and you will invent new and splendid ways of not getting along. You will read this book and remember why you mainly read books that have sex in them. You will become...a person.