This message Excerpts from the novel "Life in Parodiopolis" was posted by Wright Sullivan on Thursday, November 29, 2001 at 18:41.
The following is a series of excerpts from Wright Sullivan's novel, Life in Parodiopolis. His previous works, all non-fiction, include "Rising Dragons: The History of China's Vigilante Underworld", "21st Century Corporations and Their Superheroes: A Return to Feudalism?", and "Remnants", a collection of photographs commemorating the damage done during the 1999 Skrunk Invasion. He works as both a writer (Parodyverse Emporium Press) and photographer (Timer, Newswave). He's a University of Parodiopolis graduate, with master's degrees in geopolitics and visual art. Currently, he resides in Parodiopolis, and lives alone, or with his ex-wife, depending on which time of the day it is. He's won awards for both his writing and photography. He's the only photographer to have had his work simultaneously appear on the cover of the five major news magazines, all in the same week.
Prologue: A Personal Note From The Author
If you're anything like me, you always notice when your home gets mentioned in the news. Though I've lived in Parodiopolis for most of my life, I was born in a small city in northern California. I haven't been back there in years, but whenever I see a country-wide weather map, I find my eyes wandering to Cali. I hear about forest fires on the West Coast, and I can't help but stare at those tickers on the bottom of the news-channels, waiting to see if it's anywhere near my old turf.
Considering that I'm involved in journalism, you'd think that I wouldn't be affected by the attention. I'm in the middle of the action every day; I should be dulled to it, right? But some tiny part of me gets an emotional charge from seeing a piece of my life enter into mass consciousness. It almost feels like I've been validated--yes, I exist, and the place where I grew up exists, because we've seen it on TV.
And, it feels good to be on something other than the receiving end of "media-anxiety". Most of the time, we sit there, watch, and feel like victims. We aren't part of what's going on. But then we become a "story", and people pay attention to us. For a little while, our homes are among the top stories in the news. Despite our proximity, we probably don't have any more control than someone far away--but the illusion of it is enough to keep us satisfied. We can talk like an expert on the subject, because we were there. Important events are taking place where we live, which means that We Matter.
Most of the time, this is minor. Just a curiousity; something to fill an extra minute or two of air-time. Other times, when something bad happens, the place becomes inexplicably linked with the event. The attention turns sour--there's so much of it, old secrets are dug up; and everyone points fingers, trying to shift the blame for what happened. American examples of this would be Columbine, Waco, and Pearl Harbor.
A single event can change both a city and its perception, forever. An earthquake, a terrorist act, a riot, even something as "simple" as a murder. The city's future has to be built around this monster of the past. Most of the time, it's largely unspoken. You've probably heard a friend or relative make an "I would...but..." statement. They would do something, but given the city's certain weakness, they don't feel safe.
What happens when you live in a war zone? What's produced by a combination of nonstop media attention and a string of disasters? I'm not talking about a third-world country...no, I'm referring to what many have declared the unofficial capital of the world. If a city can be torn apart by one horrible incident, and the attention it brings, how can a city survive dozens, or even hundreds of them?
And what about the people in it? Earlier, I mentioned my personal investment in my old hometown. What do you get when, just as a normal citizen, you're living amidst the chaos? Fear, adrenaline, perpetually-changing plans, all of the above?
Chances are, you've seen my current home on the news. Be honest: when you see a superhero fight on TV, do you really pay attention to the cityscape behind it? When you think of Parodiopolis, what comes to mind? For most people, it's "superheroes". It's a city with superheroes in it. Is is that simple? Is that the only thing that makes it different?
There are a lot of books about Parodiopolis. Most focus on superheroes, and the culture that's grown up around them. A lot of them focus on people who have actually met or been saved by the heroes. This book won't be about that. Don't think that I'm against those types of books--on the contrary, I have an entire collection of them. I just think that someone needs to shine the light on the actual city of Parodiopolis.
It's a bit like being in love. It happens, and you can't remember when your life didn't have this person in it. Living in Parodiopolis, it's difficult for us to remember that not everyone is personally experiencing these events. We're so immersed, we've almost lost touch with the everyman. We forget that the rest of you need to know.
In this novel, I'm hoping to take you beyond the half-glimpsed Parodiopolis--the out-of-focus city that you see in the background of the six o'clock news.
Welcome to the front lines.
Chapter One: Individuality Incorporated
I'm not much of a historian, but to understand the city's personality, it's important to know that of the man who created it. Then, we can see how that spirit continues today...
The 1860's: it was a battle America had never seen--one where they were fighting against each other. Every wealthy man on the East Coast was doing his part to help in the war effort. However, most hadn't yet set their sights beyond that. They figured that they should just worry about keeping the country together, rather than keeping its forward momentum.
A notable exception to this line of thinking was Wilbur Parody. An eccentric millionaire, Parody had more reason than most to get involved in the war. Rumors and folklore told of his questionable background--his ancestors had been explorers, who ventured into Africa. He'd actually spent a good deal of his life on the then-"Dark Continent".
Curiously, the exact source of the Parodys' wealth has been lost to history. All we know is that they were adventurous scholars, who entered strange lands to discover new things.
A large segment of the Parody family's past is missing, where his great-grandmother or grandmother--then a young woman--was allegedly taken captive by a slave-ship. She apparently escaped, but not until she'd lived in servitude for a decade or more. Several mysterious deaths of slave-traders have been pinned down to the time when she's supposed to have escaped.
The incident bonded them to the plight of the African people. The Parodies were very progressive for the era, and treated humans as humans, no matter what their color. This may be because several generations of Parodies grew up alongside black children, and became their friends. The genteel society of the day didn't want to accept it, but it was hinted that some of the Parodies had inter-married with the natives.
According to alternative historians (and late-nineteenth-century gossips), Wilbur Parody's interest in the occult was fostered in the jungle, fueled by witch-doctors and primal spirit beasts. Parody would become a notorious recluse: after living in the jungle for so long, one can imagine that being surrounded by an ugly, barely-industrialized city might be unseemly. Especially when rumors of a love affair with a tribal princess surfaced--two teenagers, alone in a steamy jungle, too hot for clothes...it's easy to see that city-life might seem dull after that.
At the time, high society thought that Africa had "corrupted" him. The more time he spent there, the more he learned of strange legends and ancient energies. His way of thinking gradually changed...forged in the heart of a dark land, he believed that he was one of the few humans to see life for what it truly was. Rather than civilization, he saw raw, uncensored nature, both external and internal. And he saw mankind's ability to rise above it. This caused him to draw unknown conclusions about life, which, many say, would drive him for the rest of his time on earth.
Later, he attended Oxford, as well as a university in what would later become Parodiopolis. He excelled in school, to the frustration of those who believed that new ideas made one stupid. He kept both his agenda and interests fairly secret.
But, back to the 1860's. When everyone else was caught up in the present, he saw the beginning of a pattern that would later define America. Change was coming--and it couldn't be stopped. The South was fighting a losing battle. Economic and social factors created an invincible equation of progress. He foresaw the Industrial Revolution, as well as America's need to create a new icon, one that would help them move beyond the Civil War.
A new city would deal with both matters. Of course, it would really be an old city, but it only had to look new. Despite his personal desire to fight against slavery, he knew that they'd succeed without him. Instead, society needed something only he could provide. As the war waged on, he discreetly took control of the American city that he'd studied in. By now, he was fully in control of his family's money.
The majority of the city's redesign was completed before 1870, though it would spend the next three decades growing. As usual, a childbearing boom followed the war, and when combined with the Industrial Revolution, Parodiopolis exploded in population. From his hidden throne (his secrecy is strange, given that he named the city after himself), he introduced a number of ideas that were strange and new to that era. The city's government was incredibly efficient, and everything just seemed to flow smoothly.
Despite his strange nature, Parody had a natural rapport with the business world, and attracted many "radical capitalists" to the city. He gave them more freedom to experiment than they'd find in other places, and because of the leeway, they had a large amount of success. Parodiopolis became a mecca for all things financial and administrative. At the same time, a subculture of strangeness was attracted to the city, thanks to Parody's unique personality and social ideas.
However, many thought that the city would be a short-lived experiment at best. Rumors of his occult interests and non-white love interests had spread across America, and when combined with his non-traditional methods, many were just waiting for him to fail.
During the 1880's, Gothametropolis York was born. The Industrial Revolution took even stronger hold there; and in just a few years, they'd caught up to Parodiopolis, rivaling them in size and power. They were far "safer", and defined their image as a sea of hard-working families.
In truth, children were being forced to work in factories, women had far less freedom than they would across the river in Parodiopolis, and working conditions were awful. Such was the price of success--those in charge of GMY refused to lose to Parody, so they worked "their" people extra-hard, making up for Parody's intellectual advantage. He was aware of this, but he refused to do the same.
An interesting quote from Parody, during that era of competition: "They've chosen to throw in their lot with a trend. The industrialization that's sweeping the nation may be strong now, but will it always be? For myself, I'd rather gamble on human drive, imagination, and resourcefulness. I don't see how that could ever go out of style. Give me new methods, anything strange or powerful that mankind has made, stolen, or otherwise gotten its hands on. I'd rather rely on those things, than work innocents to death."
As time passed, the working class in GMY became bitter and fed up. When unions formed, many businesses were no longer able to make a profit. "Muckraker" journalists--most notably, the then-young GMY Squire--brought the cracks to light, and it was over. As we all know, GMY became a cesspool of poverty and corruption. Parody was--is--right: he chose to build Parodiopolis' foundations on individuality, something that'll always be around.
With the exception of a few landmarks, Parody left strict instructions that the city was to be "continuously modernized". He didn't want it to be anchored in one era of history, or one way of thinking. These landmarks are well-known, but we don't always see the full cityscape. When it is seen, people often mistake it as European. It looks sleek, futuristic...
Let's be honest: Parodiopolis is a magnet for the weird. Superheroes are just an outward symptom of this. The city's free-spirited nature, both in business and culture, has created an atmosphere found nowhere else on earth.
Individualists seek out this city, thirsty for the freedom it offers; the highly-charged creativity it cultivates. One of the best examples of this is Jamie Bautista, owner and CEO of Bautista Enterprises. It's an oxymoron--an honorable corporation. Not only is it the city's largest employer, it also offers the best salaries, benefits, and conditions of any corporation in America. Its products are cutting-edge, and they give more to the community than they get. Aside from the Bautista Foundation and its various charity projects, they created and employ NTU-150, who protects their corporation (saving the taxpayers a lot of money), and also acts as a general superhero, stepping in wherever he's needed. Plus, the Baustista Foundation helps fund the Lair Legion, and I'm sure I don't need to tell you about their resume.
Keep in mind, I'm speaking as an anti-capitalist with near-anarchistic tendencies. You won't find this kind of businessman anywhere else--just another reason why Parodiopolis is special. Yes, the people we attract are bizarre, crazy, and often outcasts, but they're incredibly good at what they do.
This is equally true for the city's cultural scene. Many books have been written about both Parodiopolis' and GMY's musical underground. Quite a few popular (and skilled) recording artists have been born and bred in the success/loss dynamic that stretches across the North River.
The same can be said for actors. Much of the current "New Brat Pack" wave can be traced to Parodiopolis' legendary Midtown theatre district. The most high-profile of these is Lania, who manages to work with Hollywood, while keeping her dignity as an actress.
I could go on, and list more anamolies, more oxymorons that shouldn't exist. But somehow, everything in Parodiopolis manages to work together. Business and art, government and individuality, capitalism and charity, security and freedom, superheroes and the population. Why is this? It sounds egotistical, but why are we so culturally compatible?
Chapter Two: Two Worlds, One Planet
At the end of the prologue, I welcomed you to the front lines. You may have thought I was referring to all those supercriminals that we have running around. In all honesty, they're just an extension of a larger issue.
In some ways, Parodiopolis is a portal between two very distinct places. One is the world that we know--where we have everyday lives, and if you throw an apple in the air, you know for sure that it'll come back down. We're the top of the food chain; the main problem we deal with is who we let do what. If we get too angry with a politician, corporation, or even a nation, we can stop them from doing whatever it is they're doing. It obviously isn't that clear-cut or easy, but ultimately, we live in a free society. And when up against a wall, we're incredibly dangerous.
The other world is the one where the old rules don't apply. Aliens are real and, often, a threat. Magic is just as tangible as science. Science more and more resembles magic. For some, death and the law seems be obsolete. There are terrorists and serial killers and world-conquerors and supercriminals and conspiracies and invasions...
Certainly, many other cities and countries deal with these problems. But not on such a large and frequent scale, I'd wager. Is it any surprise that we want to live in the world where we're still in control? To villainize everything new and "super", since it's destroying our old way of life?
Alien, genetic, other-dimensional, and often-hidden cultures are colliding with our own. We're learning from them, and they're learning from us. Admittedly, we're often learning that they want to kill us, and in just as many cases, other cultures are learning the same thing about us.
Look at the current Lair Legion roster. Aliens, a dragon, a demi-god (!), possible mutants, a sexually-questionable man in a green-and-orange costume, maybe an urban legend whose history stretches back to midieval times, and even a few semi-normal superheroes. An Amazon from a woman-only culture is their secretary, they're friends with a sea-monkey king, an omni-mayor with a fern on his head, a sexless thought being who dresses like Zorro, and a nymphomanic single mother who's also a lawyer and superheroine. If this doesn't show you how various worlds are clashing and coming together, I don't know what will. America may be a melting pot, but Parodiopolis is a nuclear reactor in meltdown.
It shouldn't surprise us, but many of the assumptions we'd made about life, the universe, and everything were wrong. Whoops, the government really is conspiring against us. Whoops, that gun-toting lunatic vigilante may just be an angel, while the noble Ausgardian god Donar is clearly a good-guy. For those of you who are paranoid, yes, people can turn invisible, read your mind, shapeshift or make an illusion to create the appearance that you did something you really didn't.
On our own, we aren't all that safe. We have to learn to trust and depend on a small group of superhumans that we don't know much about, when we have problems learning to trust and depend on a significant other, whom we know almost everything about, and love more than anything in the world.
This all sounds very broad and impersonal, but make no mistake--the citizens of Parodiopolis deal with it every day. We wake up in the morning and work around property destruction, threats, and incredibly powerful lunatics who don't want to do anything but cause terror. You'd think that our economy would be shot to pieces. That we'd be too scared to leave our homes. But the combination of the everyman's bravery and help from those in power create an environment where chaos is a comfortable norm.
Yes, it's made us weird. As I said earlier, the city is a haven for rugged, free-thinking individualists. A city built on freedom and experimentation...humanity's desire for those things outweigh their fear. Besides, the danger comes from cultural wars. Radically different people interact here, it's natural that they'd occasionally fight. Just as we have that huge problem, we get a huge benefit in return. We regularly come into contact with strange new cultures, both human and non-human.
I'm not just talking about "super" things here...look at the various subcultures being formed in Parodiopolis, and across the river. Artists whose lives are molded by an ever-present, near-invisible force called "superhuman involvement". The wave of "New Depression" poets in GMY. An increasing number of children who have trouble differentiating between cartoons and reality, because both have robots, rayguns, and big heroes. Unique experiences create all this, and we have a lot to learn from these groups.
These days, the University of Parodiopolis is among the cutting-edge. Of, course, I'm biased--I went there. But no other college has integrated "new world" issues into their courses as much as the U of P. A lot of colleges (and a lot of people) would like to pretend that all this doesn't exist. That it's "in play", and when the dust settles, everything will be back to normal. It's a nice--if inaccurate--thought.
Some of the classes: Alien History 101. Social Factors Involved in Breeding Supercriminals. Modern-Day Warfare (focusing on SPUD and conflict with aliens). Social Super-Anxiety. New Capitalism (they mostly study Bautista Enterprises). Re-Understanding Genetics (shapeshifting and other superpowers kind of killed the previous "facts"). Comparative Cosmic Mythology (it's been proven true, but what else can they call it?).
If the tabloids are right and that mouse with the red pants really is a god, what's left for us to do? We've always been mortal...at best, we had the illusion of control. Now we don't even have that. Go ahead, throw some rocks at an invading Skrunk warship, or shoot at it with your pistol. All those things that we were fighting over, politically, suddenly seem useless and stupid. In Parodiopolis, we know that we're lucky to be alive, and lucky to be living here. Maybe that's why we're able to put aside our differences so well.
This poster posed from 63.171.208.137 when they posted