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News Radio Redux

 

News Radio Redux
by Michael Scott

The cast of the moderately successful, late nineties situation comedy News Radio, whose careers have been largely stagnant since the shows cancellation in `99, will be enjoying a return to the small screen next season, but it’s not what you might expect.  Struggling actors Kandi Alexander, Stephen Root, Andy Dick and Dave Foley each applied separately, and were hired “on individual merit,” according to anonymous source Raymond Brooklyn, for coveted positions behind the Al Jazeera English news desk.

“Andy seriously had no idea that the others were applying,” says Brooklyn who, as the fifty-three year old proprietor of Beach Dry-cleaning in Manhattan, is bound by professional ethics to keep the confidence of his clientele.  “I don’t think Stephen, or what’s the name, the sexy one, the Canadian? [Dave Foley]  knew anything either.  And I’m sure my buddy Keven. . . you know the guy?  Works over on fifty-second, at the Falafel stand near Discount-Bargons Optical?  He runs the network [Al Jazeera] and I’m sure he’s never heard of any of those guys.”

When I caught up with Kal’raviCH Devv’n (aka, Brooklyn’s buddy Keven) he refused to go on record, but told me in confidence that he found the whole thing very embarrassing.  “It was just supposed to be a publicity stunt,” Devv’n told me, placing his hand over my microphone to muffle the sound.  “Some of the guys we’d been using had moved on, and so we needed a fresh news team.  One of my producers suggested hiring an American celebrity to fill a nonsense role, like sports reporting, in order to improve our profile in the US markets.  We’ve been struggling with cable providers for nearly a decade now.  We can’t get anyone to carry us here [in the United States].  It has been a very serious battle.  I don’t know how we ended up hiring [the entire cast of one show] like that though.  I don’t work on that level, I’ve got the Falafel stand here and everything, which is a more profitable venture right now.  Probably someone just misfiled the paperwork.”

“Well, then they had better unfile it,” said milfy bomb-shell Kandi Alexander a week later, when I showed her the rough draft of my article.  “Weather girl?  Come on!  [I've been] Locked into a four year contract doing travelers forecasts, and that little piss-ant Root’s got a lead anchor slot?  Have you seen him on camera?  He’s like a potato with glasses.  Stephen Root, a three o’clock anchor. . . just unbelievable. . . I can already tell, this is going to be CSI all over again.”

Alexander politely declined when I asked her to lunch, citing my age, poverty, and general disrespect for personal hygiene.  I assured her that there was no need to get personal, and that the lunch request had been strictly a professional courtesy.  I don’t think she entirely believed me, and at this point the interview collapsed into a series of uncomfortable digressions.  After some cajoling, she agreed to give me the land line number for Vicki Lewis’ summer home, but when I called I was connected to a shoe shop in Canada.  I don’t know what happened, maybe I misdialed.  I’d had a long day.  I want to try calling back, but I don’t know.  It’s sort of a weird situation.  What do I say?  “Your friend gave me your number?”  What if they aren’t even really that close, you know?  I mean, they used to work together, but that was ten years ago.  I don’t want to get Kandi in trouble, or come off like a weirdo, or anything. 

Sources indicate that Andy Dick will be filling an unspecified field role, while Dave Foley will cover the sports desk.  

Maura Tierney was not available for comment, but her estranged and verbally abusive step mother says Tierney is hoping to join the rest of cast of Rescue Me, who are already working at Fox News. 

by Michael Scott
http://woodenrocketpress.com

The Canadian Election and Principles of Democracy and Voting: A Wikipedia Primer

Election: “An election is a formal decision-making process by which a population chooses an individual to hold public office.”
eg. On May 2nd, Canada is having a federal election.

Politics: “of, or relating to, the city,” modeled on Aristotle’s “affairs of the city,” his book on governments and governing.
eg. The election is to decide the future of Canada’s political affairs, and who will hold the office of Prime Minister.

Minority Government: “Is a cabinet of a parliamentary system formed when a political party or coalition of parties does not have a majority of overall seats in the parliament but is sworn into government to break a Hung Parliament election result.”
eg. The election is being called because our current Prime Minister wishes to break his minority government so he can better control the agenda of parliament.

Vote: “a method for a group to make a decision or express an opinion. It is often found in democracies and republics.”
eg. An election is acted out through the process of voting. Citizens wishing to cast their opinion for the candidate they believe should head the country vote on election day. It follows that the candidate with the most votes wins the election.

Democracy: “a form of government in which all citizens have equal say in the decisions that affect their lives.”
eg. A vote is held to establish governments in a democracy.

Strategic Voting: “in elections with more than two viable candidates, when a voter supports a candidate other than his or her sincere preference in order to prevent an undesirable outcome.”
eg. In Canada, there is much talk of strategic voting to dethrone the current prime minister. Electing a candidate with a close chance of beating him is considered a vote against him, despite that, by its nature, a strategic vote is one that goes against the principles of democracy. Otherwise, it is just “a vote.”

Chance: “a complex of causes that produces an indeterministic process with indeterministic effects, therefore not-necessary, not-deterministic.”
eg. There is an element of chance in every election. The chance that, given your vote is counted and weighed against all other votes in equal measure, your candidate will be elected, is not a simple function of the number of candidates divided by the number of people voting. Given the myriad of personal reasons, backgrounds, histories and ideals of the people of this country, the ability to determine how an election will swing is so ungraspable it might as well be a hair adrift on an ocean. The number of infinite routes to get to an outcome of a handful of candidates make the chance of calculating and, thus hoping to influence an election with said calculation, impossible. The statement that follows from applying strategic voting to a democracy is that if you follow one candidate’s chance of winning, there’s a chance your vote will mean more.

Belief: the psychological state in which an individual holds a proposition or premise to be true.
eg. If you believe in democracy, strategic voting is contrapuntal to that belief. If you believe that an individual has a say in the outcomes of of the affairs of a government, and that an individual’s desires to see one thing happen over another can be heard, you should not have to rely on the chance that comes with strategic voting. All that is doing is encouraging citizens to speak about what they don’t want, giving no voice to what they do want. You encourage no citizens’ belief in democracy, you bet on a chance of democracy, which, as believers of democracy, is contrapuntal to your belief. Whether or not your vote is counted, or meaningful, or the right vote is irrelevant. Democracy has never been about winning. Democracy is about voting. Voting is expressing a belief in democracy and if voting is important to you, if democracy is important to you, vote for. Do not vote against. If democracy is unimportant to you, or if you do not believe the system can represent your voice, do not vote. I do not judge. Every election is not a chance to chastise those that do not vote, harping “civic duty” from the rooftops. An election is a chance to take part in your own beliefs, to vote for what you believe in.

Faith: “the confident belief or trust in the truth or trustworthiness of a person, concept or thing, not resting on logical proof or material evidence.”
eg. You cannot put faith in chance, because it does not rely on truth or trustworthiness. It is a collection of random occurences. If you believe democracy to be the same thing, don’t vote; in the scheme of belief and faith and politics, its the same thing as strategic voting.

THE SUNDAY PAPER: “Once Upon A Wish,” by Ken Stamp. Part 4 of 4.

read part one of this story here.

We both get to our feet and I lead you to a large open room. Overhead, a skylight allows the moon to supply the only light. I press a button on a remote control I had removed from my pocket and the room is filled with the soft strains of a Strauss waltz.

I take you into my arms and we dance. You lay your head on my chest and close your eyes. We sway to the waltz of love, in a moonlit room with a canopy of stars visible through the skylight. We increase the tempo of our dancing until we are in full stride, following the flow of the music with the grace and elegance of a summer’s breeze.

We dance past a mirror mounted on the wall. You catch a fleeting glimpse of another couple, also dancing. You thought we were alone. Startled, you try to get a better look but we are turning and you lose sight of the mirror. Who were those people, you wonder?

You are sure the man was dressed in a black tuxedo and the woman in a ballroom gown. Turning your head rapidly, you try to locate the mirror but cannot. Confusion crosses you face.

You step back until I am holding you at arms length. I am the man in the black tuxedo, red cummerbund, starched white shirt and black bow-tie. We stand in front of the mirror, and you see yourself dressed in the most beautiful full-length silk gown. All the fairy godmothers that ever existed could not have created a more stunning creation, regardless of all the magic they had to work with.

Around you neck hangs a sapphire necklace; its blueness matches the hue of your eyes. You are radiant, you are breathtaking, you are maiden personified. I pray that this night will never end because I want to hold this vision forever.

I guide you back into my arms and continue the dance, our eyes locked, too enraptured to speak. We dance with complete abandon, spinning and twirling faster and faster, never breaking eye contact while searching for the fulfillment of the desires that are in our hearts, pulsating through our bodies.

We are as close as we can get and still look into each other’s eyes. On and on we twirl until it seems we are standing still and the room is revolving around us. The room spins faster and faster as we try to continue the dance. Everything starts to blur and we can only see, in each other’s eyes, the shrinking circles that suddenly burst into multi-colours bliss before collapsing into darkness.

It Is Over 

When everything settles down, you realize we outside the coffee shop. You squeeze your eyes shut as hard as you can, trying to dispel the confusion. Nothing seems to work until you hear me say, “turn so you are sitting with your back to me.”  I pause for a few seconds then add, “it is finished.”

You open your eyes and there is a blank expression on your face. Your mind is flooded with the events that seemed so real. Your hand goes to your neck searching for some trace of the sapphire necklace. You look at the calendar on your watch, it’s still Friday. You realize that it was only a fantasy.

“But it was so real!” you cry out in frustration, “the way I wanted it to be. Why can’t people understand that I truly love you even if you are older than my father.”

I try to comfort you, “Maybe someday there will be a time and place for us. But for now this special gift we shared will have to be enough.”

“Why does it have to be this way? Why couldn’t the fantasy be the life we live?”

“We can not live in dream world, there is no substance. We must face reality, even when it means we can never be together as we desire.” was all I could answer.

“How can we do that, I mean, to never see you again?” There is a tremor in your voice.

“I don’t know. Maybe, if we avoid seeing each other.” I suggest

“Will we be strong enough to carry the burden of separation?” you enquire, “and what about accidental meetings? How can I avoid you when you come to the office where I work?”

“I don’t want to think about that. Somehow we’ll just have to cope,” was the only answer I could give. “I know it will be difficult, but we must try.”

You turn to face me. I can tell that you are going to reach out to embrace me, so I put my hand up to stop you.

“We have to start now,” I say. “If I hold you once more I will never let you go.”

My voice has risen slightly.

“I’m sorry, my darling,” lowering my voice almost to a whisper, “I’m trying not to get angry but I dread all the lonely days ahead of me.”

“Me too, but I understand that this is the way it has to be.” There are tears in your eyes and sorrow in your voice as you move to the passenger door.

Your parting comment will always haunt me. “Until forever,” you said.

You walk a few paces then turn toward me one last time. You kiss the palm of your hand and blow it toward me. I cannot see you clearly. The tears in my eyes have blurred my vision. You turn and fade into the night, and I am alone. 

The End.

 

Wooden Rocket Press’ Sunday Paper posts new serialized fiction each Sunday.
Swing by next week, for the first chapter of a brand new story.

To submit your story for consideration for the Sunday Paper, e-mail us at submissions@woodenrocketpress.com