1,408 words

Rainbow Albrecht
Space Vixen Trek Episode XIII: The Final Falafel
Smashwords, 2015

“Must you overly-nostalgic Judeans revive every old custom around here?”

Tired and depressed by what’s happening — again — in the Middle East? Wish someone would Make the Holy Land Fun Again?[1] Counter-Currents’ own Beau Albrecht has what you need! Are you going to take it? Are you man enough to take it?[2]

Whoa, this is starting to go in strange directions, right from the start. Bad craziness; perhaps influenced by the author under review?^[3] Let’s start again, from a different angle.

Who doesn’t love Christmas? Well, I can take it or leave it, really, but Constant Readers know I do love the novella form — what Henry James called “the dear, the blessed nouvelle” — and it does have more than a little connection to the season, with such exemplars as The Turn of the Screw and A Study in Scarlet appearing at Christmastide, and yes, even A Christmas Carol itself.[4]

So I was delighted to uncover a novella-length work by Beau Albrecht: an installment in his Space Vixen Trek series, another entry in which — Episode 17: Tomorrow the Stars — I had enjoyed immensely.[5]

We start in media America res, with our, um, heroes, Karl and Jethro. To call them Beavis and Butthead is a bit unfair, since Karl is a “nerd” and Jethro a “jock,” but they share their cartoon doppelgangers’ cognitive limitations, boundless self-confidence, and slacker lifestyle, making them the perfect tools to explore alien cultures. These two American Idiots are on summer vacation, stuck at their respective homes with only — quelle horreur! — basic cable (a recurring motif). There’s not even any feminine companionship; Karl is an incel, natch, and while Jethro is quite the ladies’ man, his current gal pal is off exploring her lesbianic options.

Then relief comes a-knockin’ in the form of a pair of Mormon missionaries. By the time our heroes later meet up on the beach, the missionaries have been debauched, but Karl has discovered his Jewish roots and Jethro has heard the call of the Prophet. Naturally, they head off to The Holy Land as a summer vacation diversion; funding is made available when Karl runs into Bubbles Greenberg — Beat poet, founder of the Hippies, and “one of the great literary figures” of Karl’s “new-found people” — and, um, comes to an understanding with him in his hotel room. (The randy but generous Bubbles will reappear at convenient times).

Along the way they’ll struggle to conform to the stringent requirements of their new belief systems (Karl notes that lying is okay with YHVH, while Jethro observes the ban on “strong drink” by regarding beer as “liquid bread”), and meet the likes of: a classmate, a “dweeb” named Ludwig, who has succumbed to “Jerusalem Syndrome”[6] and believes himself to be the new Messiah, Loki; aging, Kabalistic-bottled-water-swilling popstar Ms. Diva; a Jewish genie who, when Jethro wishes for a million dollars, delivers not cash but boilerplate investment advice; a very helpful talking lizard, and more. Oh, and although there’s no spice worms, there are giant caterpillars:

The nerd entered the lobby and spoke with the frazzled clerk. “Shalom! One of my classmates is already staying here, and he highly recommends this fine hotel. So my friend and I would like to get a room here for two weeks.”

“All right. Let me see papers and will do check-in.” When he looked at the document, he laughed. “Your name is Ben-Gai?”

“Well, you see, there was a mixup with the entry visa.”

“Your companions, they are K-Y Jelly and Preparation H, right?”

“Come to think of it, that’s not far from the truth.”

“There was another youth with bollocksed up entry visa too. Real weird bloke, that.”

“Fat kid with the Bible study group, alias Ben M. Pislik? Dresses like Indiana Jones?”

“Yeah, that one. He is Preparation H., right?” Karl nodded in reply. The clerk said, “Show me American passport. I do not want see Israel papers.”

“Here you go.” He handed over his passport.

“I can take cash now, or credit card.”

“Uh . . .” A nervous, cold sweat came upon Karl.

“We take American dollars, is good, we get many tourists. Bill is five thousand dollars.”

“Well, that’s a bit steep, I’m afraid. I was figuring more on one thousand.”

“Five thousand!”

“One thousand!”

“Six thousand!”

“I do believe we’re at an impasse.”

“What is matter? You people are rich. You own TV networks, radio stations, publishing houses, magazines, newspapers, Hollywood, Wall Street, banking system, Congress of USA, and Hebrew National hot dog company. You even took the country that once was ours.” The clerk gave him an icy stare.

“Well, there was a little problem. You see, when they mailed me my Jew card, they forgot to throw in my free hedge fund portfolio. I’ll have to call customer service and see what’s up with that one.”

“Your silver spoon turn rusty? Is too bad!” The clerk put on a sad face and pretended to wipe tears from his eyes.

Eventually they discover that the Middle East truly is, as the late Alistair Clarke observed, “the pit of Lovecraftian evil,” but instead of Cthulhu presiding, it’s . . . bearded interplanetary clams? Don’t worry, all will be revealed, and our Judeo-Christian-Muslim heritage will finally make sense — or as much sense as it ever could.

But plot is not the point here, it’s the author’s ability to find the most absurd angle on just about anything, and following it right into the ground, fearless of consideration of taste, shame, or the need to be “politically correct” — or, as we’d say today, “woke”: All is grist for your amusement.

At less than 100 pages, it’s an excellent amuse bouche after Episode XVII; buy them both! Or, considering the season, why not use it as a most welcome stocking stuffer? (I’m sure our esteemed editor will make an exception this time). And of course, there’s a sequel of sorts: Medieval Vixen Quest Episode 0: The Search For Shlock, where our mentally- and culturally-challenged “heroes” get themselves in even more trouble; in fact, there’s a whole Albrecht world out there for you to explore, and it’s a much better world for you to spend your time in than Hogwarts, District 13, or perhaps even the Shire (though Tom Bombadil would fit right in). So settle back in your IKEA lounger, fire up some pipe-weed, pour a single malt, or whatever your favorite intoxicant might be, and enjoy a few hours of brain-free fun!

Note

[1] MHLFA doesn’t really work, does it? Sounds too much like MILF. Perhaps the author’s “Put the Fun Back in Fundamentalism” — a group funding Christian tours of the Holy Land — is on the right track.

[2] Apologies to David Mamet — one of the “good” ones — and fans of Glengarry Glen Ross.

[3] “Rainbow’s parents met during the Summer of Love. He was conceived and born in the back of a VW Bus. When he was one, they attended Woodstock (Rainbow was particularly impressed by Grace Slick’s awesome voice) . . . Today, he fixes servers for a living but would prefer to be a supervillain plotting world domination on a remote volcanic island. Becoming a dictator is a tough career change to pull off, so he channels his evil genius into creative writing. Mostly it is science fiction and fantasy parodies, and he aims for the golden mean of cheesiness which makes a story so bad that it’s good.”

[4] Though other, non-holly/jolly examples — The Metamorphosis, Heart of Darkness, or The Shadow Over Innsmouth — suggest that the connection may only be in the minds of British magazine publishers.

[5] See my review, here. Incidentally, the numbering of the episode titles seems to vary from Roman to Arabic, and apparently, despite the numbering, each can be read in any order. Don’t be uptight, man, just roll with it!

[6] Wikipedia says that “[t]he best known, although not the most prevalent, manifestation of Jerusalem syndrome is the phenomenon whereby a person who seems previously balanced and devoid of any signs of psychopathology becomes psychotic after arriving in Jerusalem.” Admittedly, it is not recognized by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders or the International Classification of Diseases, is based on a couple dicey studies by Israeli psychiatrists, and seems mostly to exist as a trope for TV shows such as The X-Files or The Simpsons. Ludwig, however, is able to fall off a hotel balcony into a swimming pool and walk away, which is pretty impressive for a false messiah.