Obatello Descending

I'm dealing with some issues so I'm turning it over to Ron who has managed to combine Othello with the Orpheus myth.

Sitting around waiting for some responses on various irons in the fire, I let my imagination wander around through stuff in my mind. After it tripped over Othello and stumbled into both versions of the Orpheus myth (both classic Greek and American black), it took over my fingers and cranked out this plotsum:

Obatello Descending takes place in a corrupt city built on an ancient swamp inhabited by parasites and deadbeats. Murder, double-dealing, equivocation, and theft from the public treasury occupy most of the primary inhabitants' time and energies. Scattered around the city are luxury palaces, Dionysian retreats, and offices of scammers, flim-flammers, corrupt lawyers, lobbyists, and other of Satan's spawn.

When not actively engaged in stealing from the general public, most of the major players in the city (all of whom come from other cities and regions and pretend to be important lawmakers) improve their skills at drinking, copulating, finger-pointing, pontificating, and balderdashing. Obatello, the main character, is the half-breed offspring of a profligate African reprobate and a clueless Midwestern brain donor. He holds advanced degrees in Plagiarism, Circumlocution, and Pretension.

Obatello is married to a failed Black Panther who graduated from Victimhood University with a master's degree in Whining, a product of the Sekund-Sitty slums, whose father was an orangutan and mother was a professional welfare dependent. The other main female character is a dangerous unindicted felon with tenuous but long-standing ties to a lying, cheating, randy, pasty-faced ex-politician. She is an aging, vicious, accomplished posturer smoldering with disappointment stemming from uppity blacks, transgressed class boundaries, infrequent and unfulfilling sex, betrayal, an ugly kid, and a serious case of cankles.

For reasons unknown to virtually everyone, Obatello has ascended sans bona fides or credentials to the seat of central power in the land and surrounded himself with a group of henchmen whose experiences have focused on thuggery, deception, vacillation, fraud, and treachery. His front men are practiced carnival barkers skilled in duplicity and obfuscation who act as though they are descendants of classical Greek chorus. Obatello's appearance in the national awareness was facilitated by a misplaced religious wingnut with visions of huge reparations for all descendants of African slaves and a gossip-mongering, self-appointed moral compass for drifty housewives.

Brother Jeralmighty, a husky-voiced, anti-Caucasian, vitriol-spitting, black "conjure man" inculcated in the young Obatello a permanent mistrust for all white people, including his white mother's parents, the people who raised him and tried to give him wholesome values. Mix in the beguiling influence of the witchy woman, Whorepa, and what results is a willing, if naïve, rock-star persona based loosely on the Black Orpheus myth, with echoes of spellbinding rhetoric, teflon birds that sleep on the wind, and snakes that leave their shed skins behind as manna for groupies to feast and fantasize on. Then add to all that a Marxist agenda and a bottomless pit of money to fund it from a billionaire whose goal is total eradication of justice, liberty, and freedom for the average citizen.

That said, one would anticipate a three-act 3-hour play complete with intrigue, hypocrisy, suspicion, murder, sex, gunplay, arson, drug addiction, and mounting economic disaster. However, as soon as the audience receives, in classic Tennessee-Williams fashion, the full introduction of characters and background, Obatello strides onto the stage amidst his full complement of flunkies and yes-men, stands between matching teleprompters, and announces his plans for improving the lives of everyone in the entire country through pure fucking magic.

At that moment, he is struck by the second stage booster of a Chinese rocket launching a death-ray satellite and transformed into a gray spot of grease on the basement floor of the theater. The standing ovation lasts for nearly an hour, and all in attendance agree that Obatello Descending is the most uplifting, inspiring, and satisfying comedy of the century.

I give it 5 stars and a resounding "Allllll-Righty, Then!"

I hope Ron doesn't ever start his own blog.