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October 13, 2006
Alaskan in Exile
by Neil Zawicki

[Editor's note: This week, Neil Zawicki delights us with his continuing saga of Luke Pastoriak, a wandering immigrant in the world of TV. To get caught up to speed on parts 1-6 of the story, click here and follow the links.]

The Television of the United States, Part Seven

    A blast of bright white light filled Luke’s eyes, and he cast a long shadow on the stage. He’d made the final round, and he liked it. He was ready now to take the prize, to become president of the Television of the United States.

    The audience fell to a hush, and a fountain of sparks exploded to his left and right. It startled him, and when he jumped, the motorcycle helmet fell in front of his eyes. When he pulled it back into place, he saw the host of the show: a little man in a red suit. Up close, his face was beaded with sweat, and sloppy eyeliner ringed each eye. The lights made a halo around his head, and Luke thought of a solar eclipse.

    “You’re a natural, kid,” the host whispered, and then he turned to the audience.

    “Can this man be your president?!” he shouted.

    The audience sent out a collective “whoooo!”

    Luke began to laugh.

    “Are you ready to rumble?!”

    The audience continued the noise, only louder now.

    “Or will this man continue to be your president?!”

    The host motioned to the edge of the stage, where a blond guy in a black suit emerged. He held one red rose in his left hand, and he calmly walked to Luke’s side.

    The audience cheered:

    “Bradlee! Bradlee!”

    Luke glanced at his opponent, incumbent President of the Television of the United States Bradlee Ramsteiner. He was smooth, and Luke took notice.

    Bradlee tossed the rose to the audience and began to speak.

    “Hello viewer citizens.”

    The audience wooed once more.

    “I am still your leader, and I will be your leader at the end of this day. My opponent is good, and he’s funny, too.”

    Luke didn’t like that. He didn’t want to be funny.

    “Evil Pastoriak,” continued Bradlee. “A clever homage to the enemy of the Television of the United States, the man that divided our great broadcast zone. Some say Evil is a descendent of Clement Hondo Pastoriak. Some say he’s an impostor. I say we can’t take a chance. How do we know he’s not an agent from the White Dot Collective, sent here to undermine our way of life?”

    The audience began to murmur, and Luke took a deep breath. Bradlee looked at him, saying, “How do we know, Evil Pastoriak? How do we know you’re not here to destroy us?”

    Luke looked into Bradlee’s determined eyes. He had not come this far to be called an enemy of the Television of the United States. He had not come this far to lose, and now every nerve in his body wanted to win. He had become intoxicated with the idea. The thought snapped in his brain like a twig, and then he spoke.

    “Are you afraid of the White Dot Collective, sir?” he asked Bradlee, and his voice echoed from the dark silent audience, and now he was standing by, watching himself say these words. “Because I am not. I am not afraid of the White Dot Collective. I am not afraid of my father!”

    The audience gasped, and Bradlee blinked. Now Luke was locked into a trip he could not control, and he watched himself continue.

    “I will be president of the Television of the United States, and as your president I will…”

    It was like a teakettle coming to a boil.

    “I will invade and destroy our enemy! I will declare war on the White Dot Collective! I will destroy them!”

    The audience went completely mad, shrieking and leaping from their seats. The din of their cheers made the air rattle, and Luke began to scream, “I will invade their land and I will destroy my treasonous father!”

   


























      Neil Zawicki, exiled Alaskan, is Editor at Large for Insurgent49, a former reporter for the Alaska Star, and winner of the Alaska Press Club's 'Best Columnist' award. He is now living out the rest of his days in an undisclosed location in Oregon. He can be contacted athondo23@gmail.com

- Columnists -

Editor's Desk
by Aaron Selbig

Rank and File
by Nova Stubbs

Red Alert
by Soren Wuerth



Alaskan In Exile
by Neil Zawicki

The
Bramble Bush
by Kevin Morford







- column archive -

October 6, 2006

September 29, 2006

September 22, 2006

September 15, 2006

September 8, 2006

September 1, 2006

August 25, 2006

August 18, 2006

August 11, 2006

August 4, 2006

July 28, 2006

July 21, 2006

July 14, 2006

June 30, 2006

June 23, 2006

June 16, 2006

June 9, 2006

June 2, 2006

May 26, 2006

May 12, 2006

May 5, 2006

April 28, 2006

April 21, 2006

April 14, 2006

April 7, 2006

March 31, 2006

March 24, 2006

March 17, 2005

March 3, 2006

February 24, 2006

February 17, 2006

February 10, 2006

February 3, 2006

January 27, 2006

January 20, 2006

January 13, 2006

January 6, 2006

December 30, 2005

December 23, 2005

December 16, 2005

December 10, 2005

December 2, 2005

November 25, 2005

November 18, 2005

November 11, 2005

November 4, 2005

October 28, 2005

October 21, 2005

October 14, 2005

October 7, 2005

September 30, 2005

September 23, 2005

September 16, 2005

September 9, 2005

September 2, 2005

August 26, 2005

August 19, 2005

August 12, 2005

August 5, 2005

July 29, 2005

July 22, 2005

July 15, 2005

July 8, 2005

July 1, 2005

June 24, 2005

June 17, 2005

June 10, 2005

June 3, 2005

May 27, 2005

May 20, 2005

May 13, 2005

May 6, 2005

April 29, 2005

April 21, 2005

April 14, 2005

April 7, 2005

April 1, 2005



- also by this writer -



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in-sur-gent (in sur'jent), n. 1. a member of a group which revolts against the policies of its leadership.