Yesterday we announced our multi-part world-exclusive inside look at “Stalin’s Sexy Man-Apes” — the quartet of part man, part ape creatures that everyone’s been talking about. CIA officials advised me to start by sitting down with Sergei — the oldest and most even-tempered of the four man-apes. With his extensive debriefing complete, Sergei recently relocated to downtown Denver, where he set up house in a stylish duplex with his handler, Nikolai Novikov. I met with Sergei and Nikolai last Monday, over a brunch of waffles, berries, and some kind of small, hard nut.
Sergei: The Oldest and Most Even-Tempered Man-Ape
CV: Sergei — thanks so much for taking the time to talk with me.
Sergei: Is great pleasure, Cecil.
CV: You know, this is CecilVortex.com’s first ever world-exclusive.
Sergei: Da.
CV: I’m very excited about it.
Sergei: Da. Da.
Nikolai: Cecil, are you OK?
CV: Oh yeah — I’m fine. Just excited.
Nikolai: You are sweating so much — like Albert Brooks in that movie.
Sergei: Broadcast News.
CV: I’m OK. It’s just a little warm in here. If we could open a window?
Sergei: Here you go.
CV: Thanks Sergei. So, can I ask — how do you feel about the label you and your fellow man-apes were given — “Stalin’s Sexy Man Apes”? Is it hard to live up to that billing?
Sergei: No, is easy. I am sexy all the time.
CV: You know, when I told people I was doing this interview, they all wanted me to ask the same question — whether the ape part of you is a “lesser ape,” from the Hylobatidae family, or a “greater ape” from the Hominidae family.
Nikolai: Cecil, I’m not sure if —
Sergei: [unintelligible grunting noise]
CV: Well, it’s just that, from what I understand, the “lesser apes” —
Sergei: [louder unintelligible grunting noise]
Nikolai: You really should change the subject.
CV: OK. Um…
Nikolai: Ask him about TV. He loves to watch TV.
CV: Sergei, have you been watching much TV?
Sergei: [quieter unintelligible grunting noise] Da.
Cecil: Anything in particular?
Sergei: Well, Sergei love “Project Runway.” The sexy fashion.
Cecil: Oh yeah, me too.
Sergei: Sergei like to see them make dresses out of garbage!
CV: Do you have a favorite contestant?
Nikolai: I like Uli.
Sergei: Sergei just happy Vincent gone. Vincent make Sergei uncomfortable.
CV: Well, I think it just goes to show you.
Nikolai: What?
CV: Whether you’re a man-ape from the former Soviet Union, or a homo sapien from the USA, pretty much everybody thinks Vincent is creepy.
Sergei: Da.
Nikolai: Da.
Cecil: Thanks very much for your time, both of you.
Sergei: Do svidaniya, Cecil.
Cecil: Do svidaniya.
Tuesday: Ivan!
xx-temp-files
Stalin’s Sexy Man-Apes
In the mid-1920s a team of Soviet scientists led by a soft-spoken man named Ilya Ivanov began work on a secret project aimed at developing an army of ape-human hybrids. Picture a squad of these creatures attacking Berlin. Joseph Stalin did. “I want a new invincible human being,” Stalin was reported to have instructed the young Ivanov. “Insensitive to pain. Resistant and indifferent about the quality of food they eat. Hairy, with sort of a monkey-type look.”
Under rising budget pressures, the Reds finally abandoned their efforts in the 1980s. But not before producing a tribe of eleven so-called “man-apes,” kept under close guard in a secure prison at the base of the Ural Mountains.
Last December the story made international headlines when of these four man-apes stunned the world — executing a daring escape and destroying their guards, the labs, and the rest of the man-ape tribe in the process! The cunning quartet made their way across the Urals to Western Europe where they requested and received political asylum from the U.S. embassy in Frankfurt.
Little else was known regarding the details of their escape, although one tantalizing rumor did surface — that these were four unusually attractive man-apes, and that they’d used their good looks to somehow distract their captors. Predictably, the British tabloids leapt on this choice tidbit, dubbing them “Stalin’s Sexy Man Apes.” And the label stuck.
Until today, that was all we knew. “Stalin’s Sexy and Enigmatic Man-Apes,” you might say. But that changes this week, as cecilvortex.com proudly unveils an exclusive intimate peek inside the hearts and minds of Sergei, Ivan, Dmitri, and “little Ivan.”
You can call them man-apes. You can call them sexy. We call them fascinating.
Tomorrow: Sergei!
Are You Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
Over the last year or two, a loose cabal of aliased co-conspirators has been using this site to tackle challenging books en masse — everything from the dread pirate Gravity’s Rainbow to the surprisingly Spanish Don Quixote. We call these experiences “Deathmarches,” despite the increasingly rabid protestation of my erstwhile nemesis, Itto Ottagami.
The fifth in this series — “The To the Lighthouse Deathmarch” — is comin’ ’round the bend, and I thought I’d take this moment to extend an open invitation.
How It Works
As you may have guessed, this time out we’re reading Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse. (More specifically, I’ll be reading the HBJ hardcover edition, available on Amazon.)
We do this in small bites — 40-60 pages a week. Every Wednesday starting 10/18, I’ll post an entry up here on ye olde cecilvortex.com letting folks know how far we’re aiming to read that week. In the days that follow, folks comment on the thread. These comments range from “I like donuts” to “[insert sophisticated literary analysis here].” And are all comments are viewed as equal in the eyes of el cabal.
Up to 30 Deathmarchers who make it to the end of the book and post a comment every week get prizes — in this case, prizes that tap the awesome power of magnetic energy. I can’t tell you more than that because it’s a really big surprise. OK. I give. They’re magnets.
So, all that said, if reading a book by Virginia Woolf and quite possibly gaining partial control over one of the most powerful forces in nature has any appeal to you, you’ve almost certainly come to the right place. Any questions, just drop me a line at deathmarch@cecilvortex.com.
Hope to see you out on the trail,
-Cecil
A whole new TV genre (don’t you dare close your eyes)
As some of you already know, I’m taking a hiatus from the 9-5 life so I can spend more time walking my kids to school and working on my writing. Whenever this has come up in conversation, the question back has been: “Hunh. OK. So what are you going to write?” And it’s been a real point of shame for me that I haven’t had much of an answer. Until now. Now, I have very much of an answer. And the answer is that I intend to use this time to create an entirely new TV genre, one I’ve dubbed: the “situation tragedy” or “trag-e-sit.” I’m still working out the details, but here’s a rough sketch….
Trag-e-sits offer a half hour of episodic entertainment starring 4-6 whacky neighbors and/or family members and/or co-workers who move the plot forward through a series of short, tragic, situational interactions. The whole thing is punctuated by a “cry track” — the sound of a studio audience weeping, designed to induce a similar reaction in the home viewer. Some of the literally several trag-e-sit treatments I’m currently developing include:
- A family-oriented trag-e-sit in which two single parents, with six kids between them, move in together. They know that they must somehow form a family. But instead, bit by bit they break each others’ hearts.
- A workplace trag-e-sit where a new TV program director joins a second-tier station and proceeds to turn everyone on the staff against their feeble-minded but well-meaning anchorman.
- A Boulder-based trag-e-sit, in which an alien (I call him “Gork”) comes down from the planet “Bork” and ruins the life a young woman named “Cindy.” He completely misunderstands the way humans are supposed to behave and the consequences are, well, awful.
Wish me luck!
update: so-called “t. philter” writes: “I wish you’d been more specific about the awful consequences of Gork’s confusion.” Well, I don’t want to give away the store, but I will tell you that he puts his fingers in other people’s sodas. Also, he keeps trying to hump grandma.
Conservative Pundit Smoothie
I have no idea what this means, but it turns out that if you take 1 part conservative pundit Charles Krauthammer, and blend it with 3 parts conservative pundit Ann Coulter, the result looks suspiciously like Fabio’s hard-living older brother.
conservative pundit Charles Krauthammer
conservative pundit Ann Coulter
conservative super-model/pundit Fabio Krautcoulter?
Can’t-lose multimillion-dollar money-making scheme
“The Swedish Chef Sings Dave Matthews’ Greatest Hits.”
Matthews
Chef
There’d be so much money rolling in, I don’t know. It would freak me out.
Jeff
Jeff Goldblum
This one, the fourth in a series of desktop-sized painterly images of individuals engaged with a glowing orb, set against a blue/textured frame, goes out to Kim and Zoro, whose comments today made me pause to reconsider the only-partly-realized genius and, yes, the big bag of pathos that is Jeff Goldblum.
Danny, Kurt, Al
Remember that scene in Close Encounters where Richard Dreyfus was compelled to make a mountain out of mashed potatoes? Something very similar happened to me not too long ago. Except instead of a potato mountain, I found myself forced to make a trifecta of images, each sized for a 1024 x 768 PC/Mac desktop. They featured Danny Kaye, Kurt Vonnegut, and Al Gore engaged with a glowing orb. And they were set in a bluish textured frame.
The experience left me shaken. I had so many questions. For example: Why is Danny Kaye wearing that outfit?
At first no answers came. And then I heard a voice as cool and reassuring as a Dairy Queen Flurry. It said:
“Now more than ever, Americans needs heroes. And if they can’t have heroes, they should at least have Danny Kaye, Kurt Vonnegut, and Al Gore desktop images set in a bluish textured frame and featuring a glowing orb. Post these images on cecilvortex.com. Tell people they can click to see the full-sized image, or right-click to save an image out and use them as desktops. Then wait for our next transmission.”
And so I did….
Danny Kaye
Kurt Vonnegut
Al Gore
Starfish Sucking on My Nose: The Musical
A few days ago, So-Called Bill posted a comment saying “I’ll pay you five dollars to write a song called ‘Starfish Sucking on My Nose.'”
Well. Never let it be said that I won’t write a song called “Starfish Sucking on My Nose” for five dollars.
-Cecil
time: 24 seconds; specs: 378K
Press Play” to play.
Photo Day
It’s been a while since the last track on ye olde Virtual LP. Much as Monkey Vortex Radio Theater is starting to crackle back to life, and a new Deathmarch is nearly upon us, I’m starting to find a little time here and there to mess around with music once agin’.
So here’s a micro-tune, written and recorded today for the littlest Vortices. It was Photo Day at school. A magical day, I think we can all agree. And one well worth celebrating.
Thanks for listening, -CV
time: 29 seconds; specs: 470K
Press Play to play.