April 21, 2017: In Honor of Earth Day, A Serious Dialogue Between Sarah Palin and Donald Trump

"The Earth is now fucked, that's for certain."
"It's ourselves we really are hurtin'."
"Let's just ignore
it and argue more
'bout which of has the oranger tan."

Note on pronunciation: you have to put a lot of emphasis on the last syllable of "oranger" and almost elide the middle syllable to get this one to sound right.

A note on who's talking: it doesn't matter which one of them says which lines.

Author's note: even I'm getting tired of the spraytan jokes. On the other hand, Trump can go suck a colostomy bag like it's one of those fucking applesauce pouches my children are so crazy about.


If you want to know what's wrong with American society, consider the following incident. Seven or eight years ago I heard a crash and a man crying "My leg! My leg." I looked out the window of my second-floor apartment and saw that a man had been hit by a car. I ran downstairs, while my wife called the police. The driver and a hipster whose hacky sack game had been interrupted were, when I arrived, trying to convince the man, whose leg had been knocked off in the collision, not to call the police. The leg was fake. (I fictionalized this incident, taking what details would work for me and inventing new ones, in a short story called "One Man's Trailer Trash," which you can read if you want to take your mind off what's wrong with American society, but it won't work, it will just make you feel worse.) The man had been riding his bicycle on the sidewalk, and the car had come out of the alley without honking. The driver said to the cyclist, who was trying to strap his leg back on, that riding on the sidewalk was illegal and the police would probably give him a ticket. I said, "You hit him with your fucking car." The hipster said, "OK, no one needs to be an asshole." I said, "Fuck off," which he did, back to his hacky sack game.

Is the problem that we don't have enough people who are willing to stand up for legless cyclists? Is the problem hipster diplomacy? Is it that people pull out of alleys without honking? The problem is that if you're poor, you're not shit. If you have one leg and you ride a bike because you don't have enough money for a car and you look a little homeless, you're not shit, and when you get hit by a careless driver it's going to be your fault. The problem is that even with me on his side the cyclist was convinced the police would give him a ticket, so he put his leg back on and rode away, and the driver got back in his car and drove away, not too far, though, because remember my wife had called the police and describe the car. It's not like he went to jail or anything; one of the only hit-and-run incidents in which the police actually catch the driver and the victim is gone. I probably should have ran up to the car and told the officer everything I saw, although I didn't actually see the collision, instead of laughing.

That's the problem, and I don't know how to solve it other than by saying "Fuck off" to most of the people I meet, which I know doesn't help.

A Defense of Steven Mnuchin

As an American it is my right to believe whatever I want to believe irregardless of such meaningless concepts as reality or dictionary. I believe it's Friday, even if "science" tells me it's Tuesday, so here's a Friday Limerick about Steven Mnuchin. Steve Mnuchin, at least he's not insane!

Our treasury sec Steve Mnuchin
some say is the biggest mdouche in
the country today.
At least he can say
he ain't in cahoots with no Roosian!

April Giveaway/Short Story Announcement

Thank you, all four hundred sixty-two of you, to everyone who entered the Goodreads book giveaway for Barn Again in March. If you didn't win, which you probably didn't, don't despair: you have options:

  1. Enter the April giveaway: https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/228517-barn-again-a-memoir.
  2. Read the whole book for free on a website called Wattpad (not recommended; no offense to Wattpad; it's just a long book to read online): https://www.wattpad.com/story/87677264-barn-again-a-memoir.
  3. Pay $0.99 for the ebook on Amazon (not recommended; much offense to Amazon, and I hate ebooks): https://www.amazon.com/Barn-Again-Memoir-Alan-Good-ebook/dp/B01N8U5W5P/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1491060610&sr=8-2&keywords=barn+again+a+memoir.
  4. Go on Amazon and pay $13 for the print version: https://www.amazon.com/Barn-Again-Memoir-Invasive-Species/dp/099817100X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1491060745&sr=8-1&keywords=barn+again+a+memoir.
  5. Order a signed copy through my website and use the code 6E5HZR4 to get $3 off (definitely recommended, although if a million people do it at once I'll be in trouble because I only have five or six copies on hand at the moment): http://malarkeyweb.com/new-products/barn-again-a-memoir.
  6. Whichever option you choose, or even if you choose none of the above options, please think about making your way over to The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature to read my latest short story, "Paris (When I Die)," which was just published today: http://www.deadmule.com/alan-good-paris-when-i-die-a-short-story/.



Special Non-Friday Limerick: Dear Donald, Fuck You, Donald. Sincerely, Existence

The Earth don't really need protecting
from the poltroons that we keep electing
because any day now
she can say "Go 'way now"
and we'll experience like a brief awareness that we are about to enter eternal nothingness while the Earth will probably really flourish in our absence for the next few billion years until the sun dies and existence as we once knew it is wiped out like one of those sand pictures Tibetan Buddhist monks spend hours and hours erecting.

Because You Can't Burn an Ebook

Are you a fucking maniac?

Do you think liberalism is a plot to destroy Christmas? Do you need a new TV because you doused your old one in holy water to protect it from Lady Gaga's Super Bowl performance? Did your parents name you "Deplorable"?

Or maybe you're the type of Salon.com-style identity-crazed pseudoliberal who's inclined to think someone like me ought to be preemptively kicked out of the literary canon on the basis of being a person of achromaticity experiencing cockhavingness—before I even get a chance to be excluded on the basis of unpopularity?

If you answered yes to any of the above questions, I need your help. Would you please consider boycotting my book? It's called Barn Again: A Memoir, but it's really a novel. (If you think fiction is devil-work, this is the book for you to hate!)

Pay special attention if you're a legislator from Arkansas: you'll probably want to ban my book from your schools because Barn Again promotes, among other evils, anti-authoritarianism, cunnilingus, and craft beer.

The hottest trend in boycotts is to actually buy the product you're boycotting in order to make a statement, so here's a suggestion: order Barn Again through my website and request a signed copy inscribed to—get this!—not yourself or like your grandma or something, but Donald Trump. Because I hate Donald Trump, maybe with more nuance than other Trump-haters but still hate, and if you make me make out the inscription to him, oh God that would show me!

Or you could take a selfie where you're holding up my book and flipping off the camera, and you could give it a funny caption like "fuck u AG I just bought your book & now I'm about to throw it in the trash next to my New Balances BITCH!"

You can save some money by just paying $0.99 for the ebook, which is itself a fuck-you to me because I hate ebooks, but that wouldn't be much of a protest because you can't burn an ebook.

You could always choose the more traditional but currently unfashionable style of boycott where you simply refuse to buy my goods, but if you go that route it is essential that you make a big and annoying deal about your boycott and make sure it trends on Twitter. Otherwise your effort is wasted!

If a group of maniacs in the late nineties hadn't tried to get the film version of The Tin Drum banned from the public library in Joplin, Missouri, I might not have even heard of Günter Grass until I got to grad school; yet if I hadn't gone and read The Tin Drum because so many maniacs were pissed off about it I might not have pursued literature and writing and thus never have gone to grad school. I don't make a ton of money off my degree, but my life would be so much poorer without it. You can make a difference in another misfit's life just by making a big enough stink to get my name in your local newspaper!

It's difficult for a writer such as myself—agentless, unfamous, lacking the resources to take writing retreats to the fucking Hamptons while I struggle to achieve recognition—to get noticed, and I can't think of a better way to grab attention by the pussy than by getting boycotted by a bunch of deranged ideologues, which is where you come in, by calling me a gutter-mouthed cultural elitist and telling your friends and Fakebook minions that I'm a godless devil trying to destroy the world through vocabulary.

(Obviously—I mean, it might not be obvious to a lot of people, which is why I'm compelled to include this parenthetical, tongue-not-in-cheek note, I'm being facetious. I don't want to be boycotted. I'm sure it would be good exposure, but it's not the type of experience I want to court. I'm mainly just mocking Starbucks boycotters and tennis-shoe-burners while trying to appeal to some of the people who, whatever their flaws, are less prone to over-reaction. Maybe one or two of them will read some of this, probably not this far, and think about buying the book. A long shot, I know.) Getting back into character:

Gut-thinking fit-pitchers of America, you've made this country an increasingly shitty place in which to live. Here is your chance to do something positive.

"SuperChad" Published in The East Bay Review

I'm happy to announce the publication of a new short story called "SuperChad," published in The East Bay Review.

I am used to rejection; I even like it sometimes. However, I was uncharacteristically bothered by the dozen or so rejections of this story, maybe because it was so tied up with my bitterness and sadness over the 2016 election, not just the result but the entire process.

I was also probably overconfident; I expected it to be picked quickly, but it took several months to find a home.

Official Statement of the Silent Majority Re President Trump’s First Month or So in Office

We saw Africans stolen from their homeland and brought to this continent and forced to work in inhumane conditions for no wages, walking testaments to the hypocrisy of our Constitution, and while we were conflicted at times we took comfort in the knowledge that we didn’t own slaves ourselves or if we did we treated them real nice.

We saw the stuff with the Indians/Native Americans/American Indians/Etc. and thought “No you’re right, that was messed up. Shouldn’t’ve gone down that way and we’re sorry. No not sorry enough to stop with the Tomahawk Chop, are ya kidding me?!”

We saw Japanese-Americans rounded up and forced into internment camps and we were like “I know it’s for the good of the country but sheesh, do we have to be shown the pictures?”

We saw our government drop atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, killing thousands and thousands of civilians, including children, and we applauded, politely, because we knew those deaths saved a million lives and while most of us couldn’t really define “utilitarianism” we most of us are to some extent believers in utilitarianism.

We saw Rosa Parks get arrested for refusing to give up her seat in the middle of the bus and move to the back of the bus and we were like “What? She’s too lazy to move to the back of the bus? I’m not racist but this incident reinforces all my baser thoughts about black people.”

We watched black people being beaten and sprayed with water and our consciences called out to us and we answered, “Well, I mean, they’re right, they’re on the right side of history and all but do they have to be trouble-makers about it? You catch more flies with honey you know.”

We saw young people protesting the war in Vietnam and we wished they would cut their hair.

We were never really bothered by the Watergate thing. Nixon had been really nice to us.

We saw feminists marching in the streets, burning their bras and carrying on. You say the bra-burning thing never really happened but I guess you don’t believe in the moon-landing either? OK yes we don’t really know what to believe anymore either.

We saw Ollie North lying to Congress but he had such a nice haircut and the Eighties were just so much fun.

We saw Bill Clinton lie about not having sex with those women and that’s honestly all that we remember from that era. And Seinfeld.

We saw the twin towers fall and were like, man, I really need a patriotic lapel pin.

We saw the first African-American president and were relieved to know that racism was officially over. (Except against white people.)

We saw minority groups of all stripes—blacks, Mexicans, LGBTQRSTUVWXYZ folks—standing up for their rights and secretly wished we could also be discriminated against, except without the inconvenience of actual discrimination, so we could stand up for our rights too because look how much fun!

We watched that video where the black guy who worked for a school was pulled over and he told the cop just so you know I have a permit to carry a concealed weapon and I do have a weapon in the car and the cop says “Don’t move” and so the guy stops reaching for his wallet and puts his hands back up and the cop sees that as a threat and shoots him, but of course all that happened, conveniently, before the video starts; the video starts right after he’s been shot so we only have the girlfriend’s story about what really happened and he could have been reaching for his gun. Right? He could have been reaching for his gun? I mean there are two sides to every story. Fortunately there were these memes all over Facebook where it turns out the dude was a crip and we were like “Oh thank God cuz I thought I was going to have to say something finally.”

We saw Donald J. Trump brag about moving on married women like bitches and grabbing them by their genitals which we all knew was locker room talk and we saw him mock that disabled reporter and were uncomfortable but also refreshed because political correctness has made it so hard to just have a good laugh these days. Plus he says he didn’t even do it, that it was fabricated by The Mainstream Media and we all know how they do. And he made some statements about Mexicans and Muslims that were in poor taste and his mastery of policy was—well, it would be hypocritical of us to criticize someone for his lack of mastery of policy—and we knew we had a chance to vote for Hillary Clinton and we almost thought about voting for her because Trump is a character to put it mildly but we could not in good conscience vote for “Killary.” We were too much troubled by e-mails and she-males.

We see the way Trump treats the national intelligence community and think, “Gee, for a guy who’s really in to golden showers he sure takes a hard line on leaks.”

We see people being forced to revel their passwords and are like, “OK, maybe we were upset that Obama was doing something to our metadata but if you don’t have anything to hide you don’t have anything to worry about so give up those passwords, people, because it’s time to give him a chance.”

We see Trump taking credit for the success of the Yemen raid but now the dad of the Navy SEAL who died in the raid is super-angry and calling for an investigation and people are like Trump wasn’t even in the situation room when it all went down and now Trump is blaming the successful mission’s failure on the military saying “This was something they wanted to do. They came to me, they explained what they wanted to do—the generals—who are very respected, my generals are the most respected that we’ve had in many decades, I believe. And they lost Ryan” and we’re actually like, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

We see the attacks on health care and environmental protections, we see the demonizing of Muslims, we see the scapegoating of immigrants, and for the most part it’s like “Meh,” except we also see the stuff the pope says and we’re like “Pope, cut it out, you’re making us feel weird,” and we see the weird powergrabby stuff with Steve Bannon, who makes us uncomfortable too and that’s sort of what we want to talk to you about: we have your back, Donald, one thousand percent, but you’ve got to give us some cover. It’s one thing to be endorsed by David Duke because we can say, “Hey, he can’t control who endorses him,” but it’s another thing to hire a guy who makes David Duke look like a hippie as your White House consigliore.

We are the Silent Majority and we will provide tacit consent to any injustice so long as it doesn’t affect people who look like us and will not in any way interfere with our habits, comforts, or television programming, but come on, Donald, we’re not asking you to do anything silly such as to “look deep within your heart” or “listen to your conscience.” All we’re asking is you take a timeout on the creeping Fascism stuff, just a little pause, at least long enough to get the pope off our backs, because this is getting hard to watch.