Saturday, 1 November 2014

Manflesh

After a long deliberation, I have decided to publish a book written about two years ago. It is called Manflesh. Let's talk about it. 

Man...flesh? We hope you didn't! 

Oh, but I did. 
I blame this on Husband and his band which, sadly, sort of broke. It was called the BoneFleshDolls, and they played wicked cool jazz-inspired alternative metal. One of their songs dealt with devouring human flesh, and, after a long while of rocking with them, I started wondering... what would it be like to eat human flesh? Would it be much different from pork? Would you notice the difference if you didn't know what you were ingesting? 
I've always wondered what man-meat would taste like. If the opportunity of tasting human flesh came along, I would take it. 
Naturally, we must keep in mind that when venturing toward cannibalism, diseases are soon to follow. 

So you didn't do the obvious approach.  

When ingesting human flesh, a human is in danger of contracting an illness called Kuru, among other things. Indigenous tribes practicing cannibalism have that disease, and if we were to intake manflesh as a part of our daily diet, we would most likely develop that illness as well. The reason why I skipped that step is simple: it would have been sooooooo boring. It's been done so many times I can't count that far. I wanted to do something different, to really fuck around with the idea of unwillingly eating human flesh. 
It was fun. 

Hey, isn't this a sequel to the Mousetrap? 

Well, no. Not exactly. We do take a minor detour via a certain TV-game-show called the Mousetrap, and yes, we do take a brief look behind the scenes, but no, this isn't a sequel. It's a story on its own, with a little bit of the blood-scented cinnamon we've tasted before. 
And, naturally, we get to say Hi to Jeremy. Two of them, actually. 

What do you mean, two Jeremys? 

As you know, there's always a Jeremy in the Mousetrap. He is tall, white of hair, and he has an impeccable smile. As we all know, human beings aren't built to live forever. Game shows, however, are. Therefore, Jeremy must occasionally be replaced. In Manflesh, we get to see the changeover. Someone in the studio changes the reel at a cigarette burn, and nobody in the audience notices 
(a nice big dick) 
a thing. 

So once again, Manflesh? What is this Manflesh? 

Manflesh is a corporation specializing in meat products. A pretty basic consumer based company. But one must keep in mind that times are very different. The world has changed, and food is not easy to come by. Manflesh Co has risen to fill the need for meat, and the consumers greet it accordingly. 
The name gives the company away, but the consumers don't seem to notice. 
Or maybe they just don't care. 
Who knows. All I know is that Manflesh offers food, and the people eat. It's all very simple, the basic law of demand. 

You're sick, you know that? 

Yes, I know. All writers are a bit off in the head. We get a strange notion and feel the need to flaunt it. We're like kids who made their first poo-poo in the potty: look, Ma, I made an icky! 
Admit it, you love it. We're all funny that way: we see something ewwy and we just have to poke it a bit to see just how ewwy it really is. Come on, you've seen the rotten, maggot-infested mushroom in the forest and paused to push it around just to see the maggots squirming inside, haven't you? Don't lie, you have. Did it give you nightmares? Did it make you wake up in the middle of the night with a film of sweat covering your skin? 
If it didn't, did you hope it would have? 
SteveO once said something I really liked. I shall quote him now, though it won't be word-for-word. 
We read horror to learn not to be afraid of death. 
Stephen King is one of my favourites, as you may know by now. I have a book that contains several interviews with him between the years 1979 and 1987. I leaf through it occasionally, and find little things, halves of sentences, that make me feel I'm doing something right. 
Manflesh felt like that from beginning to end. It was born in six(ish) months, and, like the Mousetrap, was a ridiculously easy birth. 
I hope you enjoy it, you sick bastards <3

Heather Wielding

Labels: , ,

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home