Dystopian Seuss for the Youngest of Use

My two-year-old's favorite book at the moment is a Dr. Seuss story titled I Wish that I Had Duck Feet. 

Maybe I've been writing waaaaaaay too much dystopian fiction.  Or, maybe this is the 1984 of children's literature.

The story starts off well enough, like all dystopias do, with a boy experimenting with extreme body modifications.  He weighs the pros and cons of ear lobe stretching, facial tattoos, scarification, and branding  duck feet, an elephant trunk, a whale spout, and a tiger tail, among other things, and finally decides that everything at once is reasonable decision.

And that's when things go bad.

Really bad.

Because, you know, being different is a crime.

That's just dark for a children's book.

Possibly the worst part of this book is that our protagonist doesn't continue the fight.  Just like 1984, he emerges, his will broken to Big Brother's.

The yellow on this page creeps me out.

But I might just be reading too much into this.  

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This week's poem is Foggy.  And yeah, I still feel foggy.

I have just posted the final chapter of The Culling!  Of course this means we actually get to talk about the fact that almost the entire book occurs in virtual reality.  

VR Wear helmets arrive covered in a plethora of warning labels.  Reading between the lines, you will quickly realize this game has nothing to do with fun.  The history is buried in the archived internet pages of its inventor; Stillman, who has fled the country to avoid prosecution.  

Initially marketing his invention as a cure for Drug Dependency and Depression, Stillman was sued following the suicides of several players.  In spite of its shady history, desperate individuals continue to buy the game in hopes that it will live up to its original claims.  Rumor has it that Stillman still plays the game, seeking to save as many players as he finds.