Dogs of Orninica (3 page)

If we're challenged, we complain loudly that our proud traditions are being threatened. We use this word a lot, 'tradition'. As if it implies some kind of sacred tenet that can never be challenged or scrutinized in any way. We stuff all kinds of morally repugnant acts into this word and somehow they are justified in our minds, because our parents were just as repugnant. It would be unthinkable to rise above our parents, to become better than they were; more free, more logical, more healthy, more compassionate, more happy, less fucked in the head.

And then the traditions that actually had weight to them, those that had us living in peaceful harmony with our natural world, as any leaf hanging on any tree anywhere in the macrocosm, those traditions we throw out with the dirty dishwater. No profit.

If I could go back in time somehow, I would whisper in my great grandfather's ear and tell him to start a tradition to wipe all tradition clean with every generation. Tradition would become taboo and society would progress logically. Maybe then we'd be able to let go of our compulsive disorder to rise above everyone else, and society could finally progress unhindered by the greed of the few.

Actor

Harvey Fidelbrook is no one's puppet. Harvey Fidelbrook is no fool! The anonymous coward posting these attacks against me all over the Internet is completely misguided about who I am and what I stand for. I'm currently on location, shooting a deathly serious biopic about the plight of the Soup monks here in the impoverished Rrado mountains. I play Brother Buster Goodog, the heroic holy man that led a one-hundred day hunger strike in protest of our government's brutal and ongoing trade sanctions and blockade against the Autonomous Tribes of Nureongi. I'm making a difference. I'm teaching the world to be more compassionate. What are you doing?

This is important work that I do. No armchair revolutionary-nobody can ever hope to judge my countless achievements, and I'm willing to bet you every one of my yachts that I've accomplished more acts of importance this month than you have in your entire life.

Harvey Fidelbrook effects change on a global scale!

Fans, I'm sorry for the negative vibes, but I can't just sit back and let spineless little dogs shit all over my legacy. I've worked too hard to allow this conspiracy against my kind and giving nature to continue. I think I've kept quiet for long enough.

I invite Mr. Anonymous Revolutionary to dog-up and join me on a fact finding mission to the appalling shantytowns of Nureongi. That's right, you heard it here exclusively on Harvey Fidelbrook's Rainbow Blog; I am going to be the first Orninican to travel to Nureongi in decades, as my close personal friend, the President has given me special permission to enter the no fly zone in my jet. Come and see for yourself Mr. Anonymous. Harvey Fidelbrook understands the plight of the impoverished and downtrodden. Harvey Fidelbrook can seal the fissures that separate us from our isolated Nureongi brothers.

So whoever you are, contact my business manager and she'll make the arrangements. You can witness with your own eyes the important works I perform when I'm away from a movie set. Grasp the love in front of you and let the eternal light energy burn its imprint on your tortured soul.

I guess everyone has heard by now, I got nominated for my work on last year's gritty epic, 'The Fighter'. It feels amazing to once again be recognized for such an important, groundbreaking role. For those that are new to my blog, I had to gain 50 kg for that part. Well, I just had to lose 70 kg to play Brother Buster, so it's been a real big effort. My body is a finely tuned machine. My team have me on an all-liquid diet. Nothing but carrot juice and corn syrup, baby.

To get into the character, I've spent a month living the life of a Rrado monk. Total abstinence. It's been fucking hard work but you've got to be dedicated to your craft if you want to really inhabit the character's skin. Sorry, ladies.

Acting isn't some useless 9-5 job where you never grow or expand your mind. Acting is a delicate craft that takes a lifetime of suffering and deprivation to master.

I am every character that I perform as. I feel everything they feel, suffer just as they suffer. I am Brother Buster. I cry myself to sleep every night thinking of all the hungry little yellow bastards in Nureongi. I tell you, just last night, room service was phoning to ask if I was okay because I was sobbing so loudly. I made it clear to her that I wasn't okay, and I would never be okay as long as there was woe in the hearts of little pups all over the world.

A lot of my peers like to romanticize the craft of acting. They make it sound almost like a party. I'm here to tell you, it's no party. I'm just going to come out and say it; what we do is as important as the work any life-saving doctor or fireman does. Probably more so, since we reach a global audience. Just think of all the blank impressionable minds my films have influenced to do good.

I stand on a hot set all day, surrounded by hot lights, wearing an itchy hot costume, working my tail off to expose important issues to a worldwide audience that numbers in the millions.

If it weren't for films like 'The Fighter', would anyone understand the utter misery the penniless and brain-damaged former Pitbull League champion Spike Mox experienced after washing out of the game? Would they know the quiet longing for a better life of the homeless grass-hooch addict I played in the multiple-award winning 'Desolation Bones'? Do you know how many dogs have come up to me at signings and told me they've stopped making fun of the mentally challenged after seeing my gut-wrenching performance as Gus in 'Simple Dreamer', or as Eddie in the heart-warming comedy 'Special Ed'?

None of these important issues would have gotten exposed to the world without the hard work of actors. And yes, we're rewarded for that work financially. I'm struggling to think of a vocation that gives more back to society than acting. Is it so unreasonable for a classically trained, multi-talented and hard-working artist to be rewarded for his dauntless efforts to steer the public consciousness and bring a little culture to the masses? No, sir.

I am not ashamed of my success in this world. As my fans all know, I came from nothing, pulled myself up by the bootstraps, and built my illustrious body of work brick by brick. My first pay check wasn't even worth wiping with, but I persisted, like a courageous little worker bee chasing his foolish dream of a mansion made of honeycomb.

My parents were simple stockbrokers with only a pittance to their names. My trust fund was a joke compared to my classmates at the Barksdale Academy, and often I was forced to dine apart from my inner circle to save a penny. My humble beginnings are what gave me the drive to better myself, to perfect my craft and to make a difference in the world that would be felt for generations.

No one can claim Harvey Fidelbrook hasn't worked hard all his life to reach the top. I deserve everything I've worked for and I refuse to apologize for it.

There's been a lot of interest from the media in my latest caninatarian project, the purchase of tropical island Nona. I have big plans for this place, including an exclusive casino eco-resort that will be staffed by the impoverished Nona natives. Every dog on the island will have the opportunity to work at the resort and better their family's standing in life forever, just like I did when I became an actor all those years ago.

This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for these poor simple corn-farmers to make something of their lives, and I hope that every one of them seizes the opportunity. We will even pay to fly to the mainland any Nona native that for whatever reason chooses not to take the job offered to him.

The five-star resort will house up to ten-thousand guests at a time, and feature a championship golf course, an assortment of 5-star gourmet restaurants, a spa and wellness center, a wine tasting club, a sailing club, polo and croquet fields and a state-of-the-art theme park for your pups with rides based on the unstoppable animated franchise I lend my voice to as the beloved title character in 'Oh No! It's Jelly the Ghost!'

Only green technologies that are respectful of the delicate natural environment will be used to build the accommodations, which will range from beach huts and holiday apartments that actually touch the waves along the shoreline, to log cabins in the mountains, and a luxury full-service hotel in between. Don't worry, the premium beach huts will be built just as big and comfortable as a spacious penthouse, so you won't feel at all cramped. Each of them will come with their own doorkeeper, maid and private chef, or you can bring your own and save the difference.

The resort will also home one of the features I'm most excited about, the largest amphitheater in the world, crafted out of ecologically conscious faux stone that will be airlifted in from 8000 km away block by block.

I will personally be there on opening week next June to direct and star in a production of the wondrous classic musical 'Bring on the Island Fever'. As I write, the bulldozers are prepping the site and the very first Nonaon has been hired to oversee catering for the construction crew. I'm told the excitement on the island among the natives is intoxicating, as they prepare to seize a better future for their families than their meager subsistence farming existence can ever allow.

We're even setting up a school where the very best Orninican teachers will prepare the young islanders for the new world of endless opportunity ahead of them. Really great stuff. I'm not supposed to talk about it yet, but my business partners have also acquired a neighboring uninhabited rock-island to use for staff-quarters in the future. And of course, just a few knots away is my own private Fidelbrook Island. I'll be picking a couple of lucky young fans from the crowd after the show every night to join me for drinks at my old homestead.

Hey, I haven't even made the most exciting announcement yet. We've received special dispensation from the government to bypass the new 'tree-less tomorrow' initiative. The logger-bots will fly right past the islands, without felling a single tree. So the resort will be the last public place on earth where you can still see trees in their natural habitat. Though of course, we will be cordoning each tree off and posting guards as a health and safety precaution.

As a favor to an old producer friend who helped me get my start in this business, I agreed to film an extended cameo in the upcoming cinematic adaptation of the classic television show 'Tales From The Hamster Wheel'. I played a dirty cop lost in a sea of guilt and self-pity. I don't want to spoil anything, but I'll just say I got to hold a mighty interesting conversation with the grim-reaper. I directed all my scenes in the movie, and I'll also be contributing a musical piece I wrote and performed to the movie's soundtrack, so keep an eye out for it. It was a lot of harmless fun. I agreed to do it for only half my usual quote, so it was really for a good cause.

One more important thing I'd like to talk about before I log out, I'm extremely happy with the performance of the new TongueFresh Ultra 
®
 aerosol antiperspirant. It keeps me fresh and drool-free all day. It's so effective that you only need to make two applications through the day, once in the morning and once in the evening. That's right, no more sneaking off to the bathroom in the middle of the day to top up your application. If TongueFresh Ultra 
®
 is good enough for Harvey Fidelbrook, with his busy globe-trotting schedule, it's good enough for you. And it's soon to come in Lemon Scented.

Grand Bishop

My pups. A lot of my congregates ask me what can be done about the Nureongi dilemma. It's a very difficult issue, but I will attempt to address it in terms that the average dog can understand. The famished Nureongi, running around their unkempt forests, killing foul vermin for sustenance, may look like primitive specimens of Canidae erectus from a distance, but they are anything but. You can't expect a race of dogs evolved from dirty caged livestock to be spiritual beings. These godless carnivorous yellow savages might not have any chance at entering the great cave in the stars, but they could at least adopt some semblance of civilized manners.

At the very least, they could sheath their tongues and dock their grossly offensive tails so as to not offend their dignified neighbors in the West. If we all have to live together on this planet, they should be required to make some effort to fit in and not cause offense to us proud man-fearing Orninicans that continue to demonstrate our great patience by tolerating their savage ways.

Talking of accepting different cultures, I'm very saddened by the renewed violence between our faithful and the followers of the misguided Modern Church of Soupman. As unfortunate as their worship of a non-human alien is, it is no cause for the increasingly vicious attacks on their temples, homes and places of work.

It is true that the Soups are blasphemous heretic mongrels, with shameful customs, and eccentric hedonistic lifestyles, but by spilling their blood, we dirty our hands, and offend the Master of all masters, the holy lord Bahman. We mustn't forget that Bahman, while never afraid to meter out painful punishment upon wayward sinners, was vehemently opposed to killing. Whenever a pistol was pointed at him, he would take it to pieces, cast it onto the floor and curse it for its deadly power.

I notice it has become harder to tell a Soup on the street from a Bahmanite. Increasingly, they leave the red capes they've always worn so arrogantly at home, only donning them on religious holidays. If all Bahmanites would wear their blessed black cowls everyday, and especially after dusk as the holy books advise, it would be much easier to tell us apart from the Soups.

While on the topic of Soups, a new Soup-run restaurant just opened on Rover Avenue, 'Grover's', though you wouldn't be able to tell just by looking at it. The decal and menu seems to be deliberately secular. However, I spoke to the manager and he had a clear Soup arrogance in his eyes, talking in a casual manner to me, without any of the respect I'd expect a devout fellow believer to give to his Grand Bishop. My suspicions were confirmed when the waitress told me the restaurant would remain open on the holy holiday next Monday.