How’s it hanging, royal ugly dudes? I recently read Warren Mitchell’s The End of the Magical Kingdom, subtitled The Evil Princess. And I can say that almost immediately I was into this book. Because I happen to love Evil Things. I totally rooted for Scar the Lion. Hades was my homey. Gaston was a God. I desired Evil Queen’s hot bod. I wanted to motorboat Ursula, know what I’m saying? So the idea of an evil princess sorta struck me as awesome. Because in the end, all any dude wants is to fall for an evil girl and live happily ever after, totally slaying innocent people, taking bribes in exchange for all kinds of fancy shit, and having Satanic orgies on the weekend. I mean what else do you want out of life, seriously?
And to be totally completely honest, for a time I wondered if I really could read “The Evil Princess” since the fucking thing is like 500 pages long. I mean motherfucker, that’s like a whole year of my life! I have ADHD and also don’t read very well when I’m tripping balls. So I’m looking at this mega-book and wondering if I really can devote so much of my time to some sociopolitical allegorical Lord of the Rings shit. Because reading a book is not like watching a Rick and Morty cartoon. I mean reading a book actually lets someone inside your head! Think about it. You’re basically letting someone inside your thoughts and letting them molest your subconscious mind. I don’t know about you, but I don’t let just anyone go up my brain. My brain is my most sensitive orifice. What I’ve learned is that taking it up the brain is soooo much worse than taking it up the ass and especially if the writer is batshit crazy.
So I started reading “The Evil Princess” and at first it was kind of funny. I laughed for like ten minutes at the first joke. But to be completely forthright, some of that was because of some really good shit (Acapulco gold) I just smoked. But totally from Colorado, N.S.A. So no need to tear the door down in Fort Worth, Texas and shoot my dog, Chief Wiggum!
Anyway, the more I got into the book, the more it started getting really trippy. People were getting killed. People were getting fucked up. And I barely remember the point of the whole book, something about two chicks hooking up. But shit, all I remembered when I sobered up was reading about dead people and I was flipping the fuck out.
Who is this Warren Mitchell guy and why is he fucking me up the brain?! Anyway, I tried to read it again when I was clean and to be honest it went down a lot better with some wine. There is a lot of fucked up stuff in this book and like, if you’re preggers or something it might really mess up your baby. It might like, give you some Exorcist baby or something. Although having a baby that climbs walls would be kind of dope.
Long story short, I thought the first ten pages of the book were excellent and I can’t wait to read the rest some day. Some day when I think I can handle it, you know? I need to be in the woods somewhere, in the forest all fresh, chilling, relaxing, laughing all cool and shooting some B-ball outside of school, and all that jazz.
This book needs to be read on peyote or DMT, something to calm you the fuck down. Because I do not recommend this book on shrooms or LSD. Because the characters will start coming to life and like, telling you all kinds of warped shit. At one point after I shroomed too hard, one of the characters was standing beside me and looking me up and down like I was…well, like I was prime rib or something. I didn’t sleep well at all that night. I talked to God or shall I say the pantheistic Universe, the womb of our collective subconscious energy, and we broached the subject of the book. And “god”, or shall I say, the “Spinoza-defined elemental spirit of being that people label as God” said to me, “Do you really want to talk about that shit? How about we talk about dark matter instead”? And I’m like, “Fuck yeah!” And “God” said, “69 Dudes.” So long story short, it’s a meditational experiment more so than a book.
One thing’s for sure. This shit would make a cocksucker of a cartoon. I can totally imagine the two chicks, the witch and the princess, in a Fritz the Cat moment of sexual bliss. I would jerk so hard to that I would splooge on the screen! And I wouldn’t even wipe it down because it would be that kickass awesome sauce. I always had a thing for witches ever since I fell in love with Wendy from Casper.
Anyway my grade is a total B. Because “A” is for assholes and pretentious historical shit, but B is for BITCHIN literature to do while you’re krunked.