These are popular times for novels set in a dystopic near-future America. This setting has understandably become a reflection of our collective disaffection as citizens, our anxieties, our angst, the society’s hypocrisies and contradictions. In Zazen, Vanessa Veselka’s first novel, the crumbling America is as frail as the tofu scramble her twenty-seven year old protagonist Della slings at the vegan-friendly diner. The President plans numerous wars, protestors self-combust, bombs explode in our cities, and people die easily. And there’s very little Della’s tattooed, hair-dyed, vegan, sex-party-loving friends can do to stem the tide of the American corporate war machine.
I consider myself a big believer in good stories on screen. Give me a plot that makes sense and characters that change and I’ll watch it whether it’s a film, a television show, or a web series. Put it on a shiny screen and I’ll watch it like the pop culture veal I am.
But why do I, like so many other people, enjoy the ubiquitous genre of reality TV? In reality television, there are no real plots. Often, the characters don’t change. Only occasionally do they show glimpses of vulnerability while their misanthropic leanings, Machiavellian manipulations, addictions, compulsions, flagrant greed, and general dysfunction get overexposed in a debauched light. Do I only watch because I enjoy being a spectator to the misery of others and feeling superior to those who struggle with poor life choices?
FICTION BY LELAND CHEUK: “A man named Man wakes angry, very angry, and he’s not certain why. There are many reasons these days. Just open your Twitter feed. That’s what Man does. China raises interest rates. Bon Jovi tops Billboard. Man takes hostages with sword. All of this irritates Man.”
FICTION BY LELAND CHEUK: “If Dave switches from an extra large coffee to a small one daily, he’ll save roughly $365 this year, as this year is not a leap year. With $365 dollars, he can almost buy the new Android OS touchscreen phone he wants.”
FICTION BY LELAND CHEUK: “The president coughed, a hacking, desperate, stabbing sound. The car slowed, and the president blinked away tears and tried to breathe until the scouring noises from his chest ceased. The driver asked if he should return to the hospital.”
FICTION BY LELAND CHEUK: A story about love in the time of financial meltdowns
FICTION BY LELAND CHEUK: “In my class, Oscar is the ringleader. I imagine him growing to be a morally challenged authority figure: a crime organization don, a politician on the take, or an investment bank executive – hypercompetitive and lawless like the people I used to work for”
BY LELAND CHEUK: A fiction writer walks onto a stand-up open mic stage…
FICTION BY LELAND CHEUK: “Today’s my thirtieth birthday. Just like any other day. I’ll play video games all day.”
SHORT FICTION BY LELAND CHEUK: “Finn knows what the people in the office call him. Tool. Douche-bag. Sycophant. He’s heard it all before.”
A COLUMN BY LELAND CHEUK: When a life-long love of movies sours
LELAND CHEUK has cause to be optimistic about the new decade
Culture columnist LELAND CHEUK finds signs of life in the beleaguered comedy album
A SHORT STORY BY LELAND CHEUK: “I am doing well up here in Portland – thank you for asking. I know how much it pains you to ask me anything.”
BY LELAND CHEUK: A review of Tony DuShane’s Confessions of a Teenage Jesus Jerk
Finding cultural bright spots in this long winter of economic collapse
Will America be left behind by the likes of countless other Democracies?
Why has Barack Obama lost his nerve during this trying time for the country?
One recent novel that mocks the rich better than the rest is Katie Arnoldi’s The Wentworths.
One year ago, I made my last post on my now-defunct personal blog. The last post was sports-related – I was lamenting my beloved and favorite sports franchise, the Boston Celtics, who had just finished 24-58 and traded for an $18 million 31 year-old shooting guard Ray Allen in a desperate attempt to become relevant in Beantown a.k.a Championship City. I posted this photo of GM Danny Ainge and Head Coach Doc Rivers after they failed to get the first pick in the draft, looking generally befuddled, like a pair of incompetent detectives from The Wire. 
I don’t mind mentioning that the state of the Celtics last year was not unlike the state of my blog – generally ignored and more work than it was worth.
Today, the Celtics are Eastern Conference Champions, a few days away from playing the LA Lakers for all the marbles. There’s a life lesson in this, I believe. As I sit and post to IsGreaterThan for the first time in several weeks in my tiny role as a contributing blogger to this eclectic, cerebral and all-around fabulous journal exploring the intersections of culture, politics and art, I realize that we can all be too hopeless in these times of recessions that no one can confirm but everyone can feel, endless wars, the continuing decline of the American empire, the simultaneous bad karma of a 1 billion people according to karmic Ph.D. Sharon Stone, and the non-existence of global warming (Myanmar, China, Philippines? I see no evidence of global warming either!). Quagmires can turn into paradises in short order. You may not expect it, you’ll never know when, but like the Boston Celtics and LA Lakers, meeting in the NBA Finals for the first time in 22 years, good things can happen. 
There are many things I’m looking forward to in the next few months. Here are a few:
Paul M Davis