By Joe Taylor
NAT 1 LLC; 2023
Paperback, $9.99
Genre: Fantasy Fiction
Reviewed by Edward Journey
Okay. So, human actions and thoughts are controlled by viziers, not to be mistaken, necessarily, for Muslim viziers or the “grand vizier.” Viziers are two-hearted, three-eyed invisible beings who cannot eat but can imbibe massive quantities of Maker’s Mark. These viziers live on rooftops and control humanity through pheromones and telepathy, guided by a medieval codebook. They subsist off the “emotions and worries” of their human charges, whom they call “syrup units” in some sort of misguided homage to Aunt Jemima syrup. Viziers were hermaphrodites “long before multi-sexuality was … daring and cool” so they have “never, never fretted over transsexual desires.” Their pranks include prompting the invention of atomic and hydrogen bombs (“a dual gold benchmark”) as well as “pushing the mother to buy oyster stew next grocery day.” Viziers meet weekly at a Kentucky horse farm to compare notes and laugh about their humans; in the early pages, a two-year-old Secretariat runs in the distance.
Viziers “were not prophets, so they had no concept of the upcoming Internet and its social media … propelling complete fools into the public consciousness.” Even so, they move the plot along in Silent Bob, the latest antic, frantic, feisty exercise in wordplay levity and psychic anarchy by Joe Taylor. Taylor, a professor and the director of Livingston Press at the University of West Alabama, is still in touch with his inner sixteen-year-old and has great fun introducing the reader to viziers like Tiny T, Bill(ie)y – the spelling is a nod to Bill(ie)y’s nonbinary status, and The Fat One, who is particularly diabolical and elusive.
Among Tiny T’s syrup units are BJ and Rainey, particularly perceptive humans who seem to be the only ones who can see and hear the viziers. The chronology of BJ, Rainey, and Tiny T’s exploits is traced through timely references. As the story progresses, Sandy Hook, 9/11, Heaven’s Gate (the comet cult, not the Cimino film), the Challenger disaster, the Millenium Bug, and COVID-19 all make background appearances. A married couple gawks at the “brave new world!” of a Kentucky mall and the Knoxville World’s Fair “looks like something a drunken vizier would put on.” Stephen Foster songs make eerie appearances.
Time passes quickly in this raw and ribald comic novella. “Tragi-comic” is the favorite mode of Tiny T, whose pronoun is “it” and who has big plans for its syrup units, BJ and Rainey. The power of the Internet, however, threatens to usurp the power of the viziers to make humans do stupid things. Meanwhile, BJ and Rainey’s bond is intensified by their shared awareness of the viziers as they go from being neighbors to college to careers in writing, teaching, and television news.
Silent Bob explores what it means to be human … and to be controlled by mischievous, cynical, and grotesque creatures operating on your roof (or Silicon Valley). It’s a wild ride that may not be for everybody. But, as they say, IYKYK.
Edward Journey, a retired educator and theatre professional living in Birmingham, regularly shares his essays in the online journal “Professional Southerner” (www.professionalsoutherner.com).
