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Fragmented America
Crackpot
How did a well meaning decent spy get mixed up in a mechanical vendetta?...
- GenresScience Fiction
150 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1977
24 people want to read
About the author
Ron Goulart
604 books99 followersPseudonyms: Howard Lee; Frank S Shawn; Kenneth Robeson; Con Steffanson; Josephine Kains; Joseph Silva; William Shatner.
Ron Goulart is a cultural historian and novelist. Besides writing extensively about pulp fiction—including the seminal Cheap Thrills: An Informal History of Pulp Magazines (1972)—Goulart has written for the pulps since 1952, when the Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction published his first story, a sci-fi parody of letters to the editor. Since then he has written dozens of novels and countless short stories, spanning genres and using a variety of pennames, including Kenneth Robeson, Joseph Silva, and Con Steffanson. In the 1990s, he became the ghostwriter for William Shatner’s popular TekWar novels. Goulart’s After Things Fell Apart (1970) is the only science-fiction novel to ever win an Edgar Award.
In the 1970s Goulart wrote novels starring series characters like Flash Gordon and the Phantom, and in 1980 he published Hail Hibbler, a comic sci-fi novel that began the Odd Jobs, Inc. series. Goulart has also written several comic mystery series, including six books starring Groucho Marx. Having written for comic books, Goulart produced several histories of the art form, including the Comic Book Encyclopedia (2004).
Ron Goulart is a cultural historian and novelist. Besides writing extensively about pulp fiction—including the seminal Cheap Thrills: An Informal History of Pulp Magazines (1972)—Goulart has written for the pulps since 1952, when the Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction published his first story, a sci-fi parody of letters to the editor. Since then he has written dozens of novels and countless short stories, spanning genres and using a variety of pennames, including Kenneth Robeson, Joseph Silva, and Con Steffanson. In the 1990s, he became the ghostwriter for William Shatner’s popular TekWar novels. Goulart’s After Things Fell Apart (1970) is the only science-fiction novel to ever win an Edgar Award.
In the 1970s Goulart wrote novels starring series characters like Flash Gordon and the Phantom, and in 1980 he published Hail Hibbler, a comic sci-fi novel that began the Odd Jobs, Inc. series. Goulart has also written several comic mystery series, including six books starring Groucho Marx. Having written for comic books, Goulart produced several histories of the art form, including the Comic Book Encyclopedia (2004).
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
January 18, 2021
Crackpot is a rather obscure novel from Goulart's Fragmented America sequence. Doubleday published it in 1977, and I don't believe it ever had a mass-market release. It includes most of the tropes of Goulart's satiric humor novels, such as a laconic investigator, malfunctioning machinery, a mad scientist, beautiful young damsels, over-the-top political agendas, etc. It hasn't aged as well as many of his other books, primarily because the targets of his lampoons are no longer well known in popular culture. (For example, the cover calls Goulart "The Mack Sennet (sic) of Science Fiction.") Goulart is almost a fast and fun read, though, and this one is no exception.
March 7, 2017
review of
Ron Goulart's Crackpot
by tENTATIVELY, a cONVENIENCE - March 7, 2017
This is the 42nd bk I've read by Goulart. It was published in 1977. John Waters's Crackpot was published in 1986. That just goes to show ya that there's more than one way to crack a pot. The cover of this one calls Goulart "The Mack Sennet of Science Fiction". Since the 21st century seems to be becoming the era-in-wch-no-one-remembers-anything-anymore I'll tell you who "Mack Sennet" is given that you probably don't even know the name of the last person you had sex with.
For one thing, "Mack Sennet" is probably Mack Sennett. The cover of this bk left off the last "t". The assumption is that this was a simple mistake. But what if it ISN'T A MISTAKE?! What if the person who designed the cover encrypted a plea for help?! What if Little Billy Book Cover Designer was actually chained to his desk trying to get a message-in-a-bottle out to the public to come & save him? Maybe the message tells us to remove the last "t" from "Goulart" to produce "Goular", suspiciously similar to "Ghoulish"?
Anyway, Mack Sennett founded Keystone Studios & was famous for slapstick comedies like those done by The Keystone Cops. Poor Little Billy was probably trying to tell us that the Keystone Cops have bungled his rescue. Most of Goulart's novels are set on planets other than Earth but this one's a home-o. That makes it somewhat unusual. Another little (Oh, Little Billy, forgive us!) thing that makes it unusual is that Goular(t) uses a formal literary device that has page one, the beginning of the 1st chapter, begin thusly:
"These things all happened at approximately the same time on June 13, 2015."
& page 145, the beginning of the last chapter, begins thusly:
"These things happened at approximately the same time on June 29, 2015."
That might not seem like much, & maybe it's not, but I noticed it so it struck me as worth mentioning. Full circle n'at. Note that the bk's set 38 yrs in the future from its date of publication - wch happens to be 2 yrs in the past of this review. I love that sort of thing, don't you? Reading bks that're set in the future wch happens to be your present or past? That way the reader can see how much of a prophet the writer succeeded at being.
In this case, Goulart's remnants of the USA have started a war w/ Mexico by annexing some of it - not such a far-fetched scenario. Mexico is simultaneously in the midst of a Civil War. It's not quite the same as having the Great Kleptocrat proposing wasting $11,000,000,000.00 of the taxpayer's money on building a wall to separate the USA from Mexico but it's close enuf in absurdity to be worth bringing up. The Great Kleptocrat & his Plunderbund aren't funny at all but Goular(t) certainly is:
"Two more of the large-size paramedic andies pushed through the door before he reached it. "We request, Dr. David F. Westchester, that you surrender yourself to us under the provisions of the Goofy Doctor Act."
""Who's goofy? Simply because I cut off a few wrong parts from a few spoilsport patients, does that make me a loony?"
""You're not authorized to cut off any parts," the android up on the ramp pointed out. "You're a rectal smear man pure and simple."
""Oh, sure," said Dr. Westchester. "That's a great job for a man with my training. I graduated from the Bible Truth Medical & Faithhealing College of Topeka, Kansas, Heartland Empire, at the head of my class. Now I must spend my days looking into people's poopoos. It's an ignoble and—"" - p 11
Shades of Dr. Benway. Wch, by the way, is the name of the last person you picked up on Tinder. Goular(t)'s future, our past, is full of intrusive dysfunctional technology every-wch-way-you-turn:
""You've just stepped," informed the next gutter-speaker, "into the footsteps of Rance Keane, noted gunfighter, who is by apt coincidence, now appearing—"
""This isn't Rance Keane's square. It says Butch the Wonder Dog."" - p 15
I'm reminded of the reminder messages I kept getting on my iJones about a non-existent event that's 'already happened'. Goular(t)'s future, our past, is a mess.. just like our present.. but different:
"A fragile blond man at the sofa end, after coughing, said, "We'll return to this stimulating debate on the moral validity of our position in this conflict with Mexico when 'Aspects of War' returns in three minutes."
"A naked girl, decorated with cosmetic polka dots and gold bangles, replaced the debaters on the screen. "How'd you like to spend a night with a hot ticket like me?" she inquired in a husky voice, "I bet I'm every man's idea of a terrific lay. Yet not so long ago I was merely another frustrated house-frau. Then I heard about the International Home Hooker School of—"" - p 28
What do you think she wd've sd before she was so-rudely-cut-off? 'the International Home Hooker School of Pancakes'?
Our hero, Rafe Santana, is a Mexican-American news-caster who's getting what seems to be a promotion by being sent to Mexico to cover(-up) the war. He gets some instructions:
"["']Minimize, while not totally ignoring, the Mexican claims that our motives in annexing are based on a desire for commercial gains and new territory to exploit. Emphasize, rather, the fact we are bringing a stability to the Mexican people, giving them a security which they haven't ever had under the fluctuating regimes of Mexico City.'" Less let the memo drop to the vibrabed, gazed up at the mirrored ceiling and then selected another piece of fax-paper. "This came in two days ago from the Secretary. Hum . . . '. . . nothing basically wrong with having a MexAm anchor on the War Desk. Indeed it may, subtly of course, serve to emphasize that the Mexican people do accept and comprehend what we are doing for them.' Isn't that nice?"
"Rafe's hands had tightened into fists. He cleared his throat. "I want this job," he said. "So read me everything Secretary McRaine has to say."" - p 33
The next passage was fun to read given that for the 1st time in my life my local water company had 100,000 or so of its customers boiling our water for 36 hrs or so b/c of water in a particular reservoir not passing inspection:
"The houseboat restaurant bobbed gently on the black water. The proprietor leaned close to Rafe to say, "I wouldn't order the seafood plate."
"Rafe said, "Not going to order anything until my friend arrives."
"The proprietor was a big wide man, dressed in a two-piece off-white evening suit. "They're dumping some kind of leftover chemical weapon stuff in the gulf," he explained in a low voice, glancing at the dozen or so other customers scattered around the softly swaying room. "The fish tastes okay, but for six or eight hours after you eat it you have an uncontrollable urge to tell the truth. I confide this in you, because in your business—"" - p 37
If only chemical weapons were that benign.
1st we had Ern Malley in poetry, now there's Fulmer Anderson. That strikes as an excellent pen-name for someone writing about the Adventures of Melania's Rump:
""You've probably never heard of me. My name is Fulmer Anderson."
""I haven't."
""My trouble, besides a publisher who's snarfing me, is I keep creating immortal characters. You do that and readers won't know you, they'll only know your immortal characters. I wager you can't tell me who wrote Sherlock Holmes, Tarzan or Fu Manchu."
""Conan Doyle, Edgar Rice Burroughs and Sax Rohmer. What immortal characters have you created?"
""Well, someone with a literary background such as you obviously have possibly doesn't read series books," said Fulmer Anderson. "I write the Masochist series and the Sadist series, and my latest series is about Mr. & Mrs. Lust."" - p 38
Obviously, Goular(t)'s prophetic abilities fell a bit short on this one. No 21st century newscaster wd be able to remember the names of those authors. Goular(t)'s dysfunctional future has just about everything automated, even the priests - so who does the child molesting? After all, the sports coaches are probably automated too.
"A robot priest, one of the old-style black cylinder types, was flat on his back beside the font. Apparently he'd slipped on the slick flooring and been unable to upright himself. He was sprawled there, wheels spinning futilely, muttering, "Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa."
""Let me help you, padre." Rafe stooped, got a hand under one of the robot priest's several arms.
""Bless you, my son," spoke the robot when he was back on his wheels. He made a lopsided sign of the cross with one of his arms. "Have you come to see the magnificent Church of St. Isaac? It is one of the finest completely mechanized churches of God in the entire Western world."" - p 46
There are apparently at least 6 saints named Isaac so Goular(t) might be making a joke here.. or a clue about the whereabouts of Little Billy. What I think of is an ex-roommate of mine who sd mea culpa all the time. It used to really get my goat.
In Goular(t)'s future, our past, androids even officiate at funerals. Do they go to work in an Uber taxi? Or do they just 'live' in the funeral home?
"In the shadowy, sweet-smelling hallway an android was waiting. He had a pink face, blond curly hair and wore a long white robe. "Gentlemen, allow me to convey my deepest sympathies. I am a Model 207XR Nondenominational Reverend. I'll be officiating at the brief but touching ceremony . . . um . . . I find myself with a slight problem." He motioned the nephew aside, led him into an alcove where a fountain was spewing multicolored water. "You're the relative of the deceased?"
""Yes. What—"
""I've officiated at over two thousand cremations since I was installed here at the Wee Forge in the Briars . . . uh . . . but, young fellow, this is the first time I've had to deliver a farewell sermon about anyone who died in a bordello. Frankly, I'm stumped. Perhaps if I tried a few—"" - p 91
See? Technology doesn't solve everything now, does it? Although a main thread running thru this tapestry of electronic wonder is a device called a "Gadget" invented by a man named "Crackpot". The illegal Gadget enables any of its users to remotely control other machines. It comes in very handy:
"you ordered the Low Budget $12,000 Funeral for your late uncle."
""It's sufficient I think, especially since—"
""The point is, sir, you haven't paid so much as a penny, not one cent. The credit number you provided turns out to be spurious, further—"
""Don't worry." From a coat pocket the young man produced a Gadget, much like the one he'd given his late uncle. "You're not going to make a frumus, are you? No, you're going to tell your computer it's all been paid for. The whole thing, including a small wake afterward for those old guys.
""Why, yes. Certainly. Was there some doubt?"" - p 92
Why, I'd give Melania's Rump to have one of those. Maybe I cd save Little Billy.. or, at least, get some truth in advertising:
"Above the eggshell-white halfdome huge throbbing light-signs announced AmericaMecca Market! Bringing the USA to the World! Junk Food! Gimcrack! Shoddy Appliances! Marked-Up & Unsafe Drugs! Hundreds of Other Worthless & Dangerous Items!" - p 94
Goular(t)'s a barrel of laughs going over New Mexxxico's Niagara Falls.
Ron Goulart's Crackpot
by tENTATIVELY, a cONVENIENCE - March 7, 2017
This is the 42nd bk I've read by Goulart. It was published in 1977. John Waters's Crackpot was published in 1986. That just goes to show ya that there's more than one way to crack a pot. The cover of this one calls Goulart "The Mack Sennet of Science Fiction". Since the 21st century seems to be becoming the era-in-wch-no-one-remembers-anything-anymore I'll tell you who "Mack Sennet" is given that you probably don't even know the name of the last person you had sex with.
For one thing, "Mack Sennet" is probably Mack Sennett. The cover of this bk left off the last "t". The assumption is that this was a simple mistake. But what if it ISN'T A MISTAKE?! What if the person who designed the cover encrypted a plea for help?! What if Little Billy Book Cover Designer was actually chained to his desk trying to get a message-in-a-bottle out to the public to come & save him? Maybe the message tells us to remove the last "t" from "Goulart" to produce "Goular", suspiciously similar to "Ghoulish"?
Anyway, Mack Sennett founded Keystone Studios & was famous for slapstick comedies like those done by The Keystone Cops. Poor Little Billy was probably trying to tell us that the Keystone Cops have bungled his rescue. Most of Goulart's novels are set on planets other than Earth but this one's a home-o. That makes it somewhat unusual. Another little (Oh, Little Billy, forgive us!) thing that makes it unusual is that Goular(t) uses a formal literary device that has page one, the beginning of the 1st chapter, begin thusly:
"These things all happened at approximately the same time on June 13, 2015."
& page 145, the beginning of the last chapter, begins thusly:
"These things happened at approximately the same time on June 29, 2015."
That might not seem like much, & maybe it's not, but I noticed it so it struck me as worth mentioning. Full circle n'at. Note that the bk's set 38 yrs in the future from its date of publication - wch happens to be 2 yrs in the past of this review. I love that sort of thing, don't you? Reading bks that're set in the future wch happens to be your present or past? That way the reader can see how much of a prophet the writer succeeded at being.
In this case, Goulart's remnants of the USA have started a war w/ Mexico by annexing some of it - not such a far-fetched scenario. Mexico is simultaneously in the midst of a Civil War. It's not quite the same as having the Great Kleptocrat proposing wasting $11,000,000,000.00 of the taxpayer's money on building a wall to separate the USA from Mexico but it's close enuf in absurdity to be worth bringing up. The Great Kleptocrat & his Plunderbund aren't funny at all but Goular(t) certainly is:
"Two more of the large-size paramedic andies pushed through the door before he reached it. "We request, Dr. David F. Westchester, that you surrender yourself to us under the provisions of the Goofy Doctor Act."
""Who's goofy? Simply because I cut off a few wrong parts from a few spoilsport patients, does that make me a loony?"
""You're not authorized to cut off any parts," the android up on the ramp pointed out. "You're a rectal smear man pure and simple."
""Oh, sure," said Dr. Westchester. "That's a great job for a man with my training. I graduated from the Bible Truth Medical & Faithhealing College of Topeka, Kansas, Heartland Empire, at the head of my class. Now I must spend my days looking into people's poopoos. It's an ignoble and—"" - p 11
Shades of Dr. Benway. Wch, by the way, is the name of the last person you picked up on Tinder. Goular(t)'s future, our past, is full of intrusive dysfunctional technology every-wch-way-you-turn:
""You've just stepped," informed the next gutter-speaker, "into the footsteps of Rance Keane, noted gunfighter, who is by apt coincidence, now appearing—"
""This isn't Rance Keane's square. It says Butch the Wonder Dog."" - p 15
I'm reminded of the reminder messages I kept getting on my iJones about a non-existent event that's 'already happened'. Goular(t)'s future, our past, is a mess.. just like our present.. but different:
"A fragile blond man at the sofa end, after coughing, said, "We'll return to this stimulating debate on the moral validity of our position in this conflict with Mexico when 'Aspects of War' returns in three minutes."
"A naked girl, decorated with cosmetic polka dots and gold bangles, replaced the debaters on the screen. "How'd you like to spend a night with a hot ticket like me?" she inquired in a husky voice, "I bet I'm every man's idea of a terrific lay. Yet not so long ago I was merely another frustrated house-frau. Then I heard about the International Home Hooker School of—"" - p 28
What do you think she wd've sd before she was so-rudely-cut-off? 'the International Home Hooker School of Pancakes'?
Our hero, Rafe Santana, is a Mexican-American news-caster who's getting what seems to be a promotion by being sent to Mexico to cover(-up) the war. He gets some instructions:
"["']Minimize, while not totally ignoring, the Mexican claims that our motives in annexing are based on a desire for commercial gains and new territory to exploit. Emphasize, rather, the fact we are bringing a stability to the Mexican people, giving them a security which they haven't ever had under the fluctuating regimes of Mexico City.'" Less let the memo drop to the vibrabed, gazed up at the mirrored ceiling and then selected another piece of fax-paper. "This came in two days ago from the Secretary. Hum . . . '. . . nothing basically wrong with having a MexAm anchor on the War Desk. Indeed it may, subtly of course, serve to emphasize that the Mexican people do accept and comprehend what we are doing for them.' Isn't that nice?"
"Rafe's hands had tightened into fists. He cleared his throat. "I want this job," he said. "So read me everything Secretary McRaine has to say."" - p 33
The next passage was fun to read given that for the 1st time in my life my local water company had 100,000 or so of its customers boiling our water for 36 hrs or so b/c of water in a particular reservoir not passing inspection:
"The houseboat restaurant bobbed gently on the black water. The proprietor leaned close to Rafe to say, "I wouldn't order the seafood plate."
"Rafe said, "Not going to order anything until my friend arrives."
"The proprietor was a big wide man, dressed in a two-piece off-white evening suit. "They're dumping some kind of leftover chemical weapon stuff in the gulf," he explained in a low voice, glancing at the dozen or so other customers scattered around the softly swaying room. "The fish tastes okay, but for six or eight hours after you eat it you have an uncontrollable urge to tell the truth. I confide this in you, because in your business—"" - p 37
If only chemical weapons were that benign.
1st we had Ern Malley in poetry, now there's Fulmer Anderson. That strikes as an excellent pen-name for someone writing about the Adventures of Melania's Rump:
""You've probably never heard of me. My name is Fulmer Anderson."
""I haven't."
""My trouble, besides a publisher who's snarfing me, is I keep creating immortal characters. You do that and readers won't know you, they'll only know your immortal characters. I wager you can't tell me who wrote Sherlock Holmes, Tarzan or Fu Manchu."
""Conan Doyle, Edgar Rice Burroughs and Sax Rohmer. What immortal characters have you created?"
""Well, someone with a literary background such as you obviously have possibly doesn't read series books," said Fulmer Anderson. "I write the Masochist series and the Sadist series, and my latest series is about Mr. & Mrs. Lust."" - p 38
Obviously, Goular(t)'s prophetic abilities fell a bit short on this one. No 21st century newscaster wd be able to remember the names of those authors. Goular(t)'s dysfunctional future has just about everything automated, even the priests - so who does the child molesting? After all, the sports coaches are probably automated too.
"A robot priest, one of the old-style black cylinder types, was flat on his back beside the font. Apparently he'd slipped on the slick flooring and been unable to upright himself. He was sprawled there, wheels spinning futilely, muttering, "Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa."
""Let me help you, padre." Rafe stooped, got a hand under one of the robot priest's several arms.
""Bless you, my son," spoke the robot when he was back on his wheels. He made a lopsided sign of the cross with one of his arms. "Have you come to see the magnificent Church of St. Isaac? It is one of the finest completely mechanized churches of God in the entire Western world."" - p 46
There are apparently at least 6 saints named Isaac so Goular(t) might be making a joke here.. or a clue about the whereabouts of Little Billy. What I think of is an ex-roommate of mine who sd mea culpa all the time. It used to really get my goat.
In Goular(t)'s future, our past, androids even officiate at funerals. Do they go to work in an Uber taxi? Or do they just 'live' in the funeral home?
"In the shadowy, sweet-smelling hallway an android was waiting. He had a pink face, blond curly hair and wore a long white robe. "Gentlemen, allow me to convey my deepest sympathies. I am a Model 207XR Nondenominational Reverend. I'll be officiating at the brief but touching ceremony . . . um . . . I find myself with a slight problem." He motioned the nephew aside, led him into an alcove where a fountain was spewing multicolored water. "You're the relative of the deceased?"
""Yes. What—"
""I've officiated at over two thousand cremations since I was installed here at the Wee Forge in the Briars . . . uh . . . but, young fellow, this is the first time I've had to deliver a farewell sermon about anyone who died in a bordello. Frankly, I'm stumped. Perhaps if I tried a few—"" - p 91
See? Technology doesn't solve everything now, does it? Although a main thread running thru this tapestry of electronic wonder is a device called a "Gadget" invented by a man named "Crackpot". The illegal Gadget enables any of its users to remotely control other machines. It comes in very handy:
"you ordered the Low Budget $12,000 Funeral for your late uncle."
""It's sufficient I think, especially since—"
""The point is, sir, you haven't paid so much as a penny, not one cent. The credit number you provided turns out to be spurious, further—"
""Don't worry." From a coat pocket the young man produced a Gadget, much like the one he'd given his late uncle. "You're not going to make a frumus, are you? No, you're going to tell your computer it's all been paid for. The whole thing, including a small wake afterward for those old guys.
""Why, yes. Certainly. Was there some doubt?"" - p 92
Why, I'd give Melania's Rump to have one of those. Maybe I cd save Little Billy.. or, at least, get some truth in advertising:
"Above the eggshell-white halfdome huge throbbing light-signs announced AmericaMecca Market! Bringing the USA to the World! Junk Food! Gimcrack! Shoddy Appliances! Marked-Up & Unsafe Drugs! Hundreds of Other Worthless & Dangerous Items!" - p 94
Goular(t)'s a barrel of laughs going over New Mexxxico's Niagara Falls.
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