Fiction

Andrez Bergen is an expat Aussie journalist/musician (from Melbourne) who's been ensconced in Tokyo these past 10 years. This extract from his debut novel, Tobacco-Stained Mountain Goat, is a sci-fi/noir/post-apocalyptic tones set in Melbourne, Australia as the last city in the world. Melbourne, after all, is his home town. But he's also heavily influenced by Japan, a country he's lived in for the past 10 years, and the novel also owes about 60% of its content to classic noir cinema. Enjoy!

THE ROOFTOP SUTRAS is a collection of strange and unusual tales set in the mythological 'Suburbia' of the mind, following various inhabitants as they attempt to stay awake amidst hypnotic routine of modern life.

Written into the vein of G.K. Chesterton, J.L. Borges, Franz Kafka and William Burroughs, Diatschenko has taken on a metaphysical subject in this mundane guise, and each story is a riddle within the fabric of his spell.

 Regard the bizarre parables of modern life contained within -- such as the man whose telephone follows him everywhere he goes, or the woman who becomes stuck in an infinite loop. Then there is the man who is summoned to court to justify his existence, and the band of gypsies who live on the rooftops of the city.

I.

staring into a big fire makes me remember things.  there's a lot of music in all the snap-crack and popping.  you never see the same shapes twice, that's for sure.

the heat from this fire is fantastic.  i'm way up the other side of the valley now, and i can still feel it.  i can still see it. it is, as i’ve said, fantastic.

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my parents met at the aquarius festival and fell in love and eventually bought this land that i am standing on now.

my parents gave themselves new names when they bought this place.  invented a ceremony, with candles and bush flowers.  there’s photos somewhere.

The future has arrived, but there's something distinctly wrong with it. Robots that were meant to abolish human labour are creating mass unemployment because political systems aren't evolving as fast as our technology. Virtual gaming economies are outstripping the GDP of some small nations, telecommunications breakthroughs have brought us porn on our video phones, and Flash-Mobs roam the urban jungles, manifesting the sublime and shaking consumers from their retail addictions.

Psyence Fiction is a collection of fourteen short stories by Rak Razam that capture the spirit of the decade and the psychedelic, hi-tech future we live in. Illustrated by some of Australia's best underground artists and photographers, the e-Book is a glimpse at the brave nu world around us and the bold characters that struggle to survive it.

:::Contents:::
10/ Surfing the Novelty Wave 15/ Fraud 22/ Leisure is Pleasure 28/ Play 35/ Under the Skin 42/ Ambient Head 48/ Telefuck 54/ Mantra 60/ WW3 is a Party 68/ Freedom 75/ Rainbow Dreaming 96/ Global Eyes 114/ Ravenarok 120/ Monkey Tales

Written by

'The Playing card Pyramid' is an excerpt from the forthcoming book 'The Rooftop Sutras' by Levin a. Diatschenko which will be launched during the 2010 NT Writers Festival as part of the 'Tales of the Undergrowth' event.

Click here for more information about this event.

I stirred and awoke to find myself seated on the couch. A glorious sun shone through everything, as if my surroundings were translucent.

The television was on and I was alone.

UNDERGROWTH is proud to preview an excerpt from the new novella META-DETECTIVE by regular contributor LEVIN A. DIATSCHENKO.author of The Man Who Never Sleeps, comes another surreal adventure that experiments with reality.

META-DETECTIVE is a new illustrated novella is a cross between pulp fiction detective classics and Greek mythology. 

Rajistan: The land of Princes and Professional hustlers.

In primary school I used to organise the school discos and it always made me feel important.  I would head a little committee of grade sixer’s and sevener’s and we’d pick a theme, like Underwater World or Space Jungle.  Then we’d break out the clag for a hefty cut and paste session old school style, photocopy the results and get Mrs Nash to send them home with the news letters.  The next few weeks would be very exciting, planning costumes and picking songs to play.  I remember trying really hard to keep my costume a secret and of course ended up telling my best friend Kelly, who then turned around a day or two later and announces in front of everybody that she’s going as a mermaid princess.  Bitch.  Some small time bitching would ensues and rival groups within the committee would form.  Closer to the date things would get very hectic indeed.  Big time sucking up and borderline bribing would occur so that maths time or group reading sessions could be used as valuable decoration preparation time.  I’d have a mass assembly line of kids doing arts and crafts, child labour laws be damned!  The younger less co-ordinated ones would be allocated the more low-skill level jobs, like cutting newspaper into strips for the paper mache coral or gluing sequins to plastic fish.  An approved group of senior artists would actually paint the fish and the coral and work on constructing the marine castle.  While I appreciated the help and needed the assistance a lot of the time I would end up doing it myself cause at least then it would be done properly with the care and attention such handiwork demands.  Occasionally annoying interfering boys would attempt to sabotage the operation and do things like steal the Giant Clam and use it as a football.    We would workshop ideas for party games. Pass the parcel was a staple, as was Pin the Tail on the Donkey - which always provided the opportunity for good natured ridicule.  Knights, Mounts and Cavaliers was always popular, probably because it gave you a good excuse to get physical with whatever boy you had a crush on at the time.  I used to love being thrown into different positions whenever the music stopped….  So the actual night would arrive and we’d all show up dressed as pirates, sharks (or mermaids.)  We would get the principal to line us up with a thumping sound system and some flashing lights and we’d get somebodies older brother to play the music and sure sometimes the disco would be slow to get going with all the girls on one side of the room and all the boys on the other side of the room, but as the hostess I would always try to break the ice and get the dance floor happening.  Somebody would always have a bitch about the music and I remember the shit hitting the fan once when some unsuspecting parent walked into NWA blaring over the speakers.  Classics such as Nut Bush City Limits were safe as the dance was non-threatening and simple enough for the boys to pick up.  So once we were all charged up on red cordial, chocolate crackles and homemade fudge the party would definitely start cranking.  A lot of action always happened outside what with general running around like silly buggers, and perhaps the odd romantic interlude behind the water tank which had to be conducted with the upmost caution to evade the night patrolling teacher. 

The Oracle Vignettes

Demon terrorists, drug warriors, robot butterflies, virtual reality brainwashing, alien television and memetic drugs. All debris of an unfinished novel; The Oracle' is a collection of short science fiction poems written and designed by Tim Parish.