Neil Randall is delighted to announce that his new shortstory In the Addict Colony has just been published by U.S. literary journalBlood+Honey.

     The story waswritten in a whirlwind burst of activity towards the end of last year, and wasinspired by the criminal amount of misinformation, scaremongering, and conveyor belt of faceless naysaying drones who are continuallylecturing the public on what is good and what is bad for them – avoid alcohol,drugs, food, laughter, sex, fresh air, et cetera.

    Perhaps this wasbest illustrated during Randall’s recent sold-out reading at Belgrade YouthCentre. In a lively Q&A session after the author had read selected extractsfrom forthcoming novels The Professional Mourner and The Belgrade SchoolShootings, the general direction of the discussion turned towards personalchoices and freedom. In a scene reminiscent of Michael Douglas’ ‘Greed is Good’rant from Oscar-winning classic Wall Street, and cherry-picking fromJFK’s famous ‘Ask not what your country can do for you…’ speech, Randalllaunched into a blistering attack on social media, screen time, the homogenisationof culture, and the paralysing effect it’s having on the intellectualdevelopment of people of all ages.

      “Ask not whatyou can do for your body, but what your body can do for you…” he proclaimed.Shortly followed by: “Addictions are good. You just need to know how to controlthem.”

    In what wasdescribed by one local journalist as ‘rabid invective fusing the worst elementsof coprophagia and cynophobia, Randall talked at length about his own creativeprocess, likening it to Johnny Cash strolling into a dark forest with a fiercearsenal of potent hallucinogens, losing his mind for a few days, only to emergefrom the forest with a handful of soaring melodies and beautiful lyrics.

     “We all need toget away from ourselves from time to time. You should always go with yourinstincts, and do the things that get the most out of yourself, whether that’slocking yourself away, writing for months on end, running a marathon every day,devouring the greats of world literature, perfecting the yoga headstand,inserting small pieces of furniture up your arsehole, or cracking open a bottleof fine mezcal and drinking to the dregs in one sitting. Go let it in, go letit out.”

Here’s the opening scene from the story:

“It’s an unorthodox approach to addiction treatment,” saidthe Minister for the Interior. “I’m not sure anyone in our administrationunderstands your methods or the true purposes of your programme.”

     “Understanding isan overrated concept, Minister.” Professor Stojanovic came to a stop outsidethe first addiction booth on their tour of the facility. “For who canunderstand why an individual will consume so many intoxicants they suffer majororgan failure, why they gorge themselves on various foodstuffs, only to sticktheir fingers down their throat seconds later, nor why a young person laceratestheir forearms with a razor blade until they bleed so profusely they need to berushed to an emergency room. Understanding is not what we’re about at theaddict colony.”

     “But to givepatients access to the one thing that’s most damaging to them is tantamount tomedical heresy, surely!”

     “We only study,not treat, and certainly not cure or offer any kind of solution to theirproblems. Our firm belief is that when, and only when, the addict wants toleave their own personal addiction booths will their own personal treatment beover. Now, let us commence with our tour. Behold.”

      Stojanovicbeckoned the minister over to a high and wide rectangular window that looked inon a white-walled, cell-like space illumined by harsh overhead lighting. Allthe booth contained was a plank bed, table, chair, and television set. But itwas undoubtedly the sight of a painfully skinny, almost naked young woman (shewore only basic bra and panties), with bruises up and down her arms and legs,crouched on the tiled floor, bent over almost double, repeatedly forcing twofingers down her throat which caught his attention. Even more so when thestricken addict, eyes clouded with tears and phlegm dangling from her chin,finally succeeding in making herself sick.

     “This particularaddict – and we call them addicts here at the institute, not patients orclients – has just concluded a particularly epic eating binge. Four hours,twelve minutes, and forty-eight seconds to be precise. Bulky carb-rich mainmeals, red meat, junk food, chocolate desserts, a whole host of cookies andcandy bars. You see how violently she is vomiting now, the convulsions whichwrack her wasted body, how the regurgitated food is barely masticated.”

     Wincing, theminister had to look away. “But do you not intervene in a compassionate, if notmedical sense?”

     “No. Never. Weprovide for the addict’s specific needs. In this case, an extensive menu offood, and then record everything that happens in the booth afterwards. If youlook closely, you’ll see cameras positioned in each corner of the room.”

      “But this isbarbaric! Surely you review the addict’s medical notes, their case histories,and try –”

      “Only theaddict’s current behaviour interests us here. It’s our firm belief that we willnever succeed in understanding addictive, repetitive, compulsive, andultimately self-destructive behaviour unless we let each individual addictunder our care see their own personal journey through to the end. If weintervene – as the medical community has done since time immemorial – then wecan only ever offer temporary solutions and partial curatives. Six months later,the addict will resume their self-destructive activities. But if they’reallowed to continue on the addictive path, they might just be able to arresttheir behaviour and find longer-term solutions for themselves.”

      The ministerblew out some air and shook his head. “Well, I suppose that makes some kind ofsense. But I’m still far from convinced. Not just by your theorising, but thisfacility’s reason to exist.”

      “Then perhaps weshould move on to Addict #2. Please, Minister, come this way.”

If you want to read the story in full, head over to theBlood+Honey website.

And if you’re interested in Neil Randall’s published work,why not check out his amazon page.