The Jam: Much Too Vulgar
The Jam written by: Viggy Parr Hampton
I preface by saying: HOLY FROG-KING SCHUUUYT (censored for Lord Zon)!
[Feel free to decode the vocabs]
The story lives up to its shame. Hampton’s “Vulgar” is a masterclass. Maybe body horror, maybe sociopathy/psychopathy, maybe nature (the Jesuit, O’Meara?) vs nurture (the atrocious “Mother”), maybe pure evil. One thing’s for certain; those of us who have an inner dialogue and a low tolerance for stupidity, we’ve all had the same thoughts. There’s no “I would nevers,” nor is there any “don’t accuse me of that atrocity” buhl-chit (censored for Lord Zon). Freethinkers say this narrative in variations, inaudible, ALL. THE. TIME! Don’t try to imagine a world where you don’t. I do. You do. We all scream for we do’s.
TIME FOR ADULT SWIM: Let’s hit the high-dive! We begin with a cold (or hot) open and a natural blast of inner dialogue. The narrator: Keely “muth-argh-fungk-en” Rexroth (censored for Lord Zon). Can anyone say Patrick Bateman? Can anyone say Maeve Fly? Can anyone say Dark Anakin (pre-torch with the younglings)?
Rexroth is the one who should be paid attention to by those in her orbit, but appearance and lack of hygiene (maybe) holds her back, despite a 4.0 GPA and impeccable vocab skills. Seriously, this chick had me flipping pages in my handheld dictionary as quick as the wind could blow ‘em, AND dragged out the time it took me to read this unnerving, delightful jam.
The “body horror” accusation. Even though some lightweights might call it pure body horror, I dare you to watch “Contagion,” “Jaws” (the autopsy, and poor Robert Shaw’s Quint) or any episode of “The Walking Dead.” Read “Legion” and tell me you didn’t want the carp in the bathtub to die a miserable death. Med students routinely do labs on living and dead animals, learning universities that try to fix a condition, learn a condition, understand a condition or perfect surgical techniques. Even in the sacred halls of Jesuit Georgetown, real life, does this sh…yyyyyuht (censored for Lord Zon) take place. It’s real and an accepted practice among society, at least for now. The Big Murder Bill may change that, or Hoghead-RFK-TheSequel.
Rexroth wasn’t accepted in the Hughes summer lab program, passed over by amateurs with body images that likely attract prestigious donors. A Harvard rep showed up just in time to illustrate this point, that dumb bei…y-a-t…ch (censored for Lord Zon).
One part made me stop for the night, that poor rat and his “Puss-In-Boots” eyes pleading for its life. Got-dayim-nit it, Vig (censored for Lord Zon)! Break me, why don’t you? I have a puppy, you know!
Still, I couldn’t help myself. I woke the next morning and skipped brushing my teeth, skipped the bathroom freshening, just rolled over and picked that evil Kindle back up. Just 15 more pages and I’ll start my day. Just 10 more. 5 more. ETCETERA!
The interactions with Airhead and Erica were cathartic. Erica makes a brief cameo in the beginning and the middle before she gets sucked into a supporting MC role. Even though Erica was supposed to be the one with a “you had it coming” bullseye on her back, it was her interactions with Airhead I found most pleasing, a guilty pleasure that I may or may not have done myself. This is not an admission, nor should it be interpreted as such. Pya…ss off (censored for Lord Zon). Pleading the Fifth!
Long arc short, Rexroth was forced to do her experiments as an indie, just as Hampton was forced to publish this jam as an indie. Does art imitate life or life imitate art? No, Viggy is not Rexroth. She noted she’s more of an Erica in her closing statement and this is purely a work of fiction. But let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. Hampton is a trained epidemiologist and did go to Georgetown and Emory, making her uniquely qualified as one of a handful of people capable of creating this jam in her imagination.
A few standout scenes drew parallels to popular culture. She enters an antique shop and the old shopkeeper, presenting as a tired old man looking to supplement his swag in retirement, maybe, tried to push a board game sale on her and instead denied her something she wanted most. It played out similar to “The Neverending Story.” And the scene [REDACTED FOR SPOILERS] where she referred to fingers as “digits,” it reminded me of the only time I ever heard it, in the movie “Dutch” when Dutch (Ed O’Neill) tried to give little Doyle a freebie punch and showed him how to make a proper fist. Even Keely’s last name, Rexroth, conjures up Clive Barker’s “Rawhead Rex” (shivers).
Of course, the most common parallel drawn upon was obvious: “The Exorcist.”
“That’s much too vulgar a display of power.” ~ Pazuzu possessed Reagan, “The Exorcist.”
Although most comparable scenes and talked about scenes in the novel were coincidental and necessary due to the location (again, Georgetown and the Jesuits), there was no evidence of the supernatural present in this jam. Unless you consider the Madame who guessed her name right. But that was negligible and possibly coincidental. Let it die on the vine. This story reads like true crime fiction. Serial killers, not that Rexroth became one, routinely experimented on animals before making their national debut on cable/network news.
If I keep talking, I’m gonna spoil the book for all youse knuckheads who’ve not paid the measly $2.99 to buy it, making this the Cliff Notes version. I refuse to do that to Vig, so I’ll be making my closing arguments now.
Viggy Par Hampton will seriously unnerve you, but so did William Peter Blatty. So did Chuck Palahniuk. So did Charles Bukowski. To not read this isn’t a disservice to her, it’s a disservice to you. The jam has excellent syntax, minimalist style and at 300 pages (I’m guessing the word count at 76K with a margin of error at +2K/-5K) I was uniquely satisfied from Alpha to Omega. Her style flowed so well it made me read fast, then re-read for clarity. I got waaaay too much into the story and immersed myself for days, making sure I understood every paragraph, sentence and word. Some chapter rereads were necessary, mostly ‘cause her style forced my brain to choke itself at times. I haven’t had a reading experience like this since Chuck Palahniuk’s “Fight Club.” Wait, wait… “Maeve Fly” had the same effect on me, but that’s a different review for a different day, and you’ll wait your turn!
My review store is now closing. Please exit through the gift shop… and READ THIS GOT-DAYAM-NED (censored for Lord Zon) BOOK! You’ll be a shoo-in for he11, guaranteed!