Zeek and the Hoodies Read online



  Zeek and the Hoodies

  By Enn Kae

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  Copyright 2012 Enn Kae

  Images by thepixelworx, Indonesia

  The right of Enn Kae to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

  Find out more about upcoming books online at www.zeekworld.net or #zeek carnegie on twitter or add Ezekiel Zeek Carnege on facebook.

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  In loving memory of Mum and Dad, Who taught me everything about life.

  A special thanks to Johan. for your continued support and encouragement.

  PROLOGUE

  Many voices are being silenced in what we call a democracy - the UK - and, in this age of double-speak, notions of freedom and democracy are primarily being defined by the propensity to consume. Amidst the madness of globalization - an era that saw house prices soar whilst the gap between rich and poor reach Dickensian proportions - the populace have delved into apathy. We are distracted by entertainment so accessible to everyone that children now see forging a career in the entertainment industry after running the gauntlet of “talent” shows over anything that was traditionally deemed as a worthwhile endeavour - such as making a contribution to society. Given this, it's a startling fact that the UK ranked 28th for Literacy, Numeracy and Science worldwide - superceded by South Korea at the top (OECD Report, 2010). With the emerging new supereconomies, this trend may not be a temporary impairment as Britain's culture will have to undergo a major shift in consciousness in order to compete globally. In the meantime, the UK drinks itself into a stupor or gets high on cheap drugs whilst being watched by governments who operate without any regard for civil liberties or the interests of its people. It doesn't matter that we aren't producing anything innovative and that we're experiencing a real brain drain because we have X-Factor and Britain's “Got Talent". The question is - how will we reach any realisation over our apparent social decline when parents allow their children to wear Playboy merchandise and drive around with the Playboy logo on the back of their vehicles? The government will have us believe that we have progressed and we are better than other countries - alluding to our 'freedoms' - that we are 'civilized' whilst the scourge of gangs, stabbings, shootings, drugs, binge drinking, incest, peadophilia, pornography, rape, the sexualisation of children and teenage pregnancies afflict the land. As we stock up on our own social history, we point the finger at other nations and cultures and we really believe that we are doing 'okay' and that we are somehow better than 'them'. In certain parts of the UK, if you're not an avid drinker, you're deemed as an outsider. In other parts of the UK, if you are capable of any form of critical thinking you are labelled as 'weird' or, more commonly, 'mad.' In most parts of the UK, if you ask anyone about their opinion about the recent EU directives you will be met with the same apathy that would normally be reserved for the price of fish. They will revel in telling you about their apathy towards politicians but that's okay because they have X-Factor. Keep watching. They will revel in telling you who is to blame for England's problems, whilst telling you which member of their family or friend has recently left the UK for a better life abroad, followed by a succinct "I don't blame them!" Keep reading the newspapers. The cloud of hopelessness that now hangs over the UK doesn't seem to want to dissipate. Fuelled by the media and corrupt officials, England is at a point of no return -that is, unless something is done about it! We have already experienced strong opposition to this government experiment in the form of nationalism. The disturbing events in Norway in 2011 remind us that there is a strong voice of opposition towards governments that hold the wishes of its population with complete contempt. The demonisation of groups in the UK's media - most notably Muslims, 'Chavs' and 'Hoodies' - serves as an indicator that the pressure cooker is going to pop. They are easy scapegoats for a population that is so frustrated with its powerlessness that it needs someone 'other' to vent their anger at. The mess that has been created for us in the UK will have to be solved but not before certain questions are answered: Who will be the one to voice a concern without being discredited as 'right-wing' or 'mad'? Who will be able to rise to the challenges of leading a nation out of this cesspit into the glory of its own potential? Who will say 'enough is enough' and stand up to the forces that are leading it into its own decline? Who will refuse to accept England's spiritual and moral decline and fight for what they believe in? Who will hold the virtues of the Magna Carta and libertarianism and withstand the forces of totalitarianism? Ezekiel "Zeek" Carnegie was created as an antidote to the current climate of apathy, double-speak and totalitarianism and, perhaps, answer some of these questions. That we no longer have a society is self-evident but Society may be the only thing that saves us. Perhaps, I'm being too harsh in my judgement and perhaps you will identify the same problems in the part of the world in which you live. Lastly, I hope you enjoy the stories and you get something out of them.

  Enn Kae, 2012.

 

 

 

  EPILOGUE

  Here begins our hero's journey from Ezekiel to “Zeek” - a sojourn into a land of retribution, where England will be restored to the country that was once loved and was worth loving. After Zeek killed the hoodies that fateful night, Victor sent in his ‘cleaners.’ The hoodies were reported as missing but nobody cared. Their disappearance wasn’t newsworthy. Knowing that the nation wouldn’t be stirred into a storm over the disappearance of a gang of young people the media outlets didn’t carry the story. A little column in the local newspaper, perhaps, but nothing of any significance. As time went by and more and more hoodies disappeared off the streets of Gorton in Manchester, the neighbourhood breathed a sigh of relief. At long last, the anti-social behaviour that had blighted their estate had come to an end.

  Zeek moved into Victor's apartment - a penthouse suite in Manchester’s tallest building - where he could keep a bird’s eye view of the city that he would single - handedly clean up. He gleaned information of troubled hotspots around Manchester from the copious amounts of newspaper stories that he would read daily, with a maniacal fetish.

  Victor persuaded him to wear a mask. He created a jester's hat out of black socks and fashioned a mask out of clay. It was painted black with white circles drawn around the eyes and mouth. Zeek plotted to take hoodies off every corner of every estate in his beloved city. With no more hoodies to put down, he became bored and that intense feeling of isolation crept back in.

  He read up on the history of England, he visited museums and art galleries to take his mind off things. He began to feel something stir, something like an emotion. He told himself he was beginning to feel human again. He told himself he was getting better. He missed Rachel; he wanted to be with her. He often dreamt of her. Had she tried to get in touch? Had she sent him a letter at his house?

  He returned to his old house in Gorton to check. Nothing. The neighbourhood looked different to him - it was cleaner and quieter. Some of the boarded- up houses were now filled with families and the place echoed a feeling of safety. He thought about returning but he knew he couldn’t. He had a greater task ahead and, so, the months marched on with little regard for compassion and comfort. Zeek continued to kill with the same hunger for that of an emotion.

  Recurring dreams are like nightmares - they haunt you until you act upon them. Dreams also tell you your future and, if they are not chased, you will n
ever be at peace. Zeek can’t escape from his dream - a place, where there aren’t any hoodies, teenage mothers, immigrants, homosexuals or muslims. It’s a God-fearing place, the inhabitants rest on Sundays and shopping is not a religion. Everything has its place. Everyone knows their place.

  Waking up in a cold sweat, the glow of the TV shimmers against his glistening body. He looks out to the city before him and he catches the first light of the day. The city bathes in a new dawn, cleansing itself from the darkness of its past but not before sacrifices are made. So, a question remains... who is going to be next?