'I’m the Constitution, Dammit!'

Editor’s Note: This is the sixteenth in a series of interviews and story excerpts spotlighting some of the most innovative fiction writers at the recently-launched new media publishing platform Liberty Island. The first fifteen can be read in this collection here. Find out more about Liberty Island’s new writing contest here, running through the end of April. Please check out this interview Sarah Hoyt conducted with CEO Adam Bellow here to learn more: “It also has a unique mission: to serve as the platform and gathering-place for the new right-of-center counterculture.”

1. Who are some of your favorite writers, books, movies, and intellectual influences?

As a teenager in the ’80s, I was a huge fan of the Rocky and Rambo movies. At the time, though, I didn’t put much thought into how patriotic those movies were. To me, it was just fun watching the bad guys get beaten up or, even better, blown up. They may not have been overly intellectual, but they were certainly influential–I still love seeing bad guys get beaten up (or blown up).

2. How do you describe yourself ideologically?

Somewhere between really conservative and really, really conservative.

3. Which thinkers/commentators have influenced you?

When I was in college and working in a warehouse with a couple of friends, we always had the radio on. We started the day with Howard Stern and then would tune in to Bob Grant followed by Rush. I think Rush was just being syndicated at the time–I guess it was the early ’90s. I remember thinking how much sense he made, even though I thought I was a Democrat. After all, I was in college and declaring yourself a Democrat was just a given. The funny thing is, I’m actually a registered Democrat, although I have never voted for one… and never will. I guess I’m just too lazy to change my registration.

Beyond Rush, I imagine it’s the same as for many conservatives–Levin, Beck, Coulter, and the rest of the big names.

4. Where are you from/currently reside?

I was born, and still live on, Long Island.

5. What are your writing goals?

Let me break this up into short and long term goals. So far, I have written a grand total of one book. That makes a short term goal pretty easy to define–write another book. Longer term? Write more books. I’m kind of stuck with the same problem that a lot of aspiring writers have–a lot of ideas but not much time.

So, although I’m working on book number two, I’m not sure when it will be done. But I do know that there will be bad guys that get beaten up (or blown up). Oh, and in my books, the bad guys are Democrats.

The thing that inspired me to write Attack of the 50 Ft. Democrats was the lack of fiction that was really geared toward conservatives. I don’t mean conservative/libertarian leaning. I mean no-holds-barred, take-no-prisoners, make-no-apologies conservative. There’s a lot of non-fiction that fits that description, but it’s hard to find that kind of fiction.

6. Where can people find/follow you online?

www.twitter.com/rkdelka,

www.facebook.com/rkdelka,

www.rkdelka.com, and, of course,

www.libertyisland.com

7. What’s your craziest hobby/pastime/interest?

The truth is, there is nothing crazy, or even remotely interesting, for me to say here.

An excerpt from R.K. Delka’s “I’m the Constitution, Dammit!”

The Constitution slammed his empty shot glass on the mahogany counter. Stammered sputters gave way to slow slurred speech. “Gimme another, Joe. A double.”

“Hey, buddy, you been at it all night. How ’bout a breather?”

“Last I checked I’m still the law of this land, dammit.”

“All right, take it easy.” The bartender flipped the whiskey bottle and poured. “But I’m cutting you off after this.” He waited as the final amber drops dripped into the glass, and then he tossed the bottle into the trash.

The governing document lifted his drink. “People respected me, you know. Important people.”

He downed the booze in one swig and then twisted to glare at the table behind him where a rhino lapped from a large trough, splashing whatever it was filled with onto the floor.

“Forget him,” the bartender said. “You’re just going through a rough patch. A slump. You’re the Constitution, baby. You’ll bounce back.”

“That’s right. I’m the Constitution, dammit. I’m gonna bounce back. I’m gonna… I’m gonna…” He pushed himself off the stool and staggered. “I’m gonna… pee.”

He meandered to the dimly lit rear of the bar and began to relieve himself. “Camptown ladies sing this song, doo-da, doo-da. Camptown racetrack–”

“Not again,” Joe screamed, running to the back and pushing the Constitution toward the bathroom. “In there.” He called to the front, “Someone get a mop over here.”