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These plays are extremely sad and pathetic/pitiable. The tones he strikes are so miserable. I hate "quoting" his titles, but in Richard McBeef (notice the McDonald's/Wendy's imagery, perhaps indicating low grade standardization) he so perfectly paints a portrait of hating himself for juvenile popular cliches that it is unavoidable to conclude that he may very well self destruct.

He also hits every sexual label in a short meaningless argument (bi-sexual, rapist, pedophile), and the "climax" of the piece is a long speech about how being a truck driver or preschool teacher is a horrific disgrace. Of course there's nothing wrong with either of those two professions, or with digging ditches for a living.

All in all it appears to reveal a sad kid who couldn't get into the popular imagery of his new country, twisted things around in an internal pressure cooker, until his own images took on their own "languages", then BOOM, he snapped.

Sad, I think I can see inside his head. This definitely didn't have to happen, but I don't see how individual mental explosions can ever be universally prevented from happening.

All in all it appears to reveal a sad kid who couldn't get into the popular imagery of his new country, twisted things around in an internal pressure cooker, until his own images took on their own "languages", then BOOM, he snapped.

In addition to having been stewed, perhaps, in anti-depression medication.