Missive From ‘Merica: Rawr! What Is It Good For?

😀 Underdog Anthology 8 is now out and available to buy, Dear Reader…

…And if you ‘click’ on FREE PREVIEW, just above, you’ll be able to read my story, ‘BOGOF’ for free…

*Indeed the deal is pretty fuckin’ sweet, my lovely dolphin shaped assistant… /lights up…*

*Oh and Leggy posted one of his entries for free reading, Clicky… /drags… Excellent. That’s the sort of story you can’t stop thinking about. It does actually explain everything…*

*Aww, thanks, Clicky…/pats snout… When I chose ‘Tyger Tyger’ to mutilate for the Afterword, I had no idea what ‘orses were running in the today’s National… /streams smoke…*

…And now, Dear Reader, here is a missive from Cade. His stories in UA8 are particularly awesome reads…

Enjoy! ❤

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Heilig Glockenspiels Fledermauskumpel!!!

Deutschland is contemplating rearming themselves!!!

WITH NUKES!!!

^New nuclear weapons in Europe – The return of the Cold War? | DW Documentary^

Lemme know when your tits stop jiggling from the shock of that revelation, and we can then discuss the matter in a serious manner.

Deutschland is contemplating rearming themselves!!! WITH NUKES!!!

See what I did there?

I like the way you move baby.

rawr

But seriously, it seems the shoe is on the other foot. Has The USA already forgotten what lost the USSR the “Cold War” in the first place? Not that I personally think The Cold War ever ended, but it was said that we bankrupted them. Is us spending fucktons on weapons a smart thing to do? If The US and Europe has to endure another Cold War, it’s our own fucking fault. But can we endure another one? Is the US and a lot of the NATO nations prepared to lose this next Cold War? Are you ready to lead another Cold War? Are your citizens ready to fight another Cold War?

You reap what you sow?
^Exceptional Engineering – Harvesting Giants^

I’m not trying to stir your shit up. Seriously, for realz, I’m not. Just wondering what it is that we’d be fighting about. Before it was Democracy (Capitalism) vs. Communism (Socialism). But what is it now? Russia has an axe or two to grind. One, being beaten, and two being snubbed after being beaten. What do we in the West have? On what grounds do we stand? The fact that Russia may have an axe to grind? I would imagine they’d only be interested if we put them in that position.

 Digress

Lots of nations kinda lucked-out with WWII in that they were able to acquire all kinds of territories during the course of the war. But currently, we have no war. None where any real lands can be acquired in such a way that you can plant your flag, claim it as your own, and your citizens and/or allies will nod in agreement. So with that in mind, where in the fuck is this land that countries are wanting to make a grab for? Where could they be?

^The new battle for North Pole supremacy – VPRO documentary^

Yes…those are some extremely long documentaries. Yes, I am an unemployed loser who has nothing better to do than to sit around all day becoming educated and informed on things. No, I am not an authority on anything. I guess that makes me an authority on nothing. Heh…heh…heh. Wait, did I lose you there?

Q1: Without a nothing, how can a something be defined?

A1: ???

Q2: What is this razor that shaves this line from a nothing into a something?

A2: ¿¿¿

We in our Age tend to rely on the presence of certain things in order to determine was is/is not. The big one is certification(s) via established bodies.

Degrees

From Associate Degrees to Black Belts, we like to use particular foundries to temper the knowing from the non-knowing…the learned from the unlearned…the known from the unknown. Some kind of something to reflect a prowess or a deficiency in a certain area. The standard logic is that knowledge gives you smarts, and experience gives you wisdom. But what if one were to spend their life trying to avoid knowledge? And I’m talking about a person who has the ability to absorb and understand knowledge, but for whatever reason, they personally feel a need to stay away from it.

Lemme guess…a loser. A slacker. A chickenshit. A waste of space. Void. Ichabod.

^MC 900 Ft Jesus – Talking To The Spirits^

I realize that I prolly sound like Darth Vader above.

“If only you knew the power of the dark side.” – Darth Vader

Cept in my case, I seem to be espousing the power of dumb. Which I guess is also dark since everyone seems to equate knowledge with light for some odd reason. Welp, think of it like this, we in our time are hung up on causality and causal effects. We really don’t seem to give a flying fuck about what happened, and spend on our time on why a something happened. The key is, the time and timing. After. We care after. Why “before” has different motivators prior to than after. Chance. We’re willing to take chances. Play the odds. Hedge our bets via someone else’s game(s). Hide truth and truths, then roll the dice.

Me? I wanna know what’s going on in that dark.

^The Prodigy – Voodoo People (Eskimo Remix) (HQ)^

From the time I was quite young, it was drilled into me “to know God’s plan for me.” Problem is, that practical applications of this approach never seemed to work real well. The better I did, the worse off I seemed to be. I’d get to the top, only to find that this was not good enough.

WTF? 

I’m exactly where you said I should be, and yet this is not good enough? My reward is scowls and contempt?

Wait...one...fucking...second here

What if, “God’s Plan” for me personally, was for me to be “a little bit dirty, and a little bit clean”? I suck at being bad, and I suck at being good. What if I’m supposed to be good at being indifferent? I mean, to be completely honest, if “God” has a plan for me, doesn’t that mean that “Satan” or “Lucifer” or who the fuck ever has a plan for me too? I’m sick of walking the edge on these two fuckers’ sides. I’m sick of always being in peril no matter which side I choose.

I know…I’ll put a foot on each side, and see how that goes. Maybe I’ll better understand both of these dipshits, and that’ll help me better understand my own dipshitty self. That may make zero sense to you who are reading this, but it makes perfect sense to me.

But enough about me
^Todd Terje – Inspector Norse Best Live Version^

Space and spaces of all kinds is where war is headed. We gotta figure out how to do it here if we are going to figure out how to do it there. At ground level, above ground level, underground, under water, under water underground, macrowar, microwar, you name it…the current void and voids is where it will be. Gonna be smooth as fuck, and I personally cannot wait.

^DEMOU – Like Velvet^
!!! HAPPZY FRIZDAY FUCKERZ !!! 

Wrote that shit yesterday, and what was the very first fucking thing to appear in front of my fat fucking face on this fine Friday?

Paul Craig Roberts: Where Is The World Headed?

Some freaky female from a far afield felt the need to tweet that out, and it hit my eyeballs as soon as I opened Twitter this morning.

Coincidence?

“The fulminations and threats from Washington against Russia brought forth new Russian weapon systems for which the US has no match or defense, weapons that demote the US to a second-rate military power.”

What is this “fear of second”? Oh wait, we’re talking about war here.

Second = loser

But that’s not really what interests me. “The Russians” were ahead of The US in just about every way back during The Cold War, so as best I can tell at this point, is that this is prolly more about a race to Mars than it is about shooting wars. But there is The North Pole to consider. And of course Antarctica. Which speaking of, when I opened YouTube to start listening to music? Guess what was waiting for me there.

^What Buzz Saw In Antartica Frightened Him So Bad That He Tweeted These Words…^

What…Buzz…saw.

rofl

Buzzsaw. That’s funny. Not as funny as Ali G calling Buzz Aldrin “Buzz Lightyear” to his face, but funny.

Digress

Um, I admit that I’ve pondered Buzz Aldrin’s comments about “evil” for some time now. Seeing something you do not understand is likely going to immediately cause one to qualify it as “evil”. Especially if you are seeing some things that I’m assuming that he saw.

EX: If you are looking at a flower with the naked eye, and you suddenly start seeing the genetic makeup of that same flower from the beginning of time to the end of time, you are likely going to be confused as fuck as to what you are seeing. And I’m talking about every genetic mutation/variation that took place from the beginning of time, that led up to the creation of this particular flower, and every genetic mutation/variation that will take place from now until the end of time.

So yeah, you see the entirety of eternity through the window of this one flower, and you see it in a very short period of time. Like running a movie backwards and forwards at the same time, on fast forward both ways, and you see the entirety in the span of a few seconds.

Now, if you have some context, some of what you see may make sense. Like say, you’ve seen this particular movie before, you may be able to pick out some things that make sense, but overall, it’s a fucking mess. But what if you’ve never seen this movie before? Yeah, it’s likely that none of it will make sense. Especially if this is not an experiment that you personally have setup.

It’s something that…just happens…while you are looking at a flower. Or maybe looking at some something in Antarctica. Or looking for some something in Antarctica.

^Nine Inch Nails – Down In It lyrics^

I know…you prolly think it impossible for someone to see anything like what I just described. Even tho I just described it, and I personally see it, you still think it impossible.

Q: Are you possible?

A: ?¿?

I’mpossible too.

^Republica – Ready to Go (Official Video)^

If there is a God, you really think this fat-headed fuck wants to throw people into some place of eternal suffering forever? I mean yeah, they prolly wanna throw me into some place of eternal suffering for calling them a fat-headed fuck, but I’m talking about your average person. Just wondering, if God is wanting to damn them, why in the fuck are you trying to save them? More than that, why aren’t they trying to save themselves? Are you prepared for “the tough questions”? Or you just gonna shrug them off. What about the tough answers. You ready for those? Yeah, I dunno either.

I guess we'll see
^empirion – The Dark Inside me^

Maybe your own warlike state and warlike inclinations are what keeps you from this enlightenment you seek?

/me shrugs
^The Prodigy – Funky Shit (Live At Red Square, Moscow – Russia 1997)^

Does this list piss you off? Not complete enough? Too subjective? Too many omissions? Includes shit you don’t agree with? Wanna fight about it?

^Evolution of Electronic Music – 1955 to 2017 (V2)^

cYacFa

^The Avalanches – ‘Frontier Psychiatrist’^

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*No idea what you mean… /stubs butt… Could you fetch a Song to finish with, Clicky…*

Until next time, Dear Reader… Have a Song 😀

*Hmm… Underdog Anthologies are the perfect loo reads, Clicky…*

 

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Book Reading…

On Thursday last week, Dear Reader, I was booked to read one of my short stories at the Metal/Essex Writer’s House literary festival…

*I was so fucking nervous, Clicky… /lights up… I’d never done anything like that before…*

…Unfortunately, when I got there, the place was closed and my spot had been cancelled due to a leak in the ceiling…

*No, that was a leak in the sealing, Clicky… /drags… plus it ‘appened the day before…*

… But fortunately the open mic slot for Saturday had become available that morning, so I re-booked to return at the weekend…

*Good thing that creative writing class broke for food when they did… /smokes… It was nice to have an audience, Clicky. I hope I didn’t put them off their lunch…*

… Thank you for listening, Dear Reader, and have a Song…

Missive From ‘Merica: Doodlebugging

Dear Reader, the release of Underdog Anthology 8: Transgenre Dreams in imminent…

UA8 Cover

… At 230 pages it’s a bumper edition and, fingers crossed, will be available to purchase later this week. Butt for right now… Cade F.O.N. Apollyon, who has written two wonderful stories – one of which made me pee myself laughing; the other made me sob – and five lively poems for the latest anthology, has sent through a lovely missive. To tide us over 😉

Antediluvian Animals Ark.gif

*Know ‘er will be the next post, Clicky… /pats snout… Patience…*

*******

giphy

THE PROSECUTOR: Tries to get them in.

THE DEFENSE: Tries to get them out.

THE JUDGE: Tries to get them to where they need to be.

Is that right? Am I right on that? Notwithstanding corruptions of all kinds, is that the basis of a legal proceeding? It just occurs to me, that any competition is always a minimum of 1 v 2, not 1 v 1. Kinda 3  on 3, ‘cept, just 3, battling for 1.

So confusing
^MS MR – Hurricane (Official Video)^

What? You don’t get it? Well fuck me runnin’…you can’t have a contest without a rule set, rule sets, or some kind of governing body of some kind. Without that extra layer, there can be no contest, right? What happens if both competitors show up, all juiced up on steroids and blasted out of their minds on cocaine?

Yeah...the law...it wins.
^Bobby Fuller Four – I Fought The Law(1966)^

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Yeah, Brexit is on my mind since March 29th has come and gone. See, here in Texas, we have these things called Antlions. I included a pic at the beginning of this whatever.

Antlion

An ant or some other creature wanders by, they fall into the pit these Antlions construct, and the more the wayward creature struggles and tries to escape, the more the pit collapses in on itself…keeps the hapless fucker trapped. I mean, who the fuck would go to all that trouble of creating a capture infrastructure that also lets individuals come and go as they please?

^Hee Haw Where Are You Tonight^

giphy-2

Today I learned that April Fool’s pranks cannot be played after noon. I actually think I’ve heard that before, but I’ve never adhered to that rule because I’ve a weird clock. Seriously, if I work the evening shift, I may not see many of my friends until sometime after noon. How can I participate if there are all these conflicting rules? Not only that, but what does it say about the current structures of the modern workday(s)? Do the modern modalities and stipulations with respect to employment leave any room for the employee?

Or is that too much of a stretch for you?

Holidays, work, nah…not related in the slightest.

^Pixies :: No. 13 Baby :: Extended Version (not official) :: with lyrics^

Ever heard of something called HTA? In 1971, Esso had “three new fuels” with something called HTA in them. I guess some kind of additive to reduce engine hesitation via fuel performance.

Q: Is it possible to find out what products a company had available at a specific time, and if so, what those products contained and why?

A: ? ¿

I’d like to know what kinds of materials a pair of socks contained back in the 1970’s, but it would appear my quest is akin to finding a needle in a stack of needle-stacks.

Digress

Esso

Nope…no mention of “HTA” there. Let’s go straight to the source.

Esso

Hrm…it would seem that for North America, Esso only has retail locations in Canada now, so I’d imagine that any 1970’s products and their components would likely not be mentioned. But, let’s give it a whirl anyway.

Esso Canada

Nope. Went to the search function, searched for “HTA” (without quotes), and “no results found” was my reward. I know! Let’s us try this!

Exxon

FUCK! No mention of HTA there either. OK, so, let’s go the corporate route.

ExxonMobil

“Your search returned no results for HTA”

/me scratches head

OK…so…let’s just go to Google, and see if we can search for “what is HTA in gasoline”, and see what we can find via that.

High Temperature Accelerant Fires

Shit…just took a turn…for the surreal. But what’s this?

Improved Fuel Distribution-A New Role For Gasoline Additives

Le sigh

You can read the article for free, but you have to create an account to read the article.

^Esso (Exxon) Gasoline Commercial (1971)^

On my last gasps here, it appears that The EPA has a list of all registered gasoline additives.

List Of Registered Gasoline Additives

I guess “registered” is the key word. No “HTA” on that list either. But, there’s hope I guess…

Uneasy Rider: The Interstate Way Of Knowledge

To be honest, my Google searching has so fucking many HTA’s, and these HTA’s mean so goddamn many things, no telling what in the fuck HTA was…or is…or will be…

Dennis Klein’s Gas Engine Water Additive

But what’s this? Can it be? Have I finally hit…paydirt?

Encyclopedia of Chemical Processing and Design: Volume 2 – Additive to Alpha

Seems that some someone somewhere invented some something called “HTA”, and this some something is

“a mixture of nonpolymeric amines”

which are

“said to minimize wetting by gasoline of the intake system metal oxide layer.”

And so, we’ve possibly got our “HTA stuff” figured out, and what this HTA stuff does, but this is where shit really gets interesting, because the author goes on to possibly tell how it does it.

“Rather, small droplets are formed which tend better to be entrained in the air stream, thus reducing maldistribution due to a high inertia liquid film.”

OK, so, “polymer” is mentioned in a “nonpolymeric” context, and what immediately popped into my head was stringy, springy stretchy things, and “bubbles”. “Misting” of fuel(s) is usually required in order to get a particular fuel to burn the way you want it to. But gasoline is already quite unstable, so it’s usually a case of keeping it from burning until you want it to. Are they trying to keep the gasoline from creating bubbles/droplets and create “sheets” instead? There’s mention of film, and more than that, a high inertia liquid film. I wonder what that could mean?

Film – a thin skin or membrane

God does not play dice?

^Prodigy fans line the streets for Keith Flint funeral | ITV News^

giphy-3

Braintree? Keith Flint and Prodigy were from Braintree? Stephen King had a “Braintree Texas” in his book/movie The Stand.

Weird

Braintree is not a real town in Texas btw. Neither is Arnette. But there is an Arnett, TX.

Local time: Monday 11:33 AM

Weather: 49°F (9°C), Wind NE at 5 mph (8 km/h), 55% Humidity

That’s the weather for Arnett, TX on this fine Monday of April 1st.

How are you today?
^Primus – Too Many Puppies^

There was something in the news recently about churches and roller skating/roller skaters. I guess there were a couple of assholes brought swords to the party, one took the other’s sword away, and some motherfucker wound up getting cut because one of the swords was a shade more “swordy” than the other.

Hebrews 4:12?
^Chvrches – “Now is Not The Time”^

giphy-4
So back to the HTA crap, um…where were we?

Nonpolymeric
Polymeric
Polymer
Polymer

K, so, they are indeed trying to keep some stretchy and stringy things from forming, but what is this “ amines” crap?

Amines
Amine
Amine
Ammonia, eh?

Ammonia has been appearing on my radar a lot lately, but you don’t care about that, so let’s keep going with whatever in the fuck HTA is, how it works in gasoline, and why it was there in the first place.

Sheeting
What is Cascade’s sheeting action?
Wetting
Thin Film
Wafer (Electronics) (Redirected from Thick Film)

You think any concepts like these are applicable in…the spiritual realms? It’s just, I’m about to have to wander off into concepts like detonation, pre-ignition and all kinds of abnormal combustion that you prolly have no interest in.

It's sapping my will to read/type
^CHVRCHES – Lies^

Here’s the thing, earlier today, there was some more nonsense about “junk food” and it causing cancerous advertising or some such nonsense, and it really got me to thinking about my own relationships with sustenance. I don’t think some people realize what kind of razor blade I sometimes have to ride with respect to eating. Or maybe, they do, and they just want me to buy their junk food instead of someone else’s. Or maybe they couldn’t care less about me and my needs. That said, it has occurred to me from time to time that there are those that are well aware of some of the cancer dynamics, but ain’t saying nothing.

Like maybe, that there is a structural societal cancer build on top of disease that is so embedded, that removal of the disease is likely to be fatal to these systems that our societies function in and upon. Google is telling me that there are 18 million healthcare workers in the US alone, and there’s no real qualification as to what that means. Is someone who manufactures the sheets that go on the beds of an MRI machine considered “a healthcare worker”? Irrespective, I doubt very seriously that 60+ million healthcare workers worldwide are ready to be out of work. What does junk food and shaving have to do with Newtonian physics and HTA gasoline additives from the 1970’s?

I dunno yet. Working on it tho
^’Zdarlight’ DIGITALISM by Åbäke^

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Meh…this Brexit shit has me down.

I'm leaving
^White Magic^

halfenchantedchrysomelid-size_restricted

cYa | cFa

^Tangerine Dream – Love On A Real Train (State Azure Cover)^

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Roo B. Doo Chalkwell Hall

*I told you, the next post, Clicky… /sigh… Come on, we need a Song to end…*

Have a Song, Dear Reader ❤

Trans-Genie Dreamy

The wait is near over, Dear Reader, and I’m not talking about Brexit…

UA8

*/lights up… Hey! That’s not the cover, Clicky… /drags… Leggy’s still working on that…*

*/smokes…*

… With the window for submissions closing fast, Underdog Anthology 8 has so far attracted 10 authors with 18 short stories and 11 poems, not including my mutilated offering in the Afterword

*So far on the Dead Poets Page, I’ve managed to… /counts on fingers… stitch up Shakespeare, ravage Routhier, lacerate Lazarus, willingly torture Wells & Tormé, wanker Wheatley, pillage Poe and obliterate Oliphant… /flicks ASH… About time I butchered Blake don’t ya fink, Clicky… /smokes contentedly…*

So, Dear Reader, with a hat-tip to Dr Seuss – never mess with Seuss – the LoL is pleased to present my perverse verse for Underdog Anthology 8 from Leg Iron Books. Of course it’s about Brexit…

crouching tiger hidden dragon 1

The Creeps (that stole Brexit Brexit)

by Roo B. Doo

 

Brexit Brexit, MPs blight,

In the politics of Fright;

What immoral Hansard lie,

Could frame their shameful skimitry?

 

What the distant Creeps despise,

Disbelieving of their lies?

In Labour town & Tory shire,

People chose Leave as their desire?

 

And what bluster, for their part,

In twisting syntax off the chart?

And so the Creeps began to cheat,

Safe in smugness, if not in seat.

 

“What the horror? Why the pain?”

“The People didn’t know thy brain!”

“What the oldies failed to grasp,

It’s not long ’til their final gasp!”

 

When the Creeps threw down their sneers,

Made amendments, with loud jeers,

Did they smile their work to see?

Do they know they’ll have to flee?

 

Brexit Brexit, MPs blight,

In the politics of Fright;

What immoral Hansard lie,

Could frame their shameful skimitry?

crouching tiger hidden dragon 2

*/stubs butt… Those fuckers are gonna rue the day, Clicky…*

Until next time, Dear Reader… Have a Song…

Missive From ‘Merica: It’s a Sin. ‘K?

*The obvious choice, Clicky…*

I’ve not been hiding, Dear Reader. I am currently in the midst of writing a short story for Underdog Anthology 8, and it’s a struggle…

*Quite!*

…so I am really happy to be able to take a break, and present a brand new missive from Cade Fon Apollyon, the Okie Devil, for your delectation…

*Yeah, I don’t think living in Text US automatically makes him a cowboy, Clicky…*

Dude Cowboy Bowling

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ikkx4voxebdz

I need all of you to line up in a non-quiet and disorderly fashion.

I just wanna see what kind of line forms out of ordered chaos.

Yes…I’m ordering you…to be chaotic.

GO!!!

CHOP CHOP!!! I ain't got all day.
^Netsh – sleep.exe [ARTS037]^

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People sometimes talk as if fate is some kind of cakewalk. Just kick back, and it’ll come your way since it is preordained. The thing is, that you can typically only see synchs backwards.

A – You experience an odd coincidence.

B – As a result of the odd coincidence, you go left instead of right at the next intersection.

C – Godzilla attacks the video store you were headed to had you turned right instead of left, and everyone in the store dies.

D – You do not die, hence, the Universe signaled you at “A”, you listened, all is right with the world.

('cept for the dead people of course)

You are viewing all that shit backwards, not forwards. You had no idea any of that nonsense was going to happen, but it did, and you’ve got a marker to hang on to…

the synch. 

But you may want to consider that had you turned right and continued your jaunt to the video store, that’s no guarantee that you would have died, nor anyone else for that matter. Perhaps if you had turned right, Godzilla would have diverted his/her wrath on the vape shop instead of the video store. Maybe all this “synch” and “sync” nonsense is sometimes just a certain level of awareness at certain points in time. You are part of this crazy nonsense afterall. I’m sure The Universe is just as concerned about you as they are anyone else. With that in mind…

Q: Are you concerned about The Universe?

A: ¿?

Of course, when this “preordained” destiny of yours doesn’t come your way, or doesn’t come in the way that it was preordained, you are likely to take matters into your own hands and start chasing this destiny that was supposed to fall into your lap at some point.

Don’t sweat it tho.

     Prolly just a scheduling error.

Time and times can be funky sometimes.

^E-Z Rollers – Tough At The Top^

Cade: Yes, I know…there is a discrepancy.

X: And what would that discrepancy be?

Cade: You.

X: Me?

Cade: Well, no…I mean the participant.

T: Think you can clarify? You’re giving me a headache.

Cade: You, as in the participant in a “sync” experience as it happens.

Z: But you have to explain it to others, backwards. Is that what you are trying to say?

Cade: Yes. You experience it forwards, you reflect on it internally in a simultaneous forwards/backwards way…

0: But have to share the experience with others backwards, we get it. But why didn’t you just say that in the first place?

Cade: A job worth doing is worth doing right?

X: …

Cade: OK, so, I don’t like editing what I write.

X: And why would that be?

Cade: Because it leaves a bunch of shit out. Important shit.

X: The stumbling and bumbling…mistakes and the like.

Cade: Correct. It turns what could be a dialogue…

B: Into a one-way conversation. A statement. A speech. A diatribe.

Cade: A mother-fucking monologue.

X: And these, uh, “monologues” that you mention, they are bad?

Cade: They certainly seem apt to leave you standing alone.

0: And what exactly is wrong with being alone pray tell?

Cade: Nothing. If that’s where you want to be.

X: Where are we?

Cade: Here.

X: And where do we want to be?

Cade: Here.

X: And where is that?

Cade: Here.

X: That’s where you’ll always be.

Cade: I know that anyone reading this will unlikely pick up on the vibe that I’m feeling based on your thought/statement, but there’s a weird simultaneousness to the thought of “still being where I’ve been, as well as I’m already at where I’ve yet to be, all while I am where I am.”

X: Destiny.

Cade: Something like that.

0: Woah woah woah…what do you mean “something like that”?

Cade: The past is many times just as fuzzy as the future, and sometimes the present is fuzzier still.

Z: Care to elaborate?

Cade: Trying to explain something that has happened and/or is happening, to someone else who has no reference points, nor baselines except for what I tell them. Dunno about you, but that’s pretty fucking fuzzy to me.

Z: Any examples?

Cade: Now.

Z: If you’ll expand on that, I’ll listen.

Cade: Fair enough. I was thinking about JAL Flight 123, and the movie ‘Unbreakable’. However, while thinking about those examples, I decided that they were both impertinent.

Z: Impertinent in any all contexts and by all definitions?

Cade: Yes. They are both similar, not same.

Z: But those examples are both poignant and relatable, and based in both fact and fiction.

Cade: The fantastic. I shouldn’t have to use some fantastic or incredible anecdotal evidence completely unrelated to me in order to tell my own story.

Z: What if it helps?

Cade: What if it hurts?

Z: Touché. But where does the listener/reader come in?

Cade: I think that a lot of times, using “the distant” distances us even further.

Z: I could use a bit of expansion on that thought.

0: Join the club.

X: You are thinking both “god(s)” and “religion” there aren’t you.

Cade: Yes. You’ve got these secretive clicks that strive to keep their shit hidden. Participation seems to distance us even further.

X: Maybe that’s a construct that drives how The Universe keeps expanding. Ever think of that?

Cade: You coulda just said “get away from me”, but yes, I do think about that. I think about it all the time.

B: And is that why that line from Star Trek Beyond hit you so hard?

Cade: Yes. Chasing something that is forever out of reach.

B: Basically, chasing something that isn’t there.

Cade: The unreachable is just as much there as anything else.

T: Just, unreachable?

Cade: I can’t be what I am not. And, I’m pretty happy with who I am.

Z: Took you a while to get there tho.

Cade: So what? I’m here.

Z: Now what?

Cade: /me shrugs…dunno.

Z: …

Cade: Look, I’m not fond of editing my “as I go” bullshit because I feel that it creates a false impression.

Z: What type of impression are you trying to create?

Cade: That’s a good question. One I can’t really answer other than say that I stumbled around for decades trying to say all the right shit, and it never felt right.

Z: Once you start in one direction, forces work to keep you in that same direction.

Cade: Yes. No room for fuckups. No room for controversy. No room for anything other than this implied perfection that results from peer approval(s).

Z: You’re only as good as they say you are?

Cade: That’s how I fucked up in music. I shoulda just kept making my music, my way instead of judging everything I did based on whether or not people liked it/approved of it.

Z: Wasn’t that the point though? To make a living making music?

Cade: It shouldn’t have been. I enjoyed the hell out of making music, I had a “normal” job I loved, what more do you need?

Z: It didn’t happen that way tho, did it.

Cade: No. I was very unhappy in a lot of ways. The job I had was great, but didn’t pay well, I was working overtime all the time just to pay the bills, and the job was becoming unstable because of all the changes going on in the airline industry.

Z: Are you really going to sit here and rant on and on for another page or so?

Cade: Not here. Not in this fashion. Thanks for the heads-up.

Z: No problem.

Cade: …

^deadmau5 – Closer (Cover Art)^

recons_10pc2011

Do you have a detractor in your life?

‘There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death.’

– Proverbs 14:12

I just sometimes wonder… You’re sailing along, everything is great, everything you are doing seems exactly correct, you are bubbling with pride at being all great and awesome and stuff, then suddenly….

BLAM!!! 

The Universe broadsides the living fuck out of you with some crazy nonsense that you never saw coming, nor would you ever have seen coming. So my question to you is…

do you have a detractor in your life? 

Someone who reminds you what a complete fuckhead you can be when the cameras aren’t on, or the crowds have all gone home? That you are mortal. That you are fallible. Not suggesting that you need a lackey that does nothing but call you names and make fun of you, but someone that speaks their mind without fear of reprisal. More than that, someone that you listen to. Someone you don’t try and dominate. Someone that is neither disposable nor indispensable. Someone who is there because they choose to be, and someone that you want around because they want to be around. An equal, and potentially an equal that is far above you in many ways.

I'm lucky like that.
^Closer – Nine Inch Nails (with lyrics)^

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It’s weird the things that suddenly materialize in your life.

Things that you saw, you remember, but remember kinda wrong.

Then suddenly…what you were looking for but couldn’t find…appears outta nowhere.

There’s no doubt that this is the one.

Or maybe there is doubt.

Pretty sure this is the one tho.

^MIRROR: The King of Love is a Dead Man^

giphy

I recently had some fuck named Neil Gaiman wander into my life and crush the shit out of all my hopes and dreams. I’ve had some time to reflect on the powdered remains mixed with many a crocodile tear, and I guess it’s more of a fact that I’ve had to reevaluate a lot of things that I’m working on. So in effect, the guy has helped sharpen my focus.

THANKS DICKHEAD!!! 😛

Powdered dreams + crocodile tears makes for some good clay.

Here's hoping anyway.
^Kings of Leon – Closer (HQ)^

I’d read his book ‘Sandman’ a few years ago. Or at least, the first one. Anway, not long ago, Roob suggested a movie called ‘Stardust’ that is based on some book by Neil Gaiman. Watched the movie, and it was really good, but there were some themes in there that really crushed the shit out of me because they were similar in nature to some of the themes in some story ideas that I’ve had.

My stories are different, but the similarities of some of the things gave me pause. Flash forward a few weeks, and Roob suggests a series called ‘American Gods’ by this same dude, Neil Gaiman. Watched it, same deal. Lots of similar themes.

WTF?!?!? 

Gotta keep in mind that I’m new to writing, I’m smart enough to know that there’s only so much in the world to write about, and it’s a pretty goddamn big world. I can’t know it all. I only have my experiences, my stories, and that’s all I have/all I’ll ever have. So now, I’m right back to that phase of…

Q: Do I need to read everything ever written in order to come up with something unique and original?

A: No.

I’ve been through something similar with music. Just write your music, and it is what it is.

WHEW!!!

Thanks for the education Neil.

^Charlotte de Witte – Closer (Original Mix)^

tumblr_o8vchacffb1qjrwyno1_1280

So back on this sink/sync shit – who manufactures it/them? It’s your sink, you are going to use it, and what are sinks for? Washing up? HA!!! I KNEW IT!!! Yer FUCKED!!! You’re washed up.

Digress.

Sinks, as far as I know anyway, are for channeling/funneling water in and out of your home/business or whatever in an orderly and convenient fashion. It’s with that in mind, let’s us chase that/those water(s).

^Aphrodite superman jungle rmx^

There’s likely a lake or river or aquifer or some other combination of water tables that some group has connected to, and they’ve created an infrastructure of pipes and pumps and valves and monitoring systems to distribute these waters. These pipes and pumps pull and push these waters to a tap that is conveniently located near your personal proximity, and you can turn your tap(s) on and off at will to get the waters you need, when you need them. Also, there is a drainage system that allows these waters to flow on, and continue their journey after you’ve gotten what you need out of them.

Sewage/waste waters will flow away from you, where they’ll go to any number of various places via various methods, and various things will be done to these waters to possibly even return them to you at some later time. In effect, and even tho these waters are quite voluminous and expansive themselves, the bits in time that you get these waters are actually quite short in both duration and amount(s). You see/use/interact with them for only a short duration.

Filling a glass.

Rinsing a dish.
Washing your hands.

Taking a dump or peeing

Taking a bath of shower

Watering the yard or plants.

Blips on the radar screen. Odd when you think that it’s estimated that 2/3’s of our planet is said to be covered in water, and 90% of the world’s freshwater is said to be frozen in some really remote place at the South Pole. So with respect to “syncs” or synchronicities, are they any really different than what goes on in our sinks?

How much thought do you give to your water usage outside of the bill that comes due each month? Maybe this is why synchronicity is such a jarring concept. They are jarring when they happen, and they are equally jarring when they no longer happen. To relate, when the water is off because of some malfunction at the pumping station, or a broken water main, you fucking well know it eh? Your whole life is instantly turned upside down because when you turn the spigot, nothing happens. What you need…

just ain't there.
^Wicked Wicked Jungle Is Massive (Ali G Indahouse)^

Just thinking aloud that maybe being aware or being enlightened or whatever, is much more than strutting around with a mysterious and glowy Möbius strip/infinity symbol hovering above your head. The concept of ascension is great. But where’s the love for descent? How are you to handle adversity if you have an aversion to anything but up, and someone or something pulls that rug out from under you?

Meh fuckit...you'll figure it out.
^DJ Aphrodite – Acid to the sound^

9lnx

BTW, is that water in your sink order, or chaos?
^when the milk hits the cereal wrong^

giphy-downsized-large

Not trying to sway any opinions as to what is order/chaos, just interested in your thoughts on the subject. I mean, that bullshit above looks like complete chaos at some point right? Well, if you take a moment to consider the simulation that allowed for the ordering of that chaos in a structured and coherent fashion?

Um...not so chaotic at all, eh?
^DJ Zinc – Ska^

tenor

cYacFa

^Public Enemy Who Stole the Soul^

*******

*Actually, it’s pronounced more like ‘Guyman’, Clicky… /pats snout… Butt nice try…*

We hope you enjoyed that, Dear Reader. I’m now going to get back to my scribbling, but hope to be back later in the week with a new LoL post. Until then… Have a Song 😀

Holiday Reading

I am on holiday this week, Dear Reader…

holiday (n.)

1500s, earlier haliday (c. 1200), from Old English haligdæg “holy day, consecrated day, religious anniversary; Sabbath,” from halig “holy” (see holy) + dæg “day” (see day); in 14c. meaning both “religious festival” and “day of exemption from labor and recreation,” but pronunciation and sense diverged 16c. As an adjective mid-15c. Happy holidays is from mid-19c., in British English, with reference to summer vacation from school. As a Christmastime greeting, by 1937, American English, in Camel cigarette ads.

*Camel, Kamala is rather tenuous, Clicky… /lights up… At best… /drags… Although I did receive a book… /cough… er, in the post today from Legs…*

*/plumes smoke… No, that’s the first in Leggy’s delightfully demonic series, Clicky. It’s set during the English Civil War and the heroine is a witch called J…*

*No, Jessica. It’s in the title… /smokes contentedly… What kinda wussy name is ‘Jussie’ anyway? …/flicks ash…*

*Not SAMuel’s Girl either… /drags… butt nice catch on that Tweeter’s name… /blows smoke ring… I dunno, Clicky, what with all the Brexit and Trump bashing…/blows another… Mainstream media must take us for mugs…*

Normans House Stash

*Yes! …/final drag… A signed copy of Norman’s House, plus branded mug and magnets arrived today…*

*The Leg Iron Books fridge magnets will come in handy next month… /stubs butt… when I do that open mic reading, Clicky… /bites lip… I’m fucked if I know which of my stories I’m gonna read…*

Arsy Darcy

*It won’t be one of Mum’s stories… /squints… And thanks for the vote of confidence…*

…I’m going to spend my week away from work, at home, writing for the next Underdog Anthology – due out in Spring. I’m also going to be practicing reading aloud for an event. It’s a long story, Dear Reader, and I’ll tell you about it later. In the meantime, have a Song 😀

 

Story Time: Waste Not, Want Not

*What a good idea, Clicky… /pats snout…*

Happy Valentine’s Day, Dear Reader. I’ve no chocolates or flowers to give you, so please enjoy ‘Waste Not, Want Not’, one of my Halloween short stories from Underdog Anthology VI: The Gallows Stone

… And have a Song ❤

*******

Waste Not, Want Not
By Roo B. Doo

The dark October morning was filled with urgent lights – red ones, amber ones, blue ones that flashed – and urgent shouts, pounding footsteps and screams. Lance Parrish took in the chaotic scene around him in quiet disbelief, until he caught sight of the remains of his bicycle – his new Genesis Skyline bicycle – crushed beneath the filthy wheels of a gargantuan waste removal lorry.

He bunched his hands into fists and shook with rage. In all the years Lance had commuted to work by bicycle, he had witnessed plenty of traffic chaos, but none of it had ever directly involved him. Until today.

“Jesus Christ!”

He stalked round to the front of the vehicle and craned his neck up to catch sight of the driver, but the cab was empty. Desperate to see the face of the menace that had mangled his bike and nearly killed him, Lance scanned the faces of the gathering crowd, looking for an expression of guilt. “Where’s the driver?” he shouted hoarsely. “Which of you is the driver of this death trap?”

Nobody replied, the crowd’s rapt attention was firmly fixed on the activity around the front wheel of the truck. Several bystanders had their phones out, capturing the scene. Lance was torn between feeling contempt and gratitude toward the ghouls; he would need all the evidence he could get when he sued the waste company for all it was worth. “Do any of you know who the driver is?” he called out again.

And then Lance spotted him, or rather the logo of the waste company emblazoned on the back of a hi-viz jacket. The driver stood away from the crowd, yabbering into a mobile phone. He looked burly and mean – not the type to mess with – but Lance didn’t care. Filled with furious indignation, he strode over to front it out with the man. “Hey you! I want a word with you!”

“No, it’s-“  the driver spoke into his phone, rubbing his meaty hand across his furrowed brow, “-it’s not good.”

“Hey! Are you the driver of the truck?”

“Yeah. Emergency Services are here.”

Lance reached the driver. “I want to talk to you.”

The driver continued his conversation. “Of course. You’d better let the site know. I think I’m gonna be stuck here for some time.”

“You cretinous oaf. Don’t ignore me!” Lance bellowed in frustration.

“Yeah okay.” The driver smiled ruefully, “Okay, okay yeah. Will do. I’ll let you know. Bye.” He ended the call and started scrolling through the contact numbers of his phone.

“Excuse me!” Lance said pointedly but the driver continued to ignore him. “I’m the person you very nearly killed. You know, the one on the bike that you’ve utterly destroyed.”

The driver lifted the phone back up to his face. “Hello Kath? It’s me. Don’t worry, love, but I’ve been involved in an accident. Nah, nah I’m okay…”

Lance was incandescent with rage. Not only was the truck driver completely ignoring him, but he was calling people up to brag about coming through it all unscathed. Lance could scarcely believe the obtuseness of the man. Unless…“Oh my god!” Lance howled with righteous scorn. “I just bet you voted for Brexit!”

The driver turned and walked away toward the doorway of a nearby shop, continuing his telephone conversation, and leaving Lance in his wake. “A cyclist undertook me as I was turning left…”

Lance was gobsmacked to hear the lies pouring from the man’s lips. “What do you mean, I undertook you?” He followed after the driver, who was now slouched against the shop window, looking back out at the truck and the crowds. “You didn’t bloody well indicate, you moron! What’s your name? I’m going to have you for hazardous driving.”

“I didn’t see him, Kath.” The driver’s face seemed to suddenly crumple. “Believe me, there was nothing I could do.” The driver’s eyes brimmed over with tears. He sniffed back a wet sob. “Nah…”

Lance had heard quite enough and squared up to the brute. “Now look here. I insist you put the phone away and talk to me.”

“… he didn’t make it.” The driver’s chest heaved once before a stream of hot vomit landed where Lance was standing.

“Ugh! You’re disgusting!” Lance jumped back. “You’re a complete disgrace!”

“He didn’t hit you, you know,” a voice said from behind Lance. It had the timbre of a box of gravel.

“What?” Lance asked, furiously shaking his feet. “What do you mean he didn’t hit me?”

“Well yes, yes he did hit you. Earlier. But not just now, not with his breakfast. Look.”

Miraculously, Lance’s trainers were free of vomit. Not a splash of what looked like it had once been a full English fry-up, adorned either his shoes or legs.

“But that’s incredible.” Lance marvelled at the lack of spew on him. “Hey! Where are you going?” he called to the driver, who having wiped his mouth, lit a cigarette and was now walking quickly away. “Don’t run away from me now. I order you to stop!”

Lance started after the retreating driver but the voice from behind halted him in his tracks. “Lancelot Graham Parrish, let him go.”

Everything stopped. The driver, a cloud of cigarette smoke shrouding his head, froze in mid step. Traffic in the distance stood still and the noisy din of the hectic morning was suddenly replaced by cacophonous silence.

“Turn around and face me,” the gravelly voice entreated.

Lance didn’t move, standing agog at the morning’s turn of events. He didn’t know what the hell was happening but he was quite certain that he did not want to turn around.

NOW!” The voice commanded and then sighed, like a shifting sand dune. “If you would be so kind.”

With shuffling steps, Lance slowly inched around.  Everything appeared frozen in time. He could see the offensive waste removal lorry and the crowd held in suspended animation around it. There was no movement, no sound and no owner of the voice; Lance was perplexed.

“Down here.”

Lance lowered his gaze until they alighted on a black-robed figure that stood barely tall enough to make eye contact with his hips. “Who are you?”

“Who’d you think?” the robed figure said, producing a spinning scythe from thin air.

Lance jumped back, a reflexive action due to the sharp proximity of the flashing blade to his groin. “I thought you’d be taller.”

The scythe ceased spinning, the wicked blade pointed directly at Lance. “Did you just assume my height?” the robed figure asked coolly.

“No!” Lance blurted out, intensely aware of the crackle of electricity that coursed along the edge of the scythe blade. “You sound taller. Look, I’ve never been in a situation like this before. This is all very new to me…”

The robed figure watched on passively as Lance tried desperately to collect up the scattered rags of his thoughts.

“Am I dead?”

“Well, let’s see shall we?” The robed figure quickly turned and suddenly the world was animated once more. The crowd in front of the waste removal truck parted to reveal two men hauling a body out from beneath it. Lance heard the shrieks and groans of the onlookers, as the body being carried out broke in half, falling to the ground with sickening thumps. Several witnessing bystanders duly followed suit.

“So I’m dead?” Lance was slightly perturbed as his own lack of squeamishness. “I’m dead, so that makes you Death.”

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!” Death cackled good naturedly. “Welcome to the other side, Lance. May I call you Lance?”

“Sure,” Lance replied numbly. His attention returned to the antics of his so called ‘rescuers’, who were slipping about in his remains, even as they attempted to scoop them up from the road.

“Good, good. And your preferred personal pronouns are ‘he, him, his’?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Lance replied, tearing his gaze away from the scene of his death to look down at the small black robed figure of Death, who was unsheathing an electronic organiser from its leather case.

“Well, you look more like a ‘xe, xem, xyr’, but I don’t like to make assumptions.” Death switched on the organiser and started tapping on the keyboard. “Sorry, formalities. You are Lancelot Graham Parrish. Date of birth 29th February 1972. Date of death 31st October 2018…”

“Aren’t you meant to use an hourglass for that sort of thing?”

Death gave the electronic organiser a shake. “This is an upgrade.”

Lance bent down to get a better look at the gadget held in Death’s bony grasp. “But, but that’s a Psion!”

“So?”

“They’re so old fashioned.”

“And an hourglass isn’t?” Death paused for Lance to reply but was met by embarrassed silence. “Psionic, from Psi, 23rd letter of the Greek alphabet, pertaining to psyche. Spirit, soul, you know. You may think the portable tech of 2018 is all singing and dancing, but believe you me, it would be nothing without the introduction of these babies.”

“Psion organisers?” Lance asked incredulously.

“Psions were made specifically for use on this side.”

Lance shook his head in disbelief. “Then how come my father was able to buy one from Dixons in the High Street in 1984?”

Death visibly stiffened. “God knows. We don’t like to talk about it.” The electronic contraption disappeared back into the folds of Death’s robe. “Come on, Lance, we’ve got to move you on.”

Lance watched Death glide away in the same direction that his Brexit-voting killer had taken. He took one last look back at the scene of carnage where he’d met his grisly end, before following the tiny figure, robed in black. “So tell me, Death,” Lance asked, picking up the pace, “you said ‘God knows’. I take it then that there a god?”

Death stopped, nonchalantly spinning the scythe, waiting for Lance to catch up. “I don’t know. Why don’t we go and ask her?”

*******

*Come on, Clicky… /lights up… Let’s go and what Cade and Leggy are up to…*

Story Time: Caesar’s Were-Wife

Dear Reader, I thought I’d share with you my tale from Underdog Anthology VII…

uavii-cover2

*Fanks, Clicky… /pats snout… Be ready at the end with a Song…*

Enjoy!

*******

Caesar’s Were-Wife

by Roo B. Doo

Caroline Kempton-Truss closed the slim, pink folder in front of her, and placed it on the stack of coloured folders in her tray, ready for filing. Her desk was neatly spartan, like the rest of her office. She preferred to keep her surroundings like her thinking – lean, clean and tidy; everything in its right place. As the Local Authority’s newly appointed Director of Public Health, she fully intended to encourage her way of thinking throughout the workforce.

She gazed out of the picture window at the car park below. A steady stream of employees were leaving for the Christmas break already, tightly wrapped up against the bitter winds that swirled around the building regardless of the time of year. To Caroline they looked like ants – a slack army of fat ants that merely required whipping into shape. Now that the January health campaign was complete and ready to roll, she felt content to start their transformation.

There was a soft rap on the door behind her. Caroline returned to her desk and sat down, smoothing the crease in her tailored trousers as she crossed her legs. “Come in.”

Her secretary, Natalie, opened the office door and stepped inside. “Hi Caroline. I was wondering if I could possibly leave now. I have accrued sufficient overtime.”

Caroline looked at the slim, gold watch on her wrist. “It’s only two o’clock.”

“Yes, but it’s Christmas Eve,” Natalie spluttered nervously, “and the offices are closing early today at four anyway.” She hopped from foot to foot. “Plus it’s very quiet out there. It’s Christmas Eve.”

“Yes, I know it’s Christmas Eve,” Caroline snapped, immediately regretted her tone at Natalie’s flinch. Velvet glove, Caroline, she reminded herself, Velvet glove. “Of course. Yes of course you can leave early, Nat, but come and sit down first. I have a couple of things I need to talk to you about.”

Natalie closed the office door and sat down dutifully next to Caroline’s desk, hands tightly gripped in her lap. “Should I go fetch my pad and pen?”

“Good thinking, but not necessary,” Caroline replied, sliding open the bottom drawer of her desk. “This is for you. Merry Christmas,” she continued, handing over a cellophane wrapped basket filled with tubs and bottles, nestled in straw. “Smellies. They’re all natural and sustainably produced.”

Natalie sniffed the cellophane package gingerly. “Oh yes, I can tell,” she said, blushing, and placed the basket under her chair. “I’m sorry but I didn’t get you anything.”

“That’s okay.” Caroline leaned back in her desk chair and surveyed the secretary she’d inherited when she’d taken the job. Natalie was efficient, attentive and punctual; everything she could wish for in a PA. Her extensive knowledge of Local Authority protocol and procedures was a boon for Caroline’s ambitions. But Natalie was irredeemably flawed in Caroline’s eyes: she was a mess in need of fixing. “How old are you, Nat?”

Natalie raised her eyebrows at the bluntness of the question. “Oh.” She shifted in her seat, deciding to sit on her hands. “Um, well I’m going to be forty-five tomorrow.”

Now Caroline felt uncomfortable; she thought Natalie looked much older. “Tomorrow? Your birthday’s tomorrow?”

“Yes, that’s why my parents called me Natalie. Because I was born on Christmas Day.”

“Oh well, very many happy returns for tomorrow.” Caroline smiled broadly but thought, Forty-five? You look at least ten years older. Perfect. “Nat, I hope you don’t think me rude but you are exactly the type I’d like us to hit, and hit hard, with the ‘New You’ health campaign for January.”

“How do you mean?” Natalie asked, her eyes narrowing. “You want another secretary to look after you?”

“No, not at all,” Caroline exclaimed, realising her gaffe. She attempted to reign in the situation. “You’re brilliant, Nat. No, I was thinking more broadly about middle-aged women in general. You know, too busy working and maintaining families to have time to look after themselves properly. No time to cut out the vices that, they wrongly believe, help them to cope.”

“But I don’t drink or smoke,” Natalie replied cautiously, “and I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.”

“Ah but you do vape.” Caroline licked her lips. “I’ve seen you downstairs in the car park at lunchtimes. The vapour clouds those things make are hard to miss.”

Natalie cocked her head to one side and gnawed at her bottom lip. “But vaping helped me quit, Caroline. Without it, I’d still be smoking twenty a day.”

“And it’s commendable that you’ve quit smoking, it really is. Tobacco is the worst,” Caroline said emphatically. She herself had tried smoking once at college but the taste disgusted her, so she had no trouble in not taking it up. “But when you’ve gone through the pain and strife of kicking one disgusting vice, why replace it with another?”

Natalie shook her head. “I don’t think of vaping as disgusting. I find it relaxing and it’s much safer than smoking.”

“Ah but the jury is still out on its safety, Nat. When smoking first became popular, the long-term health problems it causes weren’t known. In fact smoking was promoted as a good thing. The same could be true of vaping. We just don’t know.” Caroline re-crossed her legs, again smoothing the crease of her trousers. It was a sound argument, regardless of her personal view of the practice.

Natalie continued gnawing her lip. “And it would only be for January?”

“Yes!” Caroline smacked her hand flat against the surface of her barren desk. “Exactly. For the ‘New You’ campaign. Think of it in terms of Caesar’s Wife.”

“Caesar’s wife?”

“Yes. It means to be seen to be above reproach. Look at it this way – how can we persuade the public to change their ways if we are not prepared to do it ourselves?”

Natalie’s lowered gaze flick up toward the office door. “I will think about it over Christmas.”

“Don’t think, Nat. Do!” Caroline chuckled. “‘Do for the New You’. It is the campaign’s strapline after all.”

“Okay,” Natalie murmured. “Is there anything else or can I go now?”

“Well,” Caroline mused, “You eat an awful lot of red meat. Bacon sandwiches at your desk for breakfast several times a week. I’m vegan, but fortunately I can tolerate the smell. Others though might find it too enticing – going vegetarian is one of the key planks of the ‘New You’ campaign.” Caroline could tell from the look on Natalie’s face that she was still sceptical but ploughed on regardless.  “It would really help others around you if the bacon butties could be knocked on the head for the month as well.”

Natalie stood up. “No, I mean is there anything else you need me to do before I can go home?”

“Oh sure, well just this filing, thanks.” Caroline grabbed the stack of folders from her tray and handed them over to Natalie. “And then you can go. As the Duty Officer until we close up at four,  I’ll be here for a couple of hours yet. There’s no rest for the wicked, eh?”

“No.” Natalie turned to leave. “Merry Christmas, Caroline.”

“You too. And have a very happy birthday, Nat. I look forward to seeing a ‘New You’ in the New Year.”

After Natalie had left, Caroline turned her attention back to the scene outside her window and contemplated how the conversation with Natalie had gone. True, she hadn’t got a firm commitment from her, but Caroline felt confident that it had gone pretty well, despite the shaky start. Every journey starts with a single step, she reassured herself smugly.

The sky was already starting to darken and the stream of departing employees had turned into a trickle. Soon I’ll be the only person left, Caroline thought and stifled a yawn. She decided that a brisk walk around the emptying building would liven her up. Stopping only to pick up her mobile phone, Caroline left her office.

Her stroll took her through several desolate floors of the building. She sighed and tutted at the desk clutter on display, safe in the knowledge that hardly anybody was still around to see her displeasure. Caroline passed bank after bank of desks that heaved with paperwork, tacky personal effects and garish Christmas decorations. The kitchenette areas on each of the floors told their own horror story. Sweet tins full of uneaten cakes and biscuits were piled high on counters, just waiting for staff to return after the break. The fridges were no better, packed as they were with plastic milk bottles, all at varying levels of emptiness, marked with each owner’s initials in thick, black ink. This whole place is infected, she thought disdainfully, I’ll have my work cut out for me here.

It was just past four o’clock by the time Caroline returned to the deserted Public Health department. With everybody else gone, the overhead lighting had switched off automatically, and the floor felt abandoned. Caroline shivered and wondered if the heating had also been turned off.  She walked smartly back to her office, glad that she could finally pack her things up to go home, but when she got there, it wasn’t empty.

“Nat?” Caroline stopped in the doorway and called to the shadowy figure, looking out of the window. “What are you doing standing in the dark. I thought you’d already left.”

“I had,” Natalie replied. She turned her head toward Caroline. “But I forgot to take my Christmas present, so I walked back.” She pointed at the cellophane basket still sitting under the chair next to the desk. “And I also have a gift for you.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Caroline chided with a smile. The flutter of concern Caroline had felt on spying a shadowy figure in her darkened office had dissipated to be replaced with warm glow of acceptance. She decide to push her luck. “You know, your active participation in the New Year campaign would be present enough.”

Natalie shrugged and turned her head back to view outside the window. “Look. The Moon is rising. It’s not quite full.”

Caroline joined Natalie at the window. “Oh yes.” Caroline smiled, “Thank God it’s not a full Moon. The last thing anyone needs on Christmas Eve is a werewolf on the rampage.”

“Yeah,” Natalie laughed softly. “It’s a fiction created by Hollywood, you know.”

“What is? The Moon or werewolves?”

“Oh the Moon is real, but so are werewolves. The first has no effect on the other though. Except in the movies.”

“Really? How do you know that?” Caroline checked her wristwatch; it was all very well chitchatting with staff but time was ticking on. She moved away to collect her handbag and coat.

Natalie didn’t move. “In Poland, where my grandparents came from, there is a long tradition of werewolves, and many legends. Practically the whole of eastern Europe has them. And none of them involve the cycles of the Moon as far as I can tell. Still, everyone believes it does.”

Caroline pulled on her coat and started buttoning it. “Have you made a study of it?” she asked distractedly.

“A little because of my birthday. According to Polish myth, werewolves are born on Christmas Day. It’s an affront to God or something.” Natalie turned to Caroline and grinned. “I’m not one, by the way,” she said, holding up her hands.

“That’s good to know,” Caroline said, belting up her coat and hoisting the strap of her handbag over her shoulder. “Well, I think it’s time we pushed off. Do you live very far from here? I can give you a lift.”

“Not far, but no.” Natalie retrieved the gift basket from under the chair and joined Caroline at the door. “I’m meeting my brother downstairs. Actually there’s something I wanted to ask you about.”

“Sure. Let’s walk and talk.” Caroline led the way through the darkened office to the brightly lit lift lobby. She pressed the button to call for a lift and smiled at Natalie. “What’s on your mind?”

Natalie watched the progress of the lift’s journey up from the ground floor on the electronic display above its doors. “It’s about what you said earlier and Caesar’s wife. Is that going to be in effect for all our health campaigns from now on, or just the ‘New You’ one?”

“Ideally, yes-” A whistling howl of racing wind filling the lift shaft interrupted Caroline’s reply. She grimaced at the noise. “Leading by example is so important, I think.” The lift arrived and she ushered Natalie to get in first. “At the very least I’d like us to be seen to be practicing what we preach.” She hit the button for the ground floor.

“Like a religion?” Natalie asked slowly, gnawing softly on her bottom lip.

“Well no, but in many ways, yes.” Caroline tittered at the analogy; she hadn’t thought of Public Health quite like that before, but now that she had, she rather liked it; she would use it in the future. “Our bodies are temples after all.”

They reached the ground floor and started toward the exit to the car park. Caroline’s elegant heels click-clacked on the polished stone floor as she crossed the Reception area. A lone security guard sat behind the counter, looking bored. “Merry Christmas,” she called to him as she passed.

Natalie stopped at the counter, placing the gift basket on it. “Hey Caroline!” she shouted at the retreating figure of her boss. “Caroline. Have you met my twin brother Gene?”

Caroline stopped and walked back to Natalie and the guard, who was prodding at the gift basket with his finger, nose wrinkled.

“I didn’t know your brother worked here, Nat,” she said, apprehensively. She’d barely paid the security guard any attention before, but now that she looked, she could see the resemblance between him and Natalie. He was darker and hairier than her, but they had the same eyes. “So it’s your birthday tomorrow as well? What time will you be finishing?”

“Tomorrow,” Gene replied sullenly.

“Oh well. Happy birthday for tomorrow anyway.” Caroline nodded and turned to leave. “To both of you. And have a lovely Christmas.” Pleasantries concluded, and with the exit in sight, all she wanted to do was leave.

“Caroline’s a vegan, Gene.” Natalie’s voice rung out clearly across reception. “She wants us to give up eating meat for the New Year.”

Caroline stopped in her tracks. “Now Natalie…” She turned and was enveloped in a cloud of steam.

“And vaping,” Natalie said drawing on her vape contraption and releasing another cloud of steam in Caroline’s direction. “She’s thinking of starting a religion.”

“What? Another one?” Gene sneered. “Is there a fucking seminary, churning out Public Health priests?”

Caroline held her breath and batted the vapour cloud away. She was lost for words and perplexed at the sudden change in her secretary; she’d never encountered such insubordination before. “You’re not allowed-”

“Not allowed?” Natalie roared, interrupting Caroline. “I’m not allowed to vape inside? Why not? There’s nobody else here.” She turned to her brother. “Is anybody else left in the building, Gene?”

Gene’s jaw jerked forwards several times, as if it was trying to leave his face. “No, sis. Just us,” he barked and gnashed his teeth. “They made sure they all left in good time,” he croaked.

“Now look here-” Caroline was interrupted again, this time by Gene falling off his chair, his body convulsing violently. “Oh my god! Is he okay? Natalie?!”

Natalie peered serenely over the reception counter. “Yeah, he’s fine. He’ll just be a second.” She turned her attention back to Caroline. “But you might not be,” she said coldly. “That’s up to you.”

Caroline’s mouth flapped silently. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing or hearing. The sound of tortured whines and yelps coming from behind the desk hurt her ears. The stretching, cracking and snapping noises were turning her legs to jelly. “I… I… I…”

“That’s right,” Natalie spat, “it’s all about you, isn’t it Caroline? You want to turn everybody into an replica image of you because you’re so wonderful.” She blew another cloud of vape in her boss’s direction. “Don’t think the rest of us here don’t know what you’re up to. The way you constantly judge us. We’ve seen it all before. And to be frank, we’re fucking tired of it.”

A maleficent howl reverberated around the empty reception lobby. Caroline’s bladder gave way, as did her legs, and she collapsed to the floor with a sodden thump. She sobbed in horror as the howling suddenly stopped, to be replace by a deeply sinister growl. What is happening? her mind whimpered.

Natalie crouched down next to the quaking Caroline. She put her arm around her back and held her upright. “It was funny you mentioning werewolves earlier. It must be your obsession with transformation that made you think of it. Time for your gift, I think.”

She lifted the shaking woman to her feet and walked her closer to the reception desk. Pulling up Caroline’s coat sleeve to reveal her trembling arm, Natalie gave three sharp whistles. A snarling maw appeared.

“I like you Caroline. I don’t want to have to kill you like all the rest,” Natalie cooed. “They’ll just install another knob, exactly like you, to try and change us.” She gave another whistle, low and long.

Caroline shrieked in pain and terror as Gene’s slavering jaws clamped around her arm. She felt a viscous pooling of blood and saliva on the desktop beneath her arm. She screamed again.

Natalie smacked Gene’s snout firmly and whistled again. Caroline’s arm fell limply from his jaws and he backed away, growling and licking his chops.

“That, Caroline, is your Christmas gift from me and the rest of your work colleagues,” Natalie whispered fiercely into her ear. “Transformation. You are going to be amazed at how different the ‘New You’ will be next month.”

*******

Have a Song, Dear Reader 😀

Stack The Deck…

*Tell me about it, Clicky… /lights up…*

Apols! for the lack of posting recently, Dear Reader. It’s been a busy couple of weeks writing and editing for the upcoming ‘Underdog Anthology VII: Christmas Lights… And Darks’…

*/drags… Yep, just waiting on final checks by the authors now, Clicky…*

Hopefully the book will be available to purchase before the end of the week. It’s well worth a read as it contains some absolutely cracking short stories. A perfect stocking filler…

*Not like that, Clicky… /blows…*

Perhaps it’s the general mood, but this time round I’ve had a go at writing a ‘dark’ tale for a change… as well giving a beloved Christmas carol a good kicking in the Afterword…

*Oh that’s way too upbeat, Clicky… /flicks ash…*

Currently in the UK, we’re watching the Brexit debacle unfold. The ‘DisMay’ Deal of Tessie Jackboots is being debated in Parliament, against the backdrop of ‘Project Fear’ projected throughout Mainstream Media. The upside is that it has made choosing this year’s offering for mutilation on the Dead Poets’ Page rather easy.

Musician Thomas Oliphant (born 1799, died 1873) provided the lyrics for the perennial favourite of carol singers everywhere. And as MPs prepare to vote on the future of the country, ‘Deck the Halls’ lends itself to ‘Stack the Deck’ rather neatly. Possibly too neatly… Judge for yourself.

Tweet a load of Brexit Bollocks

Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah, blah-blah-blah-blah

‘Twas the fault of voting Morlocks

Aargh-argh-argh-argh-argh, argh-argh-argh-argh

Back the PM in her deal

Baa-baa-baa, baa-baa-baa, baa-baa-baa

Troll with fear ’til it seems real

Bwah-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-HA!

Apparatchiks brag of d’Accord!

Ooh-la-la-la-la, Ooh-la-la-la

Strikes a deal to keep us shackled

Ja-ja-ja-ja-ja, ja-ja-Jawohl!

Says its one thing, means another

Lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie

Make the plebs embrace Big Brother

Bwah-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-HA!

Stack the deck with drones and toadies

Waah-waa-waa-waa-waa, waah-waa-waa-waa

Offer bribes of jobs and trophies

Fnah-ha-ha-ha-ha, Fnah-ha-Woo-ha!

Fingers in ears, deal together

La-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la

We’ll stay EU-bound forever

Bwah-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-HA!

Who knows how our milksop politicians will vote next week, Dear Reader. In the meantime… Have a Song 😉

*******

Friday 7th December 2018 – UPDATE!

Underdog Anthology VII is now available to buy, Dear Reader, for Kindle and as paperback via Amazon, and at Smashwords. This volume of the series also includes photos of the authors… 😀

 

Missive From ‘Merica: Editor!

Dear Reader, WordPress have changed the editing function here so that posts are now constructed more like…

*Yes, very blocky, Clicky. Not sure if I like it yet…*

… I asked Cade if he would send a missive for me to have a play with, and he has obliged…

*I know! How he managed to knock one out just like that… Amazing!*

*******

Just when I thought it impossible get any fatter, older and uglier, I get my new driver’s license in the mail.

Old? CHECK!

Fat? ABSOLUT!

Ugly? AL MÁXIMO!

I really don’t mind being ugly on the outside tho. I know, that what is on the inside, is much, MUCH, worse.

^Drumsound & Bassline Smith vs. Teddy Killerz – Metal & Blood^

So Limeys…how’s your week been? Anything going on? I’m not going to “pick up” where I left off on a blog post on my own blog last night, but I admit that I kinda danced around a few things as I tried to express some thoughts that I’ve had for a while about both BREXIT and The EU.

Almost everything about The EU revolves around commerce. Engaging in commerce, expanding commerce, protecting commerce…commerce, commerce, commerce. 

Almost sounds communistic.

Digress. Um, let’s go ahead and jump…

Q: In business, who can you trust?

A: No one.

K, so, with The UK in mind, I don’t give a shit who you are, they are always and forever going to protect themselves. Dunno about anyone else, but I find this a commendable trait to possess. And what I am thinking here, is that I don’t really see what The UK is doing as some kind of rebellious bandwagon for others to hop on board with, simply to oppose The EU. If anything, that would play right into The EU’s hand(s). Create the enemy they desire to have, and suddenly, you need an army to protect against this new threat. And I’m not directly accusing The UK of playing both sides of the fence because I personally am not one to sell The UK that short. Historically, if there is a side to play, GB is likely in the game. But at the same time, there are some other interests to consider.

European Space Agency
Bank of England
British Aerospace
BAE Systems
Airbus
BP
CERN
Nord Stream
SEAFISH
Maritime Affairs & Fisheries
EU Aquaculture
Aquaculture

Those are just a few of the bubbles that have been, and continue to be created.

no pun intended

^Friction – Commotion (ft. Jem Cooke)^

Imma go ahead and look up some shit on the developments of this week, which I’ve previously avoided, and let’s us see what all this business is about resignations.

Britain’s May vows to see Brexit through despite wave of resignations

OK…so…if I’m reading this right, there is a mutiny going down right in front of us, and the captain is refusing to step down/relinquish her command of the ship. Without making too many references to Captain Bligh or Captain Ahab, there is something commendable about May standing her ground. If there is indeed both internal and external shenanigans transpiring to settle some scores/achieve some gains, and there almost certainly is, May refusing to resign possibly could wind up being the one shining light in this whole mess.

I’m not suggesting that her methods are sound, but neither is jumping ship to save your own skin when there is still plenty of time and there are plenty of buckets available for bailing water. Just because you and your lover are going your separate ways, prolly doesn’t give you carte blanche to treat yourself and/or them like shit.

Ya’ll take care of yourselves and each other over there…k?

^Dan Caplen – Trouble (Calyx & TeeBee Remix)^

Someone mentioned this in conversation this week…

Unconformities

What’s that “gaia” shit in the URL? I know that I see “gaia” pop up quite a bit with respect to ascension and spiritual awakening and all that nonsense, but I never really associated it directly with geology. Let’s do some digging around and see if there is any kind of direct and/or implied connection between Gaia and geology.

X: Hold up there pal.

Cade: You are already well aware that I don’t want to do this here and now.

0: That’s likely why you should do it…here, and now.

Cade: I’ve never had someone specifically request a convo. Not sure how this is gonna turn out.

Z: Probably like the rest of them…a confusing bunch of nonsense that no one understands, up to and including the actual participants.

Cade: Speak for yourself. I understand them just fine.

T: You promised to qualify/quantify me in the last discussion.

Cade: I dunno about any promise being made, but I do recall it being mentioned.

T: You “recall it being mentioned” do you?

Cade: Maybe.

T: 🙂

Cade: I’ve never tried to put you in a box.

X: Trying to maybe make it easier for a reader to understand Thoth’s role?

Cade: Well, not just and only the reader. I myself have been quite lost in these things from the start.

Z: And that first “convo” was a doozie as I recall.

Cade: Indeed it was…lots of back and forth with very little actual dialogue.

T: Thought.

Cade: Eventually, it just kinda worked out that way. The thought of you sitting there alone for a long period of time, and nothing to do but sit and think? That’s a disturbing image to carry around with me.

T: You can relate?

Cade: In some ways, but not to your own personal experience.

T: All alone, with nothing but time to think about it.

Cade: Been there, done that.

T: Not out in space you haven’t.

Cade: Oh, you want to talk about that do you.

0: Let me step in here and save your bacon for you. You think that “T” is trying to get you to talk about some of your iterations?

Cade: That’s the feeling I got, but I’m still not sure how to do it.

X: How to talk about the iterations, you mean.

Cade: Correct.

Z: It made sense at the time, but not now, is that what you are trying to say?

Cade: Six singularities, seven reapers, two deaths, 4,948 iterations.

T: Wait, 4,948 iterations in the here and now?

Cade: Kinda, but no. Not active.

Z: All the way through?

Cade: That was the feeling I got.

0: That wasn’t the first feeling you got tho, right?

Cade: Correct. The first interpretation was 4,948 that kinda, “cascaded”, in the here and now based on need.

0: And it got ugly from there?

Cade: VERY ugly. One from every second of every day, all reliving that same second of that same day over and over again.

X: Millions.

Cade: Millions…indeed.

X: And where are you now?

Cade: 4,948 times, all the way through.

X: From the beginning to the end?

Cade: I still think it’s just an example to help me better relate to what it’s like to ride creation all the way from the start to the end.

A: Lots to see in there.

Cade: Indeed there is.

Z: Especially if you’ve ridden that ride 4,948 times. That’s a long time.

Cade: A very long time.

Z: It’s always the same?

Cade: The best that I can gather is that it’s never the same.

0: Are you sure that you aren’t just being hopeful there?

Cade: That’s a fair assessment, and I’ve certainly thought about it, so perhaps it’s best to say that it’s not always the same. I’m a single observer who is observing from a single perspective.

X: Lots to remember.

Cade: Whew…it’s mind-boggling sometimes.

X: Relief?

Cade: Methinks we all need some of that sometimes.

X: And you were “activated” because?

Cade: No clue /me shrugs

CX: …

Lemme go ahead and do some of that Gaia/geology digging now.

^Fox Stevenson – Bruises^

Oh...

Gaia

…there’s my answer right goddamn there. Which, why in the FUCK is Scorpio a water sign?

X: Probably because you piss me off.

T: You make me cry.

0: Water you want from me?

Z: I can’t follow that.

A: I can 😉

Cade: Oh, can, like, watering can?

B: You might wanna bail while you’ve still the option to do so.

C: Come sea me when you are ready.

Cade: Oy vey.

K, so Gaia is land/earth and/or mother earth. I guess I need to know shit like that.

Terra (Mythology)

I’m learning all kinds of neato stuff today.

X: You most likely should know things like that too since you tend refer to “Earth” as “Terra”.

Cade: Good call.

X: Work on it.

Cade: Acknowledged and understood.

X: /rolls eyes

I saw something today about something called…

Vantablack

That got me to thinking about light particles/photons being absorbed at higher rates, and that got me to really pondering some of the more finite ways of directing energy. Not to mention that the name itself kinda weirded me out because I’ve been to Vantaa, Finland before. Anyway, I got to thinking about at what point does the absorption of light, actually become the attraction of light and perhaps other particles as well. This got me to thinking about vortices, vacuums, and high/low pressure systems. Seeing as how I’ve been kicking around how some angular vectors of the curved variety maintain their curvature, let’s us do a quick peek and see if anyone else is doing some digging around self-sustaining types of forces.

Self-sustaining processes at all scalesin wall-bounded turbulent shear flows

I guess I’m not the only nutter on the block thinking about wacky and fucked-up shit like this.

^Dirtyphonics – Scorpion^

Speaking of conversation(s), I spent about 2.5 hours on Wednesday having lunch with my mother, and we covered some serious ground. I’m still not sure exactly what was said, but the conversation was stimulating on a lot of levels. Got the feeling that she was concerned for my soul, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but I sometimes get the feeling that others sometimes just poke me with a spiritual stick for no other reason that to see what I’ll do.

What I'll say. How I'll react. How my disposition is affected.

I love talking history and religion and politics and other pretty much meaningless crap, but when you start to shove spirituality into those things, yeah, I get a shade…dodgy…skittish…squeamish…I close down.

You aren’t telling me about your own spirituality, you’re trying to define mine. If you wanna know what I think or how I feel? Ask. Otherwise, I’m likely to just think you are telling me what you’ve found for yourself and how happy that has made you. It makes me happy too. I love it when people get all spiritually charged because they’ve had a breakthrough of some kind, and I really am happy for you.

Me? I think I’ll keep looking. She did appear kinda shocked that I was keeping up with the things I keep up with, and was equally surprised that I’m reading and studying about a lot of the things that I read and study about. Granted, we’re different people in that I personally am equally as comfortable operating in the fringes as I am the mainstream, and she is not.

^Muzzy & Koven & Feint – Worth The Lie [Monstercat Release]^

This is where this one is going to stop. RooBeeDoo informed me earlier today that WordPress appears to have made yet more changes to their editor. I asked if she wanted me to bang out a whatever, and she said that would be good, so here you go. Hope you enjoyed the ride. Love you all bunches.

Ya Rly...I do.

^Maduk & Dennis Pedersen – Miles Apart (ft. Ella Noël & Rino)^

cYa | cFa

^Polar Youth ft. Georgie Allen – All Night (Metrik Remix)^

*******

*It is a bit frustrating, Clicky, butt I’m sure we’ll get used to it…*

We hope you enjoyed this impromptu missive, Dear Reader, and for my take on Brexit, see hear… Have a Song 😉