My own Poetry, Fiction, Non-Fiction, and occasional commentary on all of the above.
Throughout most of my twenties, I went through a few self-created "mid-life crises," unsure of what the hell I was doing and what I wanted to do next. The common thread running through that decade was avoidance. Avoid responsibility, avoid maturity, and avoid anything that might inadvertantly lead to either of those outcomes. "Act first, deal with the consequences later." My first "crisis" actually came at 19, a few months after I'd snuck out of my mother's house in the middle of the night, leaving my family and the Jehovah's Witnesses behind. Having been given three weeks notice of being…
It's been four days since my last confession, Blogger, but in a rare switcheroo, I was busy talking smack over on my little-used LiveJournal account, commenting on the debacle that was the 2004 National Poetry Slam. I won't get into it here other than to say, while I feel bad for those who attended and got screwed over in one way or another, you get what you pay for. If I were you, I'd think twice about renewing that PSI membership next year. Mind you, this is completely separate from my opinion on the concept of slam itself, which I…
By St. Cuthbert's beard, I signed up for the military to kill Orcs! Kobolds and half-orcs and the ignorant humans willing to deal with them were not what I'd expected. Never mind the undead! If I wasn't disappointed when they split Leoroar and I into different units, I certainly was when I fell beneath the claws of that damned skeleton. Two days after we'd arrived at Fort Greene, T'ohthin, grumpy old troll that he is, sent me and two others into the Blood Forest to deal with a "marauder" that was waylaying caravans leaving the Village Gar'tor, a small settlement…
SAMUEL FLETCHER Ought-Seven:UE (Unasian Era) By the age of thirty-seven, Samuel Fletcher had cheated death more times than he could recall, thanking Olidammara at every opportunity. Taken from his village and pressed into military service at 15 years old, he’d come of age during a violent and lawless time, spending his next fifteen years fighting in the Thousand Years War – first as a capable soldier defending the northern regions of Flatland, then an unprincipled spy for the highest bidder, as kingdoms fell and borders shifted and original disputes were long-forgotten. At 30 years old, the War finally ended when…
For Rich Villar I remember the new stuff. When it hit the mic raw and risky like homemade sushi more interested in the flavor than the presentation. We were too hungry for pretense. I remember the new stuff. When it burst from the heart like a ball of fire through an origami parade on a mission from god – prophecy overflowing from the mouths of babes. We were going to change the world but were tempted by it instead. I remember the new stuff. When writing was like breathing and everything was new and new was…
It was a year ago, almost to the day, that I went to St. Mark's Comics with Omar and got hooked on comic books again. "Hooked" in that crackhead sense, apparently, as after buying a legit box for them, I've realized the sense of control I thought I had over what, and how much, I was buying turned out to be a severe case of denial. For some reason, I thought the long boxes held 100 comics and was surprised when my nascent collection didn't fill it completely. So I counted...and realized I've bought over 200 comics in the past…
Between my internet connection at work being screwy all day and Blogspot.com seemingly on the blink, the post I started writing earlier was lost. It was about the difference between Batman and Superman and a comment director Wolfgang Petersen made about it. Petersen was apparently attached to a Batman vs. Superman movie that was scrapped in favor of separate movies. Can't say I'm disappointed. Petersen's also the director of the new movie, Troy, with Brad Pitt lamely delivering one of the corniest lines ever: "Immortality! It's yours. Take it!" No thanks, Brad. Between Gladiator and Return of the King, I…
