http://voxproletariat.wordpress.com/
The above link is Casey. If you're too stupid, bored or lazy, click the link over on the right column, "Anthologies of Awesome". At first, his blog appears to be a maze of half fictionalized biographical sketches, riddled with pretentious inside jokes, didactic jargor and pedantic lecturing.
There is no need to continue the above thought. You either understand.
There is no 'or' in the above statement.
So, why do I like Casey's blog? Because you won't. And I don't like you. There. I said it. I don't like you. Neither does Casey.
http://denver.craigslist.org/m4w/656016935.html
Funny. Read it. Respond. Ladies, you want this man and he's going fast. There's only a limited supply of Casey to go around.
I'm sorry to the rest of you, but you just didn't measure up, whoever you are. To quote a friend recalling a conversation which quotes another friend:
"You are an improvident lackwit," a friend said.
"What does improvident mean?" she asked.
"God missed," he said.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Global Warming: Hoax or Stupidity
I've heard many a silly head bemoaning the terrible terrible fate awaiting us due to or lack of environmental controls. Oh, dash! Oh, damn! It's going to get too hot!!!
Shut up.
No it's not.
There is no such thing as too hot.
Let's be logical, not sentimental or stupid. Even if the 'ahhh! greenhouse gas ahhhh!' level gets to 4 times what it is today, it won't be nearly enough to kill life on this planet. The dinosaurs lived in just such a world and they were pea brained reptiles.
Let's go over this nice and slow.
The 'environmentalists' claim that we will hit this level within the next one hundred years. They also claim we will run out of fossil fuels in the next fifty. They also claim we've already passed the halfway point of oil consumption, meaning we've already used up half of the oil on the planet. They also claim that demand for oil is growing.
Okay... so, if all the fossil fuel runs out and we've already used half of it, and if we still need to add FOUR TIMES as much greenhouse gas to the atmosphere as we already have....
Gee, my math sucks, but it sure seems like we'll run out of fuel before we kill the planet.
That is, unless we switch to ethanol an biofuels, which are unlimited, in which case, yes we might make it to a greenhouse earth wich the dinosaurs easily survived until an asteroid hit them.
So, the only way we get to the nightmare scenario is by using these alt fuels that environmentalists have recommended. Talk about ensuring their own jobs!
Look, I don't even like the environment or people for that matter, and even I can see that we're clearly not trying hard enough to kill ourselves off unless we 'go green'. It's like a secret code. Go Greenhouse, Go!
Environmentalists... self serving, self deluded, self saving bastards. If they really wanted to save the environment they'd LET humans kill themselves so that the environment and all the special little animals could get back to doing absolutely nothing until the next sentient race comes along.
Oh, and by the way, dolphins practice rape, kidnap and murder. Look it up, you fucking rainbow idiots.
Shut up.
No it's not.
There is no such thing as too hot.
Let's be logical, not sentimental or stupid. Even if the 'ahhh! greenhouse gas ahhhh!' level gets to 4 times what it is today, it won't be nearly enough to kill life on this planet. The dinosaurs lived in just such a world and they were pea brained reptiles.
Let's go over this nice and slow.
The 'environmentalists' claim that we will hit this level within the next one hundred years. They also claim we will run out of fossil fuels in the next fifty. They also claim we've already passed the halfway point of oil consumption, meaning we've already used up half of the oil on the planet. They also claim that demand for oil is growing.
Okay... so, if all the fossil fuel runs out and we've already used half of it, and if we still need to add FOUR TIMES as much greenhouse gas to the atmosphere as we already have....
Gee, my math sucks, but it sure seems like we'll run out of fuel before we kill the planet.
That is, unless we switch to ethanol an biofuels, which are unlimited, in which case, yes we might make it to a greenhouse earth wich the dinosaurs easily survived until an asteroid hit them.
So, the only way we get to the nightmare scenario is by using these alt fuels that environmentalists have recommended. Talk about ensuring their own jobs!
Look, I don't even like the environment or people for that matter, and even I can see that we're clearly not trying hard enough to kill ourselves off unless we 'go green'. It's like a secret code. Go Greenhouse, Go!
Environmentalists... self serving, self deluded, self saving bastards. If they really wanted to save the environment they'd LET humans kill themselves so that the environment and all the special little animals could get back to doing absolutely nothing until the next sentient race comes along.
Oh, and by the way, dolphins practice rape, kidnap and murder. Look it up, you fucking rainbow idiots.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Hockey
My appologies to my UK readers, who only know football (aka soccer), but I needed to share my recent discoveries with my American and Canadian citizens. Canada is technichally just America's Attic. We go up there every once in a while to look for something we need, but usually come back disappointed. Usually.
I found Hockey!
No, this is not a piece on Boston's 4th best girl, the Bruins. It's just about pure Hockey.
Some of you will now need to be told that Hockey is a sport played on the ice in which skaters with stick hit one of my aunt's hamburgers around a frozen lake in an attempt to send this 'puck' into the goal.
Or, so I was told.
I noticed a few things during my 5 day investigation. There is something behind Hockey that has nothing to do with sport. Hockey is code for a secret society, "The Pucks". That's what I've dubbed them at this point. Puck was, or is, a trickster god from ages past. The Fraternal and International Brotherhood of Hockey, The Pucks, use this supposed sport to send messages, hold meetings, and generally, have a laugh on all of us.
The proof:
1. When two people who 'follow' Hockey meet (notice Hockey fans 'FOLLOW' Hockey), they speak a subtle proto-language filled with 'hat tricks', 'one timers', 'deeks', 'naturals', and 'points'. Notice, that this last phrase, 'points', is never completely explained to any innitiate or outside, but they all know what it means. Like seeding and goal differential in football Europa.
2. This can't be a real sport. The goas is the size of a large suitcase, the puck flies faster that the eye can register, and really big men chase it around on ice. This is their intricate metaphor for the absurdity of life.
3. Followers of Hockey will only talk about Hockey. And they'll talk to anyone about it as if all of this stuff was common knowledge. For instance, some guy at a bar tried to seduce me into the mysteries of his cult by saying the following: "Eh, Bergeron needs to be in the second shift when they change lines a man down." WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN????? Hey Scully. Take a look at this!
4. Hockey = Hokey. Etymology of the word clearly shows that this 'sport' is a sentimental hoax used to keep people's eyes on games with more pizzaz, like baseball, basketball and AMERICAN footbal. Don't freak out just yet.
Who are they covering for?
European Football, aka Soccer. Really, it goes as far back as the ancient Egyptians. The Heiroglyphs show soccer and hockey all over the place. The Mayans used to play a version of soccer where the winners and the losers and all of the spectators were killed in the name of their Horse God, Poser.
Now. Now I've got you, you little alien fuckers! Let's see what happens to me after they read this!
I found Hockey!
No, this is not a piece on Boston's 4th best girl, the Bruins. It's just about pure Hockey.
Some of you will now need to be told that Hockey is a sport played on the ice in which skaters with stick hit one of my aunt's hamburgers around a frozen lake in an attempt to send this 'puck' into the goal.
Or, so I was told.
I noticed a few things during my 5 day investigation. There is something behind Hockey that has nothing to do with sport. Hockey is code for a secret society, "The Pucks". That's what I've dubbed them at this point. Puck was, or is, a trickster god from ages past. The Fraternal and International Brotherhood of Hockey, The Pucks, use this supposed sport to send messages, hold meetings, and generally, have a laugh on all of us.
The proof:
1. When two people who 'follow' Hockey meet (notice Hockey fans 'FOLLOW' Hockey), they speak a subtle proto-language filled with 'hat tricks', 'one timers', 'deeks', 'naturals', and 'points'. Notice, that this last phrase, 'points', is never completely explained to any innitiate or outside, but they all know what it means. Like seeding and goal differential in football Europa.
2. This can't be a real sport. The goas is the size of a large suitcase, the puck flies faster that the eye can register, and really big men chase it around on ice. This is their intricate metaphor for the absurdity of life.
3. Followers of Hockey will only talk about Hockey. And they'll talk to anyone about it as if all of this stuff was common knowledge. For instance, some guy at a bar tried to seduce me into the mysteries of his cult by saying the following: "Eh, Bergeron needs to be in the second shift when they change lines a man down." WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN????? Hey Scully. Take a look at this!
4. Hockey = Hokey. Etymology of the word clearly shows that this 'sport' is a sentimental hoax used to keep people's eyes on games with more pizzaz, like baseball, basketball and AMERICAN footbal. Don't freak out just yet.
Who are they covering for?
European Football, aka Soccer. Really, it goes as far back as the ancient Egyptians. The Heiroglyphs show soccer and hockey all over the place. The Mayans used to play a version of soccer where the winners and the losers and all of the spectators were killed in the name of their Horse God, Poser.
Now. Now I've got you, you little alien fuckers! Let's see what happens to me after they read this!
Friday, April 18, 2008
Politicians: Paid Liars or Fuckbags?
Just let me know when you people finally figure out when someone is pandering to you. Hillary and Obama are courting CATHOLICS? Whoa! A couple of WASPs snuggling with their arch enemies for votes!
You read that right. Obama is a WASP. He thinks people from pensylvania are Hillbillies and that he need to distance himself from his hell fire preacher friend because the message was too black, too strong. One more whitewash and Obama will look like Gilligan.
And Hillary... when did she become a woman? Her sanity tank is almost empty. I feel bad for the ?woman?. Why would she even want the job? It's just going to go bad for her either way. Even if she... he?... was sane enough or qualified enough, WHY? No. No Hillary. Stay in the Senate please.
And even McCain. False teeth. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Over 90 years of age. Johnny, you should have stayed where you were.
Why? Because to be the President of this country you must become the Chief Liar and Talking Head of the Elitist Pigs of America. No, most Americans aren't stupid, or pigs, etc. Just those who are currently involved in politics and voting.
I vote with my fucking fists and my wallet. Do you see how cool that sounds?
This is why you should vote for Murk and Malach. WE will lie FOR you, vote for you, go to war for you, raise taxes for bunnies for you... anything you want!!! ANYthing. Look. We're the perfect candidate for you.
1. Malach is a goose-voiced crybaby liberal crap sandwich who thinks he's black and used to be a man just like the Hillary Obamas.
2. I am an old geezer with mental illness who tries to play both sides of the fence while supporting a system that just plain doesn't work! I am more McCain than Man now.
Malach will don shoe polish and a tacky Channel skirt suit and give your money to drunks, drug addicts, criminals and the mentally ill.
I will take the money from malach because I used to be a drunk, drug addict, once stole a candy bar and I am HIGHLY medicated for my various mental problems. That and I have a tiny Republican pecker. (not my own, I cut off Angry Piper's)
So please, vote for the real liars and criminals. Murk and Malach in '06... oh, '08!
You read that right. Obama is a WASP. He thinks people from pensylvania are Hillbillies and that he need to distance himself from his hell fire preacher friend because the message was too black, too strong. One more whitewash and Obama will look like Gilligan.
And Hillary... when did she become a woman? Her sanity tank is almost empty. I feel bad for the ?woman?. Why would she even want the job? It's just going to go bad for her either way. Even if she... he?... was sane enough or qualified enough, WHY? No. No Hillary. Stay in the Senate please.
And even McCain. False teeth. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Over 90 years of age. Johnny, you should have stayed where you were.
Why? Because to be the President of this country you must become the Chief Liar and Talking Head of the Elitist Pigs of America. No, most Americans aren't stupid, or pigs, etc. Just those who are currently involved in politics and voting.
I vote with my fucking fists and my wallet. Do you see how cool that sounds?
This is why you should vote for Murk and Malach. WE will lie FOR you, vote for you, go to war for you, raise taxes for bunnies for you... anything you want!!! ANYthing. Look. We're the perfect candidate for you.
1. Malach is a goose-voiced crybaby liberal crap sandwich who thinks he's black and used to be a man just like the Hillary Obamas.
2. I am an old geezer with mental illness who tries to play both sides of the fence while supporting a system that just plain doesn't work! I am more McCain than Man now.
Malach will don shoe polish and a tacky Channel skirt suit and give your money to drunks, drug addicts, criminals and the mentally ill.
I will take the money from malach because I used to be a drunk, drug addict, once stole a candy bar and I am HIGHLY medicated for my various mental problems. That and I have a tiny Republican pecker. (not my own, I cut off Angry Piper's)
So please, vote for the real liars and criminals. Murk and Malach in '06... oh, '08!
Monday, April 14, 2008
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Battlestar Galactica
For those of you not in the know, Battlestar Galactica (the new series) is quite possibly the best show on TV right now. And there's another thing that makes it worth watching. Unlike many cliffhanger shows, this season (season 4) is the last one.
The producers of the show felt it was necessary for the show to have a definite ending. Wow. So, unlike LOST, we will actually get some damn answers! How novel. A show that is a complete cycle in 4 seasons.
In a way it's a shame, but I'd rather have it like this. Some shows hang around long past their prime. The Simpsons are a prime example. Not for BSG. No slow death to bad writing and cast holdouts. No. They're going out on top at the crecendo of the story. Much like Hall of Fame running back, Jim Brown, they want the final memories of this show to be a peak performance.
I know some of you are not on board with this show. I've decided to list the supposed reasons and refute them.
1. "I don't like science fiction." Okay. But this show has something about it, an appeal that goes beyond genre. It is deep in drama, philosophy, religion, psychology, suspense, violence and romance. I don't enjoy shows about hospitals, but I loved ER. I hate cop shows, but Law and Order used to be the best game in town.
2. "It's offensive! The old series was perfect." Sorry. I've watched the old series recently. It's like watching My Little Pony in space. Lorne Green has nothing on Edward James Ulmos. And the supporting cast is spectacular. The effects are stellar. The plots are gritty. It beats the old series easily.
3. "I watched an episode and couldn't follow it." Here's where you need to step up, people. Watch the pilot/mini-series and season one. Then see if you can understand the plot. Of course, this requires a shell out for rental, purchase or DVR. It's worth it.
4. "They turned Boomer into a chick!" Yeah. A hot Asian chick! God bless them.
5. "I don't want to watch it." You see, this is the real issue. You don't want to watch it. Figures. My advice? Shut the fuck up and watch it anyways. It will do you good.
Malach and I agree that our platform for election in '08 revolves around Battlestar Galactica style politics and violence. We will ad the word FRAK to every speech. BSG will be taught in schools as an alternative to evolution. And we will launch the nukes to kill those toasters.
So, how do you like that?
The producers of the show felt it was necessary for the show to have a definite ending. Wow. So, unlike LOST, we will actually get some damn answers! How novel. A show that is a complete cycle in 4 seasons.
In a way it's a shame, but I'd rather have it like this. Some shows hang around long past their prime. The Simpsons are a prime example. Not for BSG. No slow death to bad writing and cast holdouts. No. They're going out on top at the crecendo of the story. Much like Hall of Fame running back, Jim Brown, they want the final memories of this show to be a peak performance.
I know some of you are not on board with this show. I've decided to list the supposed reasons and refute them.
1. "I don't like science fiction." Okay. But this show has something about it, an appeal that goes beyond genre. It is deep in drama, philosophy, religion, psychology, suspense, violence and romance. I don't enjoy shows about hospitals, but I loved ER. I hate cop shows, but Law and Order used to be the best game in town.
2. "It's offensive! The old series was perfect." Sorry. I've watched the old series recently. It's like watching My Little Pony in space. Lorne Green has nothing on Edward James Ulmos. And the supporting cast is spectacular. The effects are stellar. The plots are gritty. It beats the old series easily.
3. "I watched an episode and couldn't follow it." Here's where you need to step up, people. Watch the pilot/mini-series and season one. Then see if you can understand the plot. Of course, this requires a shell out for rental, purchase or DVR. It's worth it.
4. "They turned Boomer into a chick!" Yeah. A hot Asian chick! God bless them.
5. "I don't want to watch it." You see, this is the real issue. You don't want to watch it. Figures. My advice? Shut the fuck up and watch it anyways. It will do you good.
Malach and I agree that our platform for election in '08 revolves around Battlestar Galactica style politics and violence. We will ad the word FRAK to every speech. BSG will be taught in schools as an alternative to evolution. And we will launch the nukes to kill those toasters.
So, how do you like that?
Saturday, April 12, 2008
This Space for Rent
Marketing and advertising are renting space in your brain. You have been programmed and conditioned. All of your secret desires and hidden fears are know to anyone who's even remotely familiar with the process of marketing.
Oh, but you're different, right?
No. Neither am I. Just take a quick peek at this link:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_cognitive_biases
Uhuh. I've got most of those.
So, answer this? Would a marketing corporation know this about you?
Just look at how similar we all are that we can be summed up on a wiki page.
I have a solution...
Oh, but you're different, right?
No. Neither am I. Just take a quick peek at this link:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_cognitive_biases
Uhuh. I've got most of those.
So, answer this? Would a marketing corporation know this about you?
Just look at how similar we all are that we can be summed up on a wiki page.
I have a solution...
Friday, April 11, 2008
Lying
Sure, we all lie from time to time. Hell, I lie a lot. What I've been seeing lately is the casual way in which a liar performs. Let's just say, for example, your mailbox gst batted around by a few kids on your street. You see it happen.
They deny it.
You say you saw them.
They deny it.
You go to the parents, and they lie for the kids.
And it's not just wanna be punks tearing up a bunch of shit. Look at our president. Look at Hillary saying she was ducking sniper fire in Kosovo. Abd Barama playing the I Don't Agree With My Pastor nonsense.
Athletes caught with needle in their ass would look sincerely confused and ask if you stuck that in his ass.
People lie at work. They lie to get work. They lie when the fire people.
Here's the skinny sample folks. Lying is for important things like when your girl asks you if she's getting fat. Or, lying at any time to gain control over the TV remote.
Let's not forget the ladies! The either fake a headache or an orgasm. Yes, dear sirs, keep believing her when she says you're the BIGGEST she's ever had. We men might be tempted to declare that everything a woman says is lies. That's not fair. They don't know they're lying. They honestly believe all that crap they whine about.
I made up a bunch of lies to tell in court, like 'I am the early reincarnated James Earl Jones' and 'I'll be right back for my sentencing, your honor'.
So, what have we learned? Never lie for the wrong reasons.
They deny it.
You say you saw them.
They deny it.
You go to the parents, and they lie for the kids.
And it's not just wanna be punks tearing up a bunch of shit. Look at our president. Look at Hillary saying she was ducking sniper fire in Kosovo. Abd Barama playing the I Don't Agree With My Pastor nonsense.
Athletes caught with needle in their ass would look sincerely confused and ask if you stuck that in his ass.
People lie at work. They lie to get work. They lie when the fire people.
Here's the skinny sample folks. Lying is for important things like when your girl asks you if she's getting fat. Or, lying at any time to gain control over the TV remote.
Let's not forget the ladies! The either fake a headache or an orgasm. Yes, dear sirs, keep believing her when she says you're the BIGGEST she's ever had. We men might be tempted to declare that everything a woman says is lies. That's not fair. They don't know they're lying. They honestly believe all that crap they whine about.
I made up a bunch of lies to tell in court, like 'I am the early reincarnated James Earl Jones' and 'I'll be right back for my sentencing, your honor'.
So, what have we learned? Never lie for the wrong reasons.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
You've Heard of Freedom
Let me clue you halfwits in on the real agenda. You are not free. America is a wonderful country and maybe the best place to live in the world, but you are not free.
There's an upside to this. No one else here is free either. Keeps the crazies in line, eh?
The only freedom you have is in your own mind. I'm reminded of Shawshank Redemtion. Andy Dufrene survived solitary confinement by thinking and remembering pieces of music. They can break your body, your will, your emotions, but not your mind. ONLY if you let them.
We also have a reasonable measure of free speech. My point, I'd like a few of you to take a crack at letting the real thoughts out on your blog. Fuck your persona and write something.
There's an upside to this. No one else here is free either. Keeps the crazies in line, eh?
The only freedom you have is in your own mind. I'm reminded of Shawshank Redemtion. Andy Dufrene survived solitary confinement by thinking and remembering pieces of music. They can break your body, your will, your emotions, but not your mind. ONLY if you let them.
We also have a reasonable measure of free speech. My point, I'd like a few of you to take a crack at letting the real thoughts out on your blog. Fuck your persona and write something.
Friday, April 4, 2008
I Hate All Forms of Entertainment
I can only take so much. Bad shows are painful to watch. Good shows are all cliffhanger shows with no end. Movies don't last long enough. Music is all recycled and if it's not, it's such a tease because you only get 12 songs every two years or so. Video games do not have enough freedom of choice and their spinoffs or their online games infested with foul mouthed kids and geeks.
Entertainment is designed as an escape. It dulls the mind and quiets the angry heart for a time. So, eat the cud, you entertainment cows and forget that you wanted to do something in your life besides laugh at cock jokes and shoot aliens played by unknown fatties with broadband and a fridge of coke.
Screw everything else. Let's be happy and dumb. Let's worry about gas prices and greenhouse gases, and forget ourselves and what we once promised ourselves. Fuck it. Read blogs and visit you tube and google your own name and find... maybe one small blurb.
Or write your own blog and play at being a celebrity, all the while looking to your list of replies to inflate your warped sense of self importance. You could have been important, but you decided you'd rather be sedated.
Now, life consist of reaching for the next material plateau only to want more. Good job, everyone. Good job. Mighty proud.
That being said, the season premiere of Battlestar Galactica was on tonight. AWESOME.
But, I watch it for the commercials. How else would I know what to like?
Entertainment is designed as an escape. It dulls the mind and quiets the angry heart for a time. So, eat the cud, you entertainment cows and forget that you wanted to do something in your life besides laugh at cock jokes and shoot aliens played by unknown fatties with broadband and a fridge of coke.
Screw everything else. Let's be happy and dumb. Let's worry about gas prices and greenhouse gases, and forget ourselves and what we once promised ourselves. Fuck it. Read blogs and visit you tube and google your own name and find... maybe one small blurb.
Or write your own blog and play at being a celebrity, all the while looking to your list of replies to inflate your warped sense of self importance. You could have been important, but you decided you'd rather be sedated.
Now, life consist of reaching for the next material plateau only to want more. Good job, everyone. Good job. Mighty proud.
That being said, the season premiere of Battlestar Galactica was on tonight. AWESOME.
But, I watch it for the commercials. How else would I know what to like?
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
The Bullshit
Someone wanted me to write a whole post on drinking the Kool Aid. I don't think any of you can handle the real drink, the hard stuff. No, my world in this end of the blog slums is couched in a laugh it off sort of angst that the original Boston comedians like Lenny Clarke and Tony V used to espouse. It fuck you, fuck your mother and fuck your whole family including your dead dog stuff.
The Kool Aid is another story.
In fact, it's such an outrageous story that I could post about it and you'd have to assume it was more made up stuff.
I don't talk about drinking the Kool Aid. I've got family and friends that I need to protect from that story. I'm not embarassed of anything I've said, seen or done, but they don't need to know about it. I'm in a safe place now and I feel alright. I'm pretty healthy, and that's a wonder in and of itself.
Some of you older folk might get the idea. I'm a lusty 34 years old, still a pup to most. But don't we all know how some years last longer than others. I've seen and done more in my short life than I had the right to expect and I'm still living. In fact, I do pretty well. I'm still as dumb as I ever was when it comes to taking risks, but thankfully, most of those risks don't get the chance to walk past my doorstep.
I was never a bad ass, but I did drink the Kool Aid. Sometimes by choice. Much of the writing I've done comes from a seed of experience. I never write under my own name or even under the name of Dr. Murk. I'll tell you this. Some of my writing has scared the people who read it. Not because it was scary but because they saw it wasn't fiction. I know a few situations well enough that fictionalizing them isn't necessary. All I have to do is get some schmuck to ghost write. I make these pen pals up, but their names always come from somewhere.
Unfortunately, I, Dr. Robert J. Murk cannot tell you about drinking the Kool Aid. My master can and, due to the fact that he has finally settled on a book project in which the Kool Aid is served and drunk, I will restrict my posts here to absolute bullshit for the time being (as if they weren't already).
So, enjoy a few of the old stories on the other blogs and the web comics of Malach based on some of those stories. They may not be Kool Aid, but they will be enough to give you a recipe to make your own.
Also, as boring as this sounds, I will be updating the progress of my master's book project via Christopher Morris. So, go pay him a visit. He's taking a short break from fiction to help our master write what he needs to write. You asked us to.
More later...
The Kool Aid is another story.
In fact, it's such an outrageous story that I could post about it and you'd have to assume it was more made up stuff.
I don't talk about drinking the Kool Aid. I've got family and friends that I need to protect from that story. I'm not embarassed of anything I've said, seen or done, but they don't need to know about it. I'm in a safe place now and I feel alright. I'm pretty healthy, and that's a wonder in and of itself.
Some of you older folk might get the idea. I'm a lusty 34 years old, still a pup to most. But don't we all know how some years last longer than others. I've seen and done more in my short life than I had the right to expect and I'm still living. In fact, I do pretty well. I'm still as dumb as I ever was when it comes to taking risks, but thankfully, most of those risks don't get the chance to walk past my doorstep.
I was never a bad ass, but I did drink the Kool Aid. Sometimes by choice. Much of the writing I've done comes from a seed of experience. I never write under my own name or even under the name of Dr. Murk. I'll tell you this. Some of my writing has scared the people who read it. Not because it was scary but because they saw it wasn't fiction. I know a few situations well enough that fictionalizing them isn't necessary. All I have to do is get some schmuck to ghost write. I make these pen pals up, but their names always come from somewhere.
Unfortunately, I, Dr. Robert J. Murk cannot tell you about drinking the Kool Aid. My master can and, due to the fact that he has finally settled on a book project in which the Kool Aid is served and drunk, I will restrict my posts here to absolute bullshit for the time being (as if they weren't already).
So, enjoy a few of the old stories on the other blogs and the web comics of Malach based on some of those stories. They may not be Kool Aid, but they will be enough to give you a recipe to make your own.
Also, as boring as this sounds, I will be updating the progress of my master's book project via Christopher Morris. So, go pay him a visit. He's taking a short break from fiction to help our master write what he needs to write. You asked us to.
More later...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
