“What are you doing for Christmas?” Shorty asked me. “Same thing I do every year. Nothing.” “Do you celebrate the solstice?” I do celebrate the solstice, but I lied and told him I didn’t. “My wife used to celebrate the solstice,” Shorty told me.
“So how did it go on Friday?” “Pretty good. Dinner, drinks. Then she wanted to go back to my place.” “That makes things easier.” “Except in the morning, it’s either driving or cab fare.” “You’re a gentleman.” “Not really. But I have my standards.” “So did she stay the night?” “And then some.” “What do you mean?” “She woke me in the morning, if…
Mark this item off my bucket list: “Get name mentioned on Boing-Boing.” The latest issue of Pravic magazine, in which my short story “The Robot Felt” appears, was noticed by the editors at Boing-Boing.
Begin the morning by saying to thyself, I shall meet with the busy-body, the ungrateful, arrogant, deceitful, envious, unsocial. All these things happen to them by reason of their ignorance of what is good and evil. But I who have seen the nature of the good that it is beautiful, and of the bad that it is ugly, and the nature of him who…
In the simplest of gaming terms, “weird science” is a way to have “magical powers” in a campaign world that doesn’t have magic or psionics. Weird inventions and theories based in at least the minimal application of the scientific method replace spell systems and psychic talents. In such a GURPS campaign, a weird scientist might devise something like “Explosive Lightning” by tapping the Orgone,…
Paul Simon wrote “A Simple Desultory Philippic (or How I Was Robert McNamara’d Into Submission)” during a period of time when he was frequently traveling between the US and the UK. The lyrics are a parody or homage to the style of folk song then exemplified and popularized by Bob Dylan. Recorded versions of the song even feature a bridge where Simon echoes a…
“I believe I will write a novel.” He was sitting in a pool of sunlight recovering from the weekend when the old priest suddenly made this declaration. He said nothing in retort. The sun was too warm for it. It was the rare winter day that was like this. Outside his private pool of sunlight the world swam cold and blue like the oceans…
The way I remember it, sometime during the summer of 1975 I picked up a copy of Ripley’s Believe It or Not comics for 25-cents from the local pharmacy. The cover depicted the ghostly apparitions of a coonskin-cap-wearing frontiersman and an Indian with a mohawk clenched in mortal combat. Behind them a stunned night watchman nearly drops his flashlight in horror. Inside there was…
Pyramid Magazine has published a brief article I wrote on the femme fatale archetype, which is found most commonly in film noir and hardboiled crime fiction. The article also considers attributes and other elements of the femme fatale character that are applicable to role-playing games. While the article focuses on GURPS mechanics, the ideas could certainly be implemented in any gaming system. This publication…
The first rule of Pomo Club is that there is in reality no Pomo Club. The second rule of Pomo Club is that reality is a construct. The third rule of Pomo Club is that language is a key component to the construction of any reality. The fourth rule of Pomo Club is that there are no absolute truths, and any perception of any…
As he finished putting gas in the car, she asked if she should buy more water. He said it was up to her. It depended on whether she wanted to die of thirst or over-hydration. On the way there she asked if she could listen to talk radio. He didn’t mind, he told her, as long as he didn’t have to hear it. Silence…
Ronald Reagan died and went to hell. He was just as surprised about it as you are. He wasn’t expecting a standing ovation but he got one. Many souls enduring torment appreciate a rousing speech. It gets tiresome, all that weeping and gnashing of teeth. The tedium of torture begs variety and change in its hellish routine. Reagan demurred but the damned insisted. Always…
I have this idea for a story that is a recursion. In computing, a recursion is a function which repeats itself. It’s like that old kids joke, Pete and Repeat. You say to a friend, “Pete and Repeat were sitting on a fence. Pete fell off. Who was left?” And your friend says, “Repeat.” And you repeat the joke. I have this idea for…
Once upon a time Charming Billy asked me, “If you could pick one song to sum up your life, what would it be?” “I don’t know that any one song could sum up my life,” I told him. “I’d need something epic, something like Stairway without all the mystical bullshit, Free Bird without all the sentiment. What about you?” We both thought about it.…
Act 1. Scene 1. THE TOURNAMENT FIELD LORD FANCY and MAN are watching the tournament from the Royal Box Seats. Two armored knights fight with wooden swords; each defends with a wooden shield. On the shield of one knight is a red cross over a white field. The other knight’s shield is a green field with three brown ovals. FANCY: Who is this one…
