Wow. Long time, no blog.
Well, rather than re-cap the last -- well, forever -- let's just start fresh, shall we?
It's getting close to the holidays. It's cold. Bram Stoker's Dracula is on basic cable. I'm up late looking at naked girls on a Saturday night. Drinking chai.
Hope everyone out there is doing well.
Well, rather than re-cap the last -- well, forever -- let's just start fresh, shall we?
It's getting close to the holidays. It's cold. Bram Stoker's Dracula is on basic cable. I'm up late looking at naked girls on a Saturday night. Drinking chai.
Hope everyone out there is doing well.
Happy New Year, everybody!
Here's hoping that everyone's 2010 is wonderful -- or, at least, better than 2009.
(In my case, that shouldn't be very difficult.)
Here's hoping that everyone's 2010 is wonderful -- or, at least, better than 2009.
(In my case, that shouldn't be very difficult.)
I post this every year, but I like it. It's one of my favorite short stories (only 100 words) from one of my favorite writers, Neil Gaiman. Hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday.
NICHOLAS WAS . . .
older than sin, and his beard could grow no whiter.
He wanted to die.
The dwarfish natives of the Arctic caverns did not speak his language, but conversed in their own, twittering tongue, conducted incomprehensible rituals, when they were not actually working in the factories.
Once every year they forced him, sobbing and protesting, into Endless Night. During the journey he would stand near every child in the world, leave one of the dwarves' invisible gifts by its bedside. The children slept, frozen in time.
He envied Prometheus and Loki, Sisyphus and Judas.
His punishment was harsher.
Ho.
Ho.
Ho.
NICHOLAS WAS . . .
older than sin, and his beard could grow no whiter.
He wanted to die.
The dwarfish natives of the Arctic caverns did not speak his language, but conversed in their own, twittering tongue, conducted incomprehensible rituals, when they were not actually working in the factories.
Once every year they forced him, sobbing and protesting, into Endless Night. During the journey he would stand near every child in the world, leave one of the dwarves' invisible gifts by its bedside. The children slept, frozen in time.
He envied Prometheus and Loki, Sisyphus and Judas.
His punishment was harsher.
Ho.
Ho.
Ho.
It's much too hot around here for civilized people to function.
Thank Zeus for air conditioning.
Thank Zeus for air conditioning.
I post this every year, but I like it. It's one of my favorite short stories (only 100 words) from one of my favorite writers, Neil Gaiman. Hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday.
NICHOLAS WAS . . .
older than sin, and his beard could grow no whiter.
He wanted to die.
The dwarfish natives of the Arctic caverns did not speak his language, but conversed in their own, twittering tongue, conducted incomprehensible rituals, when they were not actually working in the factories.
Once every year they forced him, sobbing and protesting, into Endless Night. During the journey he would stand near every child in the world, leave one of the dwarves' invisible gifts by its bedside. The children slept, frozen in time.
He envied Prometheus and Loki, Sisyphus and Judas.
His punishment was harsher.
Ho.
Ho.
Ho.
NICHOLAS WAS . . .
older than sin, and his beard could grow no whiter.
He wanted to die.
The dwarfish natives of the Arctic caverns did not speak his language, but conversed in their own, twittering tongue, conducted incomprehensible rituals, when they were not actually working in the factories.
Once every year they forced him, sobbing and protesting, into Endless Night. During the journey he would stand near every child in the world, leave one of the dwarves' invisible gifts by its bedside. The children slept, frozen in time.
He envied Prometheus and Loki, Sisyphus and Judas.
His punishment was harsher.
Ho.
Ho.
Ho.
