Never too late. Shooting is prayer. And when civilisation shuts up shop, a gun’ll be worth any number of university degrees.
Pretending,' she looked at the garden, 'is not the truth.''But you said two true things, right ? One, you hate this girl. Two, you want her to feel better. If you decide that the wanting truth's more...
I've never listened to music lying down. Listening's reading if you close your eyes.Music's a wood you walk through.
Mental maps. Maps with edges. And for Auden, for so many of us, it's the edges of the maps that fascinate...
The first of ‘Goose’s Two Laws of Survival.’ It runs thus, ‘The weak are meat the strong do eat.’ ... Henry grinned in the dark & cleared his throat. The second law of survival states that there is n...
Snarling an oath from an Icelandic saga, I reclaimed my place at the head of the queue. Oy! yelled a punk rocker, with studs in his cranium. There's a fackin' queue!Never apologize, advises Lloyd Geor...
Fuck you, said Fear to Reason.
Sometimes John had recorded new compositions, or lines from his new poems. Sometimes he'd just record a busy night in The Green Man. Sometimes sheep, seals, skylarks, the wind turbine. If Liam were ho...
Revolting’ was the last word I ever spoke as someone who’d never kissed a girl.
Las autobiografías ya de por sí son infumables, ¡pero anda que las novelitas! Héroe emprende viaje, forastero llega a la ciudad, alguien persigue algo, lo consigue o no lo consigue, conflicto entre vo...
The Rottnest Light is a stumpy middle finger sticking up from the a rocky rise, grunting, Sit on this, mate.
After years of working with missionaries, I am tempted to conclude that their endeavors merely prolong a dying race's agonies for ten or twenty years. The merciful plowman shoots a trusty horse grown...
Spent the fortnight gone in the music room reworking my year's fragments into a 'sextet for overlapping soloists': piano, clarinet, 'cello, flute, oboe, and violin, each in its own language of key, sc...
Do you ever think you might be a different species of human, knitted out of raw DNA in a laboratory like in , and then turned loose to see if you can pass yourself off as normal or not?
I find a certain comfort, confesses Marinus, in humanity's helplessness.
A true suicide is a paced, disciplined certainty. People pontificate, Suicide is selfishness. Career churchmen like Pater go a step further and call it a cowardly assault on the living. Oafs argue thi...
Rootlessness, I opine, is the twenty-first century norm.You're not wrong and that's why we're in the shit we're in, mate. If you belong nowhere, why give a tinker's toss about anywhere?
The Future, says Ian, in a film-trailer voice. Coming soon, to a Present near you.
For most digital-age writers, writing rewriting. We grope, cut, block, paste, and twitch, panning for gold onscreen by deleting bucketloads of crap. Our analog ancestors had to polish every line ment...
How about this? Hong Kong had been appropriated by British drug pushers in the 1840s. We wanted Chinese silk, porcelain, and spices. The Chinese didn't want our clothes, tools, or salted herring, and...
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