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got a new piece up on Deorbital.

https://deorbital.media/magazine-firmware-5ebbffef8db0#.tdmc2xszo

about Lebanon. guns. games. and experience.

cheers.

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https://dancefighterredux.wordpress.com/2016/08/12/petes-dragon-a-review-spoilers/

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Flash fiction:

There was a carp. It was stupid and useless and if it didn’t get up the waterfall it would die. There was no reason to think it would get up the waterfall, but it did, and became a dragon. But the other dragons didn’t like the former carp, saying it was guilty of appropriating draconic identity, and that its experiences as a carp could never equip it to understand and show solidarity with dragonkind. Meanwhile, all of the former carp’s fellow carp friends had died, because they couldn’t get up the waterfall. Alienated from all society, the lonely dragon retreated to the mountains, where he collected gold just to soothe himself with something. One day, a knight appeared. Leveling his lance, he charged on his noble steed towards the dragon, who dodged out of the way.

“Wait!” said the dragon “Why are you doing this?”

“You are a foul wyrm, a scourge to the community, and must be destroyed!”

“But I’ve never hurt anybody!”

“Your cunning tongue will get you nowhere, serpent. If you’ve hurt nobody, where did your gold come from?”

“But I can breathe fire, and have tremendous claws for digging. I can make as much gold as I like!”

But the knight was unpersuaded “And what business does an animal have with gold that is intended for men? You deprive men in either case just by existing! And so you shall die!”

And so the dragon was slain. But the knight, feeling guilty, took the dragon as his symbol. He kept his memory, in a way, and became the retainer of the dragon’s whole existence; but when he told his story, the dragon was a monster, and all the substance of his life was omitted.

The end.

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new poem up.

first one post-publication.

cheers.

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last post on this blog. off to new things

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A wrote a book called Book of Sanctimony. Its significance is largely contingent on my suicide. It’s impossible to share via text though as the handwriting and other physical aspects are so significant to it.

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So I had a blog idea for years and made this august but actually started working on it 2 weeks ago because a net buddy of mine also wanted to do it and now I’m participating in a small blog circle jerk but also crave outsider attention. So out of 4 blog posts I’ve made so far I think 2 of them I’m proud to share.

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I contributed an essay to an exhibition running at Babycastles till December 8! You can see most of my contributed piece via blurry phone vids and pictures on twitter.

If any of you are around NYC, check it out! The curators have put in a ton of work making a super cool show.

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Stumbled upon a poem I wrote about 10 years ago. It’s alright, I guess, probably too much affectation in there. But what the hell, let’s share:

“What do the animals say,” she asks,
“when you speak to them in the deep green of the wood?”

I tell her that most don’t have much to say
that the stutter of butterflies
and the chatter of the rook and robin
hold little of substance

For the best conversations, I tell her
it is best to speak with the slow creatures

“Slow creatures?”

Yes, the old slow ones:
The turtle, spider and crane
the ones who dwell in stillness

“What do they say?” she asks.

Turtles, I tell her
are slow to begin but
will extol the virtues
of cool mud and sun-drenched logs
They speak of letting life’s assaults bounce from one’s back
as one trudges along - until reaching the water and sudden agility

Spiders speak of patience, and waiting
Of the prey who never see a web until it’s too late
and the ensuing ecstasy of vibrating threads and struggling wings
the slow life-drain of the uncomprehending
and the long work of rebuilding one’s home

Cranes reflect on their reflections
like the ones they always look through
to see the flickering fish in the water
The fish swim in the cranes’ reflections -
(a reflection of the end of flickering)
They tell how beaks plunge into water,
emptying a reflection’s belly to fill one’s own

“I wonder what rabbits have to say?” my friend wonders aloud, and laughs.

I can’t answer her, this time
rabbits have always been too fast for me

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I have a piece in the latest monthly issue of Unwinnable on Michiru Yamane and the expectations we have of artists, composers/bands in particular.

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This’ll probably be the second-to-last entry in the series.

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â€ȘNew Post‬

â€Șon having twins, readjustment, and #DandyDungeon‬

â€Șhttp://wp.me/pStJL-rV‬

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i’m happy to see more writing from you. and this piece got me to sit down with dandy dungeon for more than 5 minutes. it’s really good, and warm

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I made a thing in Twine 2 https://clint.neocities.org/10%20minutes.html

It’s somewhere between a short story and a poem, I suppose. It has a little body horror in it.

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This is the first paragraph in a piece I’m writing on Metroid and architecture

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It’s good

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Update: It’s turning out great and it’s allowing me to follow up on that piece about contemporary architectural trends. Aiming to have illustrations too

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I need to revisit that game - it was my favorite of the three GBA games when I was younger, but I certainly fell into the trap of “the ost is bad because it sounds old.”