Primordial pulp.
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Musings aimed to please, inspire, take you away from this mad world and deliver you to even crazier realms.
Now readable on multiple media layers! No extra charge for nuance or meta-tropes!
Coppula eam, se non posit jocularum
Alfred E. Newman
MANIFESTO
Robin Morrison has pursued life like a senile butterfly enthusiast, rushing off without so much as a net, always feeling he's left something behind; for example, the memory of where he came from before he emerged to mate and some day die.
He is old and unwise. His sword arm is shot, and he agrees with the authorities that there's nothing like a good blaster at your side and stomping on anything that still writhes. He calls this 'writing'.
"Writing protects me from reality," he said. "Readers protect me from my creditors.
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Blog Archive
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2014
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January
(30)
- Man Bites Back
- Hold Tight to Your Dreams
- Primal Starbucks: the ur-logo
- If You Like That Sort of Thing...
- Save Your Breath, eh?
- Ice Throne
- Today's Curious Quote
- There's something about a Monday morning that want...
- The Honorable Judge Dee, Sherlock Holmes of ancien...
- The First Trilogy
- To boldly go...
- Machina speculatrix
- Illuminating the fine line between preparedness an...
- Nice Work
- Guts, Glory, & Galaxies
- Tempus figut
- Pray Your Brain Strong
- Fabio the Yeti Hunk
- Boxes
- The moving finger writes, and having writ...
- The photo below is by my brother-in-law, Eric Joh...
- Tropical Mystery Gods
- 1880s London in 2014 Beijing
- Bad Sneakers
- The long and winding road...
- Red Rajah
- Whether to Weather the Weather or Not
- God Complex
- Blind Ghost
- Wanted: Alive
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January
(30)
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