Nothing gets a fellow feeling young and spritely again like wandering into the wrong part of town at the wrong time...
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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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2019
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March
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- Cannibal Tours and the City of the Dead
- Dumber and Dumbest
- Petrodollars, US Sanctions, Financial Skidmarks
- Whatcha Gonna Do When the Well Runs Dry
- Starless and Bible-Black
- He Didn't Look Much Like a Chinaman...
- The Case of the Invisible Asymptote
- The Wolf at Prayer
- Folk-Rock Hippies in Ireland in the Early 70s!
- Sevillian Barberism
- Parked, Here.
- See, Sex Really Does Sell...
- A Heart Needs A Home
- Don't Be a Sociopath, Kids!
- Stunningly Useless
- A Personal Word of Advice
- A Moment of Blissful Clarity
- Ellington's Great Second Wind Band...
- In Days of Yore
- "The Rajahs of Erase"
- What Prayer Means To Me
- Tide-Died
- Thinking, Dreaming, Singing Meat
- Hence the title...
- My Favorite Painting...
- Baby Boomer Apology Reprise
- On the Repercussions of Angelic Behavior...
- A Baby Boomer's Apology
- Russian Reality versus American Absurdity
- The Great (Russian) Conspiracy
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March
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