So the story follows (Jake Sully / Paul Atreides) on this weird planet of (Pandora / Arrakis). Shit hits the fan with the death of his (brother / father) and he takes up refuge with the indigenous people, the (Na’vi / Fremen) who are wise in the ways of nature on this alien world and speak in a strange language that sounds oddly (Polynesian / Arabic).
I just wanted to write to say how much of a fan I am of your work! Even here in Munich, whenever a poor paper-hanger like myself can scrap a few hundred thousand marks together, I can think of no better way to spend an afternoon than to watch you “tramp” about! A good joke, yes? I think I have a future as a writer, but am focusing on painting at the moment. I feel I just need a decisive look to define myself, and so I was writing to ask if I could use your trademark mustache to help with my own image?
The Potty Pyramid of Djoser, where the extant copies were found. At the time of its construction, it was the tallest building in the world.
In Ancient Greece, few dramas were more tense than this exchange of sharp words and swords between a pair of rival playwrights. Their story remained lost to history until the relevant documents were plumbed out of the depths of an Egyptian portopotty. It is supposed that they were deposited there after being discarded when an Achaemenid used them as first reading material, and then toilet paper.
I did not have friends growing up. I was too quiet, too reserved, too terrified of being hurt by other people. My parents never beat me, in contrast, the house was overly safe, and I think that’s what the problem was. My mother had constructed a sanctuary for me to keep out the evils of the world, but by the time I would have entered school, it was a psychological prison. Years passed by in solitude as I remained stagnant. Time has no meaning to those who remain unchanged.
The fabled woods of Nor are usually filled with the chirping of birds this time of year. Yet in the clearing near the Tree of Infinite Truths, no creature dare stir. Sitting upon the roots of the aged elm sits the Tree Guardian, a powerful dimension traveler, the wrinkles of his years resembling the sacred bark he rests his back against. Nature itself respects the elder’s meditation.
Public Access TV will always be known as the proto-YouTube for people who cared about their idiotic obsessions enough to apply to have them broadcast, but not enough to put any time or thought into them. Sometimes the results were abominable. Sometimes they were just merely atrocious. And sometimes… they were ineffable.
Take, for instance, this fellow on the Hurdy-Gurdy:
From the Clunkline Future Affairs Correspondence Desk- March 9th, 2025
Christian Bale, 51, the disgraced ex-actor, has apparently sent himself back in time to halt production of Terminator: Salvation; the legendary 2009 flop that he feels is responsible for the destruction of his career.
A different perspective on events eight years old.
Following pressure from President Bin Laden, the Senate voted unanimously to invade North America, a fascist nation thought to be harboring terrorists from the fundamentalist Christian terrorist group Project for a New American Century.
Known for their megalomaniacal aims, gross nationalism, and no qualms about using force, the Project for a New American Century is the United States of the Middle East Except For Israel’s greatest foe: an axis of evil unilaterally disseminating their fundamentalist propaganda, and sending thousands of well-armed terrorists surging into USMEEFI territories.
Whereupon I departed from Ipswitch with twenty-five souls, eight heavy guns, munitions, supplies, pack-animals, and the Queen’s blessing to map the great interior of our new Cape Colony, I, Sir Ramash Cornwall, began this log of my expedition for publication upon my return.
“To say the least, the increased, two-way aggression in the Gaza Strip has shocked us. Who would have thought that a state founded on ethnicity and divine mandate would come into conflict with a displaced people of a different ethnicity and different divine mandate?” asked U.S. State Department spokesman Bill Reed in a press conference.
He then spent several minutes playing cheerily with his pencil. “You guys ever notice how, when you drop something, it falls?” he asked us with childlike curiosity, watching his pencil clatter to the floor. “How remarkable. I wonder if anyone’s thought of a succinct way of describing that. Maybe something like, ‘obvious cause and effect’.”
Trick-or-Treating will last from 6pm – 8pm on Friday for the city proper, 5:47pm – 8:22pm for those living in its faster-moving outlying regions, or 6:13pm – LL5:87aZ for blocks bordering the Alcubierre Anomaly. For those looking for convenient candy containers, Frau Goedel’s Stoneware has generously donated to the City a few thousand of their popular Klein bags. They will be dispensed at their office on Mobius Street, which you can find on either side of the sidewalk.
Tanzmetall (the obvious emperor of Clunkline), Grabass Champion, and myself have written and often times still write music. I’m not really sure about the other two, but my composition writing has evolved out of clicking in a bunch of notes in Sibelius 2.0 and simply saving them as midis. Yes, I now have two really nice keyboards, which I use to play out most of the tracks in my songs, a friend who is quite eloquent on the guitar, and the means to get live recordings of just about any wind instrument I can think of within reason. Recently, I’ve written a new strain of songs for a would-be soundtrack to a graphic novel I am writing and hope to publish someday, and the thought occurred to me that one of Tanzmetall’s original compositions from back in the day would make a splendid theme for one of the villains (a continent-sized magma serpent that dwells under the Earth’s mantle). That song is called FLIGHT FROM EMSARIA, and though everything we write today is vastly superior in almost every way to what we used to write while we were in high school, nothing has ever struck a satisfying chord quite like this song has. At least that’s what I think. But what is it about FLIGHT FROM EMSARIA that is so… so… terrifying (in a good way)?