The Edge of the Internet

coffee
Originally uploaded by a nameless yeast.

“Fuck what am I to do?” He checked his watch, she was late, or maybe he was easily. He couldn’t get the simple things right anymore. All he could think about was what would happen if she left him? He eyed the cup again. The oracle was dead, gone and sinking to the bottom to stain the enamel. He sighed and wondered if he had time to order a sharp knife for his veins from the bustling waitress.

"Hello pretty boy, you're looking you usual befuddled morning self." Her voice was a cool breeze on skin baked from a long day in the sun.

“Do I? It’s hard to tell sometimes. I think my face likes to express stories that are all its own. I am contemplative not befuddled.” He stood as a gentleman should for the woman he’s supposed to cherish. Her mischievous smile appeared as she slipped onto her chair adjusting her skirts to show a hint of leg.

Originally uploaded by jamieanne.

“In my cowardess I let my heart turn to stone and now it impedes my way.” Her smile did not sink but her eyes dimmed to sad.

“And where would you be going?” He hid behind his coffee cup swallowing a goodly sum. She was not letting herself be distracted by pretty things. Quietly she waited for him to speak. Somewhere he heard mummers in the crowd laugh.

“I want to say those words that mean so much to you, but the frosted lump in chest threatens to break. It is a fragile toy that too many have broken. I will not survive another shattering.”

“Silly boy, so dramatic and scared. Say the words, you’ve said them before, you can do so again. You’ll survive.” She reached across the table to poke his shaking hand.

“You’ve lied about me and to me in front of my face. You edit your memories like a playwright experimenting with a play. You mean nothing you say while stressing that others listen to you for your integrity. My heart refuses to keep my mind from analyzing. I will not say the words, they are merely tools for you to use.”

Her smile waned and failed, she hugged herself tight pulling back from him to lean depressed on her chair. The table between them became their joint barrier and shield.

“You may well say that but I refuse to believe your mean it. You are a coward but I care for you anyways. You live in a glasshouse as much as me. Speak the words, you know you don’t want to loose me, would that not break your heart as much? You can only change yourself, others can’t do it for you. Choose, or I will say them for you, either way what does it matter because you know we’re not really here.”

The waitress arrived in a rush to tsk. She whipped clean the empty table shaking her head at the abandoned full cup of coffee. The wind gusted as she picked the cup up and for a brief puzzling moment she thought she heard a voice.

“I love you.”

This is just a ghost story don’t read anything into it.

Posted by Silenzio at 12:39 AM | Permalink

Originally uploaded by hendriko.

Today’s tactic was to answer everything with a ‘God does something every time you do something’ line. He throws a tape ball at me, I tell him ‘God kills a puppy every time you throw a tape ball at me.’ It was fun and we both laughed because he would answer with puppy dog eyes and a quivering lip while saying, ‘No he doesn’t, take that back.’ At which point I say ‘God curb stomps the Apostles when you make that sad face’

Weeeee what fun.

He only got offended twice. “God masturbates every time you kick a cat.’ Made him gasp and sputter a ‘God does not masturbate, don’t be disgusting.’ To which I had to answer, ‘Every time you say that God throat fucks an Angle to death to prove you wrong.’ Before either of us could say anything else Paulette who had been eavesdropping leaned in and tossed out ‘She does not masturbate. God is a lesbian and gets all the sex she wants from the tooth fairy. When their drunk they invite the Easter bunny over.’ I laughed so hard I had a coughing fit. John thumped off muttering something about heathens.

Tomorrow might actually be a fun workday.

Our shift has moved and will end at 7.30pm at which time Jeff, Derek, and I are heading off to see Sky High at the Strawberry Hill Grande Theatres in Delta. We’ll be seeing a 9-ish showing, so if you feel like joining us please do.

The photo is for Robert. It’s a Zen moment I look forward to reading about as our alter egos walk around the labyrinth.

I’m off for a smoke.

Posted by Silenzio at 12:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Haus_F_1
Originally uploaded by Scheugl.

Posted by Silenzio at 3:28 AM | Permalink

I’m bored, really bored. So very bored. I’m so bored that cleaning my room and doing the dishes seems like a worthwhile adventure, I that damn bored. I’m so bored that I feel the need to tell all you my phantom readers about how bored I am. How dull of me.

I’m so bored I have a word file open where I’m jotting down notes for a larp game based on the resources system that Derek is tinkering with. It’s a game where you play people living in a computer game. I’m stealing liberally from Nobilus, Changling, Noir, DnD, Shadowrun, and a few old ideas I had once. As a game player you don’t get XP you earn more space on the worlds servers to use to add stuff to your character. You play for money to buy more skills. Imagine if you will a larp game that can take place anywhere because it’s all digital, but without the God stuff that Nobilus needs for its premise. Think of it a game that you can set anywhere, anytime that strikes your fancy or is needed for the narrative of the story you’re trying to tell.

Naturally you will need an enemy and I was theorizing on factions trying to use the game world for their own benefits, like Harsh Realm or the United States. Or maybe viruses out to destroy the characters, except instead of being NPC’s their other players, and you need to find out whom. It’s all just rough ideas at the moment.

I saw Howl’s Moving Castleon Monday. I so adore Miazaki’s work. He fires my imagination, makes me wish I could live just for a bit in the worlds he’s created. I see myself sipping coffee, smoking cigarettes and waiting for an airship to take me somewhere exciting. Meanwhile gloop creatures are seeping out of the walls to rip me to shreds. I suspect he knows how old he is and that there might not be another film for him so this was his swan song. One final effort to pull out all his clever tricks and ideas then mash them into one glorious extravaganza. It did need a sunglass wearing flying pig in it though. But then like Tim with Burton I have a blind spot for Miazaki and can’t tell if his films are bad, I love them all no matter what.

Having let the film settle and slightly digest I’ve decided that I do indeed like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, except for the omplumpa songs, those can rot in hell. I don’t care if they were from the book, and made other people all tingly in their pants. They were obnoxious and made me want to poke out my eyes and bust my eardrums. The rest of the film was good, even Johnny Depp’s collogue of previous character’s mannerisms has grown on me. The grandparents were still the best characters in the film though.

Bring it Tim I'll crush your nay saying.

And last Robert has provided for Derek:

http://www.alldumb.com/media/content/2005/07/12724.wmv

And there are geeks in the world even I am frightened off.

http://www.fanzing.com/images/imgs09/jlamvwp.jpg

Posted by Silenzio at 12:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Hello,

I'm still here and alive and all, I just went outside for a little while and was injoying the sun. I forgot for a smige of time that I own a computer. Once my imagination has finnished working on its sunburn I'll post something. Till then ... um ... sure, go do something ... yea ... oh we have iced tea in the house.

Posted by Silenzio at 1:51 AM | Permalink

Robert who I address as the Burning Scorpion here showed up at coffee on Wednesday night, much to my delighted surprise. He and I are crack to each other we feast on shared thoughts brought about by the gestalt formed by the love we have for comic books. Playfully we run rampant around the comic book universes pissing on parts of them to mark territory to hem in the others wit. It’s all rapid-fire sentences and cryptic phrases that left Derek and Shafik staring in the dust as our minds raced.

He is building a website to post his thoughts on, he has asked me to supply content. He brought me homework. I was giddy before I slept, that might have just been the cold sneaking its polluted way through the gears of my mind though. I’m to read the first two trade paperbacks of Fables by Bill Willingham.

This is the article I wrote. I need my friends to read it and be brutal in their critism. I need to know if this works, is imformative, or is crap. Don't spare my feelings I need the truth this time.

Fables: Legends in Exile and Animal Farm

I’m a sucker for stories that take existing characters and reinvent them, or use them in new situations. Sometimes this works out, most times it’s a gimmick that runs thin quickly. Bill Willingham tried his hands at reinventing the Holy Grail of a character cast. He took the fairy tales we had read to us as kids then had rammed into our minds by that theme park company, you know the one over there in Orlando, that’s right the one supposedly with its founder in cryogenic frozen suspension.

Anyways. Here’s a couple story arcs about a world where the fables of our childhood live in exile in New York city their homelands having been taken over by a creature know as the Adversary. What’s a fairy tale to do when pushed in the cold reality of our mundane world, why set up a government in exile under Good King Coal with Snow White as the principle administrator of course. Has the idea run thin on you yet? It only took two issues into the first collection for me, but that was okay because by then I had forgiven the kitsch value of the idea and was impressed by the subtle characterization Willingham was portraying. Snow White and her sister estranged because Red Rose had had an adulterous affair with Snow’s hubby Prince Charming. The big bad wolf was now Fable town’s sheriff and Snow’s principle enforcer. No shrinking violet our Snow either, she might be a bit naïve and dare I say it stuck in a storybook mentality, but when push comes to shove she’s a cagey bird.

So the characters are good and it’s obvious that Willingham and the first arc’s artists, Lan Medina, Steve Leialoha, and Craig Hamilton are having fun playing with them. Turning them on their ears and making them more ‘human’ with our mundane foibles while still keeping true to the elements of character found in the fables but is the first story a good read?

Not really. It’s a classic bit of detective fiction so much so that Bigby Wolf even comments on the fact within the narrative. It plods along with the expected outcome showing up in the last issue, but I found that I wasn’t reading the book for the central story instead I was reading to see what the characters were doing in the background. The artists drew and inked a pretty world, its not artistically ground breaking but it does transport you to where you need to go. There are some genuinely funny moments caused by who the characters are in relation to each other that had me chuckling as I turned the pages.

Then I read Animal Farm, the second collected story arc and smiled. Where Legends in Exile was okay, this was fantastic. Here you get to see the flip side of the Fable community in exile. Here was the hidden farm where the fables that don’t look human where hidden away and not to happy about it. How can you not enjoy a story of Revolution where the Three Little Pigs and Goldilocks are the ring leaders? I will not be a party to spoilers, that would be unfair to you, my dearest readers, but suffice to say it is worth picking these two trades up if for nothing more then a giggle at seeing old bedtime characters come to life in a way that will make you remember those days past fondly. When was the last time you thought about the Little Boy Blue and the difficult task he has as Snow White’s secretary? And I know you’re interested in finding out what Jack the giant killer has been up to. Did I mention that Goldilocks is sleeping with baby bear?

Posted by Silenzio at 2:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I woke up in a sweat, my head in a fog and my body aching. I remember Jeff knocking on my door in that knuckle bashing way of his. I remember that high falsetto voice I only posses when I’m startled awake thanking him for calling into work for me. Today I played hooky from life. At 3pm I dragged myself out of bed, the bed sheets were tossed about, vague dreams and nightmares were laughing at me through the fog. I’d been running in my sleep again. Sometimes I’m pleased that the creaky gears of my clockwork brain don’t remember things correctly all the time. My hair was twisted about trying to strangle me and push down my throat to choke me simultaneously. I stank of disease and sorrow.

Grumpy, dumpy Bill staggering around his cluttered room, sneering at useless flotsam and jetsam, books assaulting toes, boxes bashing knees. Oh, right I wear glasses.

Twenty minutes in a shower just to feel human again.

My computer called. I should do something constructive with my time. I should not go outside and spread plague and pestilence. I’m depressed. It’s like adverts you never really notice them till they interrupt what fun you’re doing. This little girl who I know I should not be infactuated with asked me to write her letters, she doesn’t have time for chatting with me on msn anymore. She doesn’t have time for me. A scratched gear in the back of my head tells me that I always knew she didn’t have time for me. I’m just being foolish for caring about a girl again. I should stop silly, stupid emotions from upsetting me clockworks. Write something happy. Write her a Dear John letter. Laugh your ugly chuckle as you spill loathing for her lies onto electric paper with a poisoned tipped keyboard.

Tyler pops up on my msn and invites me to go to Wrapped in Grey, I’m feeling malevolent and cancerous and he’s happy friendship.

I understand the depressing bits, go enjoy your evening and cheer yourself up. My thoughts are with you my friend, I'll see you again.

Bloody happy Tyler, ruined my perfectly grumpy day. I shaved and fled my computer and house.

I strolled through the park by our place, smelled some wild flowers and smiled at children in the playground. Office Depot printed Bevan’s book for me. 85 pages written with skills I can only mimic for maybe an hour. It’s good, not cryptic, delightful characterization, could use some tits, Ninja and explosions though. I look forward to seeing how it ends.

I retired like a British Noble in the heat of a Bombay sun to the local to sip Passion fruit lemonade over ice. I smoked too much and now sound like Bogart wooing Bacall, and delighted in reading to the happy murmur of grandparents over photo’s of their children’s children. I worried about nothing, I have no schoolwork, no household problems, I adore my friends in all their incarnations… except happy Tyler, I was enjoying my grump. He made my lower lip tremble in the warmth of his friendship, the bastard. There was not a care in the world nagging me. I sat in the sun wearing my favourite shirt jotting sad blue ink notes to Bevan in the margins of the manuscript. My feet weren’t even bothering me.

I finished reading this book: The Arcanum by Thomas Wheeler

A fun little jaunt into that silly world where real people are fictionalized. A Scottish Explored found the book of Enoch. Konstantin Duvall a spy and mage meets with Czar Nicolas, Rasputin in tow, King George V, and Kasier Wilhem II. Duvall brings a member of the Arcanum with him to act as secretary for the meeting to discuss what is to be done with the book. Who is this man? Why it’s Arthur Conan Doyle of course. Time passes and Duvall is killed fleeing from his secret lair in the Royal British Museum, because that’s where all the best lairs in England are to be found. Sir Arthur now suffering from writers block since his son Kingsly was killed on the Somme receives word from a backbencher in His Majesties government named Churchill that Duvall is dead, so off to New York goes the Detective, because as we all know Doyle possesses all the powers of his greatest literary creation. Why New York you ask? Well that's where the other members of the famed Arcanum are to be found. I mean seriously if you’re going to create a super team of occult hunters to aid Sherlock Holms… I mean Doyle who else but H.P. Lovecraft, Harry Houdini and Marie Laveau will do. Adventure and hilarity ensue. Crowley even rears his beastly head to aid the hero’s in time of need and reading about Houdini breaking Lovecraft out of Bellvue hospital for the criminally insane by walking the two of them across a telephone wire while a gorilla sized guard chops away with a fire axe is just silly enough for me to forgive the predictable plot. Still the Lost Angles in New York was only worth a chuckle at best.

The books you read need not be high literature and you need not be pretensions about them. Books are not just about passing information on, they can also be about escaping for a time the dreary of your life. The children on the Bookshelf off the BBO need to be bitch slapped into remembering that I fear. Elitist snobbery about your literature doesn’t make you cool it makes you the chump in the corner no one talks to.

I wasted an entire day doing nothing but reading for the sake of reading.
Please don’t cry Navi.

Posted by Silenzio at 11:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Sorry I've not been posting. I've been sick of late and depressed.

I will not have my depresion spill out here. I'll come back later when I'm happier.

Posted by Silenzio at 4:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

This entery is more a test of the functions that I can do with Movabletype then anything else. The fact that I used the begining of a short story I never finished is irrelivent and not a challenge to myself to finish it... honest.

Download file

Harsh critical comments about my writing will be met with unmanly tears and hand ringing appologies.

If someone tries downloading the file and it dosn't work, please let me know, thank you.

Posted by Silenzio at 3:42 AM | Permalink

What a relaxing weekend I’ve had. Oh sure it didn’t start of as great as I hoped, fucking movie… moving on. I woke up late for Nobilus, Tim had to phone me. I felt so bad. I raced my flabby ass down to the game chain-smoking the whole way, only to arrive to a pleasant Tim smile and an assurance that he wasn’t mad. Most people dislike Surrey because of its name or reputation. NW and Van are dirtier and have crime rates just as high. The Newton Bus Exchange is shaded by trees and has benches that stand at the perfect height for me to sit on. In the past I’ve sat there with a mocha just to people watch. I digress, after receiving two minutes of information and instructions our good Hollycock God unleashed me on the game already in progress.

I have been type cast as the guy who plays the bartender in larp games. People have fond memories of these times though, so I guess I do something right with the characters. I blathered nonsense for four hours and then smiled at the feeling of satisfaction for a job well done. I’ve missed the feeling of a good larp game.

Tim was even kind enough to give me plenty of leway to make stuff up off the top of my head. My bar has a lost and found where just about everything has been left behind by someone at some time. We even managed to find the kitchen in it so I could serve them stuff in deep fryer batter like an entire unpeeled onion… yum tasty. The stage may or may not be a death trap. People may have been buying drinks with their souls and if you pay me enough money I’ll give you Tim’s phone number so you can call nut jobs that think lizard people are taking over the world. During the course of the game I even managed to say something witty enough to have Timothy whisper that he wanted to have my babies, I can’t remember what, but if I was gay I’m sure I’d do my level best to satisfy Tim’s needs, but you know… still not gay, my mannerism aside

After the game it was sushi at some place I’ve forgotten the name of. What a wonderful experiance it is. So cheap, yet well proportioned. Which is how I like my woman when I’m not on the celibacy habit again. Three hours latter and a beer I jogged into Chaos to put in a presence and find out the Battle Tech book I want isn’t out yet. Curse you FanPro, Curse you to Tarterus… or as I like to say to the Wicker People Tarter Sauce. I’m stunned they have not sacrificed me to some pagan god yet.

The evening was toped off by one of those moments where you look up to realize its 2am and you’re in a sweaty room with four other tipsy men, all semi-naked watching The Phantom of the Opera while discussing with animated language the merits of American musical theatre. I then went to crash in Neal’s bed.

I miss living in a flat where I can open my window without worry of critters crawling in and eating my eyes for the sweet, sweet nectar within them. I miss the feel of crisp, cool night air on my face while I dream to the soundtrack of a city at night. We must move soon. I must get a room on an upper floor.

Morning began with a startle brought on by Derek’s voice. Then it was off to shoe horning Tim, Ryan, and Tyler into the back seat of Derek’s car. My knees thank all those people at anytime who have let me occupy the front seat. Sunday Tea is an institution I rarely get to partake in, it is always a treat when I can. Jenn and Steve’s new place is a cosy home decorated in love and maintained in friendship. I will gladly journey there again when I can.

Many sips of delicious coffee later Derek dropped Lock, Stock and Barrel off at the Ghetto then kindly drove me to Triple play where I added to my collection of Comic books. Then it was farewell to him. I wandered my way back home park bench by park bench. Ice cream from DQ, and coffee and a book at the local. Showered, then out the door to find I’d forgotten the disk with Beven’s book on it at home. Returned home to drink Iced tea on the back lawn over comic books and ciggerettes till Jason showed up and joined me with his lap top. We read till the sun went down.

I shall sleep now, then awake to 40 hours of work.
Wednesday coffee will be at the Tim Horton’s at 6th and 6th NW.
If you wish to add me to your msn its carlseltz@hotmail.com

Posted by Silenzio at 12:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

As many of my friends know and point out I can be excruciatingly harsh on movies, as well as exacting in my criticism of them. I don’t do this because I hate movies, rather the opposite. I love movies and the movie going experience, the wait in line, the conversations leading up to the theatre darkening. I enjoy watching previews and panning them or nudging a friend and whispering my desire to see that film next. So it’s out of love that I rip them apart and spit bile and venom on them… honest. Hey no rolling your eyes at me Derek.

The Fantastic Four film was okay, and only just okay. It was well cast except for Victor Von doom I assume the person playing the character was chosen for his prowess on the casting couch then anything else. Jessica Rabbit or whatever the fuzzy hell her name is look lickable in her skin tight super suit, but damn the little dominatrix business suit was better. Can she act? Who cares? Horatio Hornblower pulled off a watchable Reed as well. I would like to see him cast in something where he’s allowed to act. Ben Grimm’s rock suit looked… umm… fantastic, and how ever you spell his name turned in the best performance of them all. Even if the bar scene with the touching made me go WTF?

Stan Lee actually had a scene this time around and he’s aged to the point where the word prune is mandatory in describing him. Aaron Harrison had a few shots as a bystander. He looked like he was about to say ‘Hee yuck’ or ‘Gorsh’ in every shot.

The special effects did what they were supposed to do, even if too over used in the big battle.

The director needs to be hunted down and tasered in the ball sack till he pukes blood. He would not know how to shoot a scene with tension in it if I duct taped a shot gun to his head wielded by an epileptic crack whore on a suger high. This movie had no umfff. None, zip, zilch… I could compare heart beats with a corpse to the pulse of this movie and declare the corpse the victor in the 500 yard sprint.

Speaking of Victor…* sputter, sputter, spew of bile* Doctor Doom does not wear armour designed by Paris fashion house fags, babble quips and GQ pose for the cameras. He is Pragmatic conviction incarnate, he is the greatest villain to exist in the comic book worlds… and… and… ahhhhhhh…. Bill hates, hates what they did with him in this movie.

One moment I need to take a deep calming breath.

Anyways, save some money and rent this film. Also kill the director. I don’t ask for much.

I’m going for a smoke to finish calming my self.

Posted by Silenzio at 1:34 AM | Permalink

Words, words, words

Words represent ideas, emotions, concepts, beliefs, you get the idea I’m sure. Ultimately because of what they can represent they are the only things in the universe that I love unabashedly.

I don’t normally tell people that I am Dyslexic and thanks to my broken mind was forced to repeat grade three. I also had to go to a supplemental education class. The teacher there explained very kindly that there was no cure for my condition but there was a solution. A hard lesson for a child to accept that life isn’t fair, and that adversity will always taint it. The solution I was told was to read, read anything, anywhere, anytime, it didn’t matter what, it only mattered that I did it. She gave me a book, one of those choose your own adventure. I cherished her for giving me that book. Regretfully my memory is not as good as I wish it was and I’ve forgotten her name. Now you know where my love of reading comes from, also my love of RPG’s. You’re still going to see my b’s and p’s flip, my I’s and e’s switch and my lack of ability to remember numbers for longer then a nano-second.

Its not a very witty post is it? I figured it I tried for being funny all the time, or worse clever all I’d end up doing is failing to do anything, frustrate myself and quit the writing again. This is the moment where I shrug my shoulders.

Tomorrow after work Jeff and I are off to go see the Fantastic Four movie. I know I’ll loath it, it can’t be helped The FF were the first comic that I purchased. I’ve been a fan so long the little parts of my memory that works correctly is jammed packed full of useless bits of trivia about them. No comic book adaptation has worked fully for me, not even Spider man and the latest Batman, although they were damn close. If you feel like joining us and listening to me sputter and curse afterwards, we will be off work at 8pm, call Jeff’s cell to meet up or just hang out at the Tim Horton’s around 8. You know we will walk in to buy hot boiled bean juice.

More then a few months back the Burning Scorpion tried his hands at writing a comic book about vampires. It was loosely based off a few characters played by he, friends, and I. He wrote out the first chapter and despite being well received by everyone he shelved it and moved on to other things. But he left behind a world that I was playing about in. My first story was a one shot deal that I couldn’t find a voice for, my second effort only got to ten of the twenty-two pages needed for a single issue and I promised myself I would write four issues… so since I made the promise and one of the things this blog is suppose to do is prompt me to write more I’m going to start posting bits of it up here.

This is your warning to delete the link to this page and run for the safety of Kurrs’ pretty writing a few electric doors over.

Run now.

Posted by Silenzio at 2:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Well it certainly didn’t take me long to run out of clever things to write.
I’ll dredge something up later after bashing my brains out on my Nobilus character sheet.

In the mean time I present to you some truly bad writing done by me. The others involved demonstrate how middle of the road I am.

http://thememorygarden.ca/memorygarden/

On second thought ignore this post and don’t look.
If you do look try to not laugh directly into my face.

Edit: I'm learning more and more, the link now works for taking you to the site. Damn soon I might actually be proficents, such a scary thought.

Posted by Silenzio at 2:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Worked sucked today. It took forever to end and the temperature was maddening. Working on an island has few benefits, the humidity just saps your strength. I think I’m flattening my feet and will need to buy new boots soon. No matter how I hold my hands money always manages to slip through the fingers.

Having returned to my base camp after romping my way through blog world followed by a cleansing wash of on-line comics I was puzzled to find a posse of mushroom police trampling the place. My meagre belongings were tossed about and the tent was swaying with their movements. You can’t help but desire that Yoshi should have eaten them all in a Godzilla fit by now. Alas no.

“Hello what’s all this?” Turned out to not be a good opening line. Two midget storm troopers wearing VPD-esque uniforms fresh from a bus incident had me kissing the grass with my hands zip tied behind me before I could say magic mush…

I met a Detective Sergeant Spears and Inspector Saward them. They were nice enough, diligent in their good cop, bad cop stand up comedy act. Seriously how do you not snicker at mushroom-headed people trying to interrogate you? That’s when things got bad. The constable was sure to get a fresh metal for finding Wario’s rifle in my sleeping bag.

The Inspector was looking for an Oscar when he said, “You’re nicked son.”

Shit, I really hate the Internet, and it knows it.

A year back just to see what would happen I made a story up to tell some of my co-workers. It went like this.

“At coffee last night my friends and I were comparing what we thought were the three greatest things in the universe. Most of the answers were arty like ‘Fresh flowers from a lover’ or ‘Baby laughter’ Some where historic like ‘The Printing Press’ or ‘The creation of the condom’ I would smile or roll my eyes. Then I was asked what my list was. I answered.

1 – Coffee, and for me that must be served with a cigarette.

2 – Comfortable seating. Which drew a laugh, but if you work on your feet for eight hours a day you will agree with me that sitting for a spell in a really comfortable seat is one of the greatest things to do.

And last.

3 – Woman randomly, spontaneously playfully spanking each other. This brought laughter and looks of doubt. I qualified. “You're walking to the bus stop one day or waiting in a line and it’s a gloomy, rainy day, when suddenly two woman start giving each other playful smacks on their rumps with that sexy squeal woman do that most men love so well. Tell me honestly that that would not perk up your day?” Sure enough none could deny that that would not boost their moral.

A few days latter I showed up at work looking glum and downtrodden. A few of my female co-workers noticed this and surprise, started playfully spanking each other to cheer me up. I smiled.

The next day I showed up at work looking glum and downtrodden.

My habit calls I’m going for a smoke.

Posted by Silenzio at 2:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Well thanks to Andrea and friends I finally lived up to a promise that I had made. Last Saturday I went to Sin City, and although I was grumpy about some aspects of it I did truly enjoy myself. Honest, cross my heart and all that I did have fun. So what were my impression I hear my phantom readers ask. Simply that it was something interesting to do and I would if circumstances were right do it again. Oh sure it might not have looked like I was having the best of times, but then I don’t always look like I’m enjoying myself anyway. Why taint the experience by participating in it? Besides what would I do? Dance? I could never force people to cringe in horror from watching my uncoordinated efforts at that. Hit on woman? They only cause emotional scars, make me cry and loathe myself. I’m better off sticking to my celibacy and loneliness. Converse? But of course, naturally, it’s my second favourite activity. I had some delightful chats with people I don’t normally get to see, and I thank them all.

The experience will stick to me for a while I think. The skytraining and stroll through the east end in costume was a giggle. No it wasn’t upsetting. The chance to see Aaron’s face light up and his jaw drop when he realized that it was actually me at one of his events was well worth the cover I didn’t it turns out have to pay. I don’t mention it much but I love listening to Electric music like they played there, and last there was this one lovely young girl there who chatted with me over a couple smokes about her fetishes. Intriguing and enlightening, I think I shall go again.

What will I ware?

Thank you to all who helped for putting up with my sour faces at the costuming. I know I can be pig headed and difficult about some things. I did like the Kitan (sp), and no that doesn’t mean I want to ware one again any time soon.

Posted by Silenzio at 12:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Where was I?

Oh right. Having backed away from the scene below the knoll and deciding to spend some quality time elsewhere I strolled off, remebering to walk causaly. Indifferent realities of destinations flashed my mind and since axe murder was not on the topic menu today (It never is unfortunitly) I decided to see if I had any neighbours out here on the edge. After running screaming from the suburban fringe kids who tried to eat me and not in a good way, after being asked once too often how powerful my ram was by one too many sun glass clad men in stained over coats hanging around the porn sites and Don’t even ask me to describe what electric squish I trod in when the pop ups took me to the farming areas, I settled down for a quiet read of my favourite blogs. I may have to wash my brain with bleach and sell my eyes on eBay to recover.

Reading people’s blogs is the new voyeurism of choice for me. It used to be people watching over coffee and newspapers, but this is so much more intimate, so much more warm fuzzies and crisp electric zaps of hugs. It’s a peek in an ear to see peoples gears spinning, a glance down their throats to gaze upon an exposed soul, a quick ear to their chests to hear the pitter pat of angst hearts… ah so much bliss.

But it is now also an exercise in comparison, you know us insecure men always measuring. Now I read a blog and wonder ‘How boring is my life?’, 'Do I honestly have anything to write that would be of interest to anyone?’

Then the dark chuckle rises up my throat and I remember I can always lie.

Like most nerds and geeks (I refuse to capitalizes those words) my life plays out more on the stage in my head and with words then it does with actions.

I’m going to down load Bevin’s book then light a cigarette.
Mmmm… yummy cancer.

Posted by Silenzio at 12:02 AM | Permalink

Having not much else to do at this time of night beyond the huge list of things I keep promising myself I would do, but never will, I decided to set up base camp here at the edge of the net, besides kicking tumble weeds made out of spent banner ads for penis enlargements and crappy web comics has proven to be a tiny bit fun. I may set up some goal posts.

On a grassy knoll I pitched my tent tongue in cheek style and sat back to warm my hands on the flame wars over at the BB.Occult. Not a bad site for some people watching. A quick glance to the left scrolled a digital parade ground into view. There was a commotion as little pixel people were running screaming about a motorcade. Mario had just taken a rifle bullet to the head, Princess Peach was wailing tears and getting blood all over her dress and hands. Luigi was desperate to drag her to safety while copping a feel. A snicker to my right drew my attention. Wario was dry humping the ground while fondling a smoking rifle and King Koopa was high-tailing it to a waiting limo. I thought it best not to ask questions.

I suppose one of the things that people do with blogs is let their readers, phantom or otherwise know things about themselves. I never had a blog for the longest time because I honestly could not think of anything that I wanted to say to anyone through this medium. Even at the insistence of a little purple haired girl I would not bow and maintained my silence. Even when my friend the Burning Scorpion said he would set up a blog for me in hopes that it would prompt me to write more I remained silent.

I’m still not sure just why I jumped on this electric bandwagon.

Most of my friends are aware that I tend to not talk a lot in some situations and will merely sit quietly enjoying their voices and thoughts, but eventually all turtles come out of their shells.

More then a few months back I found myself in Chapters just pocking about not really looking to buy when I discovered in my delighted wanderings that I was in front of the eastern religion section. Not sure why as much as it was an area of the store I don’t normally go to and on that day I thought I would just pop over to see what there was to see.

I found a book that I would not have bought any other day, and only did so because of the head space I was in. I was having this out of body day, hell the whole weekend was like that. I just wandered around like I was in the flow of the universe for a change instead of acting like a rock, which I normally do and letting the universe flow around me.

Anyways. I’d spent the weekend avoiding everyone and going where the universe was willing me. Sort of exploring and feeling stage left of myself when, as I said I spotted this book, a thin little soft cover of a thing with a toilet on it and the title Hardcore Zen.

So I laugh at the images in my head and pick it up. Zing. I get this shock. I think odd, I’ve never cared for religion before and Buddhism is just so not me. I’m like science guy not incense and meditation. And although a group of my friends are Wiccan, or as I like to say Wicker People just to see what they do and I have asked if it would be alright for me observe a coven meeting and they said sure. I didn’t think it meant I was looking for a new path. I was just being curious and doing what I usually do asking questions and looking for truth.

Guess what? That’s what Zen is about. Question everything and find Truth.

Now that I’ve said this people may well stop answering my questions, or not. I have a habit of being wrong without telling anyone.

I’m off for a cigarette.

Posted by Silenzio at 12:43 AM | Permalink

So there I was minding my own business when a friend of mine buys me a computer for Christmas and I’m instantly hooked. These things are the best damn typewriters in the universe, and yes that’s what I primarily use my computer for. I dislike computer games with a passion bordering on the institutionally insane. So off I go on my merry way when one day in a fit of silliness I buy a better computer, one that has a modem card and the curtains part and whoosh I’m catapulted into the middle of the Internet.

Well damn.

That was years ago and after the initial shock of stranding myself in the middle of the information super highway with pimply children screaming at me to move my old fart ass out of the way so they could get to their porn and forums quicker I wised up and set my activities to lurker mode and shoulder my self into a gentle walk. Its, as I said been years ago and a few weeks back I found the edge of the Internet.

Honest. I was walking along and the ash fault ran out, then the gravel road turned into a cart track and then grassy field. The edge of the internet, I found some stray porn lying about and a squiggle of code that might be the Pong blip sound.

I feel ripped off.

I’m going for a cigarette.

Posted by Silenzio at 3:04 AM | Permalink