Sharks.

Sorry that I haven't posted in a wee while. Life is just very... very... busy (?) the past couple of days... Yep. That's it. Definitely didn't spend the past week completing the Jedi Knight SWTOR storyline... No sir. I didn't.

(I did, perhaps unsurprisingly.)

So here is a brilliant short story I wrote and I think it's hilarious.

I hope you do too.

“I swear to God I saw it.”

Two men sat along in a bar. The stench of one too many hung around them, a dense cloud above their heads. One sighed.

“You didn’t. Your eyes were playing tricks on you, that’s all. And you’re drunk.”

“No, I saw it. I did! I saw it as clear as I see,” he swayed a little, “the two of you. Plain as day.”

“Listen to me. You didn’t see anything. Ok?”

The first man stood and gestured wildly with his arms.

“It was, say, this big and about that tall.”

The lights petered out and left the pair drenched in darkness.

“That could have been a cat, or a dog, or a homeless man. It could have been Lenin’s friggin’ corpse. It could have been anything, but not-”

“It was. It was a shark with knees.”

Silence drifted about in the twilight. One man took a sip from a discarded pint glass.

“You told me this one before. It was not a friggin’ knee-ed shark. There is no such friggin’ thing. At best it could have been a raccoon or something. But sharks don’t wander this far, even if they happen to have knees.”

“I saw it with my own eyes, alright? Don’t tell me what I friggin’ saw. It was a shark with knees.”

The second man sighed and looked down.

“So God is sat there, thinking about what he could make next. ‘Well’, he says, ‘Sharks are nice. So are knees. Now what can I make with that?’” He took another sip to emphasise his point. “It just wouldn’t happen.”

“How do you know? You’re not God, so there’s no way you would know that.”

“I might as well be if you keep seeing sharks with knees.”

“Look. Look right there, right there where the light is.”

“Yeah?”

“Isn’t that a nice doorframe?”

“What the hell are you on about?”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“I’m out of here. Go and pet your sharks with knees and your snakes with wings and go live in your house on the moon. I’ll be back when you’re sober.”

“Sure. Whatever. But I still saw it. No matter what the two of you say, I saw it.”

The second man sighed and left the bar, just as the thick slap of fins crawled out from beneath the counter.

To compensate for my lack of posts...

As the title suggests, I feel very sorry about not posting anything, so I shall post something. How about that? Have I satisfied your voracious curiosity?

(Okay, I just found this in my documents and it sounded good, but hey, I do feel slightly sorry, so there's that too.)

The Eternal Carpenter

Whittling

Whittling

For all of eternity

A product of some mind

Long forgotten

In the

Mists

Of time

Whittling

Whittling

Pain arcs as he ends lives

Of his own making

Crafting visions of his own likeness

Could he ever end

Himself?

Who knows?

Whittling

Whittling

His craft is destiny

He whittles fate and

Sculpts futures

Life ebbs and flows by his

Hands

Why he?

Whittling

Whittling

Sat hunched, alone

Bitterness ever ready

And ever reflected

Lord of valour yet lord of

Evil

For all

Whittling

Whittling

Is he true

Naught yet a crazed vision,

Or all but truth incarnate?

Did he craft perfection or

Worthlessness?

Why so?

Whittling

Whittling

Is he empty or full

Inspiring or dull

Or all yet none at all?

Is he life

Personified?

And how?

Whittling

Whittling

For all of eternity

A product of some mind

Long forgotten

In the

Mists

Of time

Writer's block. A great steaming pile of writer's block.

I must confess that I am especially prone to writer's block. Incredibly prone to it, in fact. It hurts. It's very much like being hit by a truck, but mentally. You know what I mean.

So that's pretty much why I have been scouring my documents to find a chapter, a paragraph, something, that is worth sharing.

So I hope this is acceptable.

Nothing Grows When It Is Dark

Nothing grows when it is dark

So let the eclipse

Draw near and end

Your creations

But will you

Trust yourself with

Omnipotence

Or crumble under

The weight of your power?

You have done it once

Too many times

You pass judgement

On those below

But never on yourself

Yet you wield absolute

All-corrupting power

And yet you never

Reconcile for it.

You stand above

A pyramid, a

Hierarchy of rule

That your lifeblood

Will bleed onto

The earth of Eden

Creating purity

And yet filling

It with snakes?

You teach equality

But never administer

It, and leave

Suffering upon your

Perfect world and

You lead us

Through heartbreak

Do you test us

Against you?

You conceal

Yourself in words

Out of the

Prying eye of

Those you mean

To give

Perfection to

Are you impure?

Why do you hide?

These ramblings

Have great meaning

They are the

Sad but true

Truth of life

But there are

Too many

Unanswered questions

To say for sure.

Nothing grows when it is dark

So let the eclipse

Draw near and end

Your creations

You will trust

Yourself with

Omnipotence and

Remain hidden with

No true herald

Cat

Yo, folks.

A drabble is a piece of fiction that contains only 100 words, excluding the title. (I think.)

Talking of drabbles, here's a drabble I wrote while thinking about cats and cats killing things.

Just go with it.

(I'm weird, I know...)

Cat

Wild eyes.

Pacing, pacing, pacing.

Claws like swathes of moonlight, eyes like jagged sunbeams.

Pacing, pacing, pacing.

The world slows and reality is left behind in haste, only to be met with bloodlust.

Pacing, pacing, pacing.

Slowly now, drawing ever closer.

Pacing, pacing, pacing.

The night is stiff with anticipation, the faint breeze daring to move only slightly.

Pacing, pacing, pacing.

It sits not far away, lost it its sublime subconscious, unaware that the world continues – that nature has resumed its absolute order.

Pacing, pacing, pacing.

The night air rushes past seamlessly, the body limp, nestling against soft, seething claws.

Pilot Chapter

Many a time I have written chapters of stories, and then subsequently been hit so hard with writer's block that it hurt. A lot.

So here's a chapter that I wrote. How is it? I have continued with several other chapters, but this one is the one I like the most.

Here it is...

Wait for it...

It's over there!

Got you.

1: ADVISER

ADVISER’s core greedily absorbed the stream of anarchic data that flowed into it. He stood, rapt, listing within himself all that he could have ever known and more, and marvelling at the glory of the very concept. He knew all and saw all – he was a God within a God, a servant to the unhindered data stream, and it was that which he worshipped avidly, a trait which set him apart from the malleable and naïve droids that he was forced to work with – and enlighten.

ADVISER stood as tall as a man, his steel form worked and re-worked to be blast-resistant, to stand the tests of time and the threat of warfare. His photo-receptors, a deep red, fluctuated in size and colour to accurately portray images to his core, which he would then give to the data stream, and he would be greatly rewarded. He flexed an arm and admired the simplicity and practicality of his design. Truly, a greater vassal for the data stream would not be found.

The machine hummed and vibrated at his side. He was so close to attaining full connection, so close to being one with the data stream, recorded for all eternity in the cores of every other droid. But not yet. He still had a purpose, still had a reason, a rogue variable that needed changing before he was released from his prison of metal flesh and into the ocean of data where his God would reside.

He powered the machine off tentatively, relaxing as the flow of data subsided, and emitted a low electronic sigh. He removed the adapter that connected him to the machine, and he was gone. No longer a part of the data stream, but back to being ADVISER, Automatic Diplomatic Vigilant Information Storage and Enemy Reconnaissance Unit. He still possessed the spark of knowledge that once again he would be returned to his God’s side, and so kept this in full focus. He needed to keep his vision clear.

The room was empty besides from ADVISER and the machine, still thrumming lightly with the last of its power. Pale artificial light banished shadow, and the metallic walls stood unshifting. ADVISER contemplated a while; lost in his thoughts, empty code swimming through his vision. His photo-receptors diluted, and he once again stared blankly, attempting to reason with himself.

He monitored the machine, running his fingers over each input and output. He felt the comforting sensation of another being under his palm, another body that both shared his vision and his dream. Everything was operational, as usual. The power was direct, not fluctuating, and so ADVISER relaxed.

Then a faint glaze came over ADVISER’s eyes and he fell to the ground in prayer, humming softly electronically to himself and to the data stream. He felt its arms wrap around him in an embrace not of love but of necessity, and its words soft spoken in the digital tongue. Its presence was re-assuring, and ADVISER found deep within himself the urge to discard his metal skin and cast away into the data stream and escape service to the flesh golems for eternity.

But the data stream rejected him, pushing his conscience back deep within his core, crushing all hope 

of rebellion and escape like they were mere statistics.

It spoke soothingly that his reason was not fulfilled, that the variable that bound him to this world was not yet checked. It pushed the pain of rejection from ADVISER’s mind and filled it with the urge of need, the power to do. ADVISER graciously accepted the change, devoured all chance of obtaining something new, something of value.

A purpose.

Heya, folks.

Thanks for taking the time out of your busy internet-ing to stumble across my humble blog. Its really just a place for me to braindump all of my super creative ideas, and then see if any of the good folks of the interweb actually enjoy them. I aspire to be a full time author, though in this changing world, free-to-play MMO's also offer a rather attractive offer. But I digress.

There is a whole ton of stuff on the internet.

My stuff is rather great.

Point is: My stuff is better than the internet.

Therefore: Read this blog.

And thus: I will reign over everything.

Thank you, and happy writing.