Samples of what I’ve been reading on my lovely Blogsphere are sort of all over the place. Star Wars, book reviews, resolutions, militia groups, confessions, and of course the reviews of ancient media from bygone eras. We can’t have enough reviews of Roadhouse. I love to read other blogs. Having staggered through writer’s workshops, creative writing classes, and editorial roles throughout my writing career, the honesty and rawness of blogs still hit me like a fiery pixel-missile from an F14 in the classic flight simulator Afterburner. Keep them coming.
- Winter has finally arrived here in Minnesota. The lucid cold is here. It’s the type of weather with a bite to it. Every organism and structure has this searing clarity to it when the temperature drops below zero. It’s almost like the world has had all the metaphor and imagery scrubbed away by the frost and frigid air. The only thing escaping this searing lens is the steam rising upwards from every man made structure, like parts of our souls were being sucked away into some demigods grand scheme.
- We have a mouse living in our kitchen. I’m not really wild about killing animals because they’re inconvenient, but with the amount of feces produced by the little critter potentially causing some unwanted biological harm on my twin baby boys, I’ve decided to purge my home of the vermin. How does such a small creature defecate so much? It was funny when I noticed it peaking its head out from under the oven. I felt violated by nature. I felt like the wild lands were crawling through my windows like some apocalyptic force had just been released.
- I’ve been playing Super Smash Brothers with my family a little bit. The game has all your classic Nintendo characters beating each other to a pulp with a myriad collection of weaponry. Here are some samples of what is said during these games: I want the hammer. I need the hammer. GIVE ME THE HAMMER SO I CAN SMASH YOU INTO THE SKY. He’s got a baseball bat. Run. For the love of god, run! I smashed you. I smashed you good. Did anyone see that? What just hit me? How did you kill me? Did Wario just eat my head? I need that pizza. I need that pizza for life.
- Without a doubt, the next generation of children will bleed technological blood more than any other. The sheer volume of tungsten flowing through our veins makes me think of that scene in the Matrix with all those mechanical pods locked into people like strips of Jello. Companies have to slow down their rate of production and advancement of projects so they don’t outpace human understanding. I’m being led by an iPhone on a stick into the future. You have the whole world in your hand. Not being connected will be isolating, like a lone bee returning to the skeleton of a dead hive.
- When you lose someone special, the smallest items can trap you in that cave of sadness. I feel like that haunted city in Spirited Away. It only takes a few memories to ignite the buildings in ghoul-lantern light, and the shadows to rise out of the cobblestones. I lost my dog Millie about seven months ago. I was doing laundry, and found one of her dried up old rawhide chews sticking out from beneath the furnace. It was like seeing an old photo hidden away in a box in the attic. I didn’t do anything to it. It might not even be hers. My neighbors are watching a dog and they might be using the same product. Nevertheless, at some point my dog chewed that bone or one like it, which made it hers in my memory. That’s all that matters.